#doc is telling kid 'you have to be quiet' and 'it's not that bad' instead of ANYTHING ACTUALLY HELPFUL

[galwaygremlin]

so adult er/trauma doctors are ALL bad with kids, that wasn't just my dad???

[hunted-moth]

Just Like Him Chapter One: I Met Two Old Guys In The Woods

Word-count // 6k

Summary // When Y/n encounters two men in the woods who offer her a place to stay she’s skeptical but goes anyway. And there she meets new people who help her in all kinds of ways

Warning // Language, talks of death and hunting, 

Special Thanks to @eugeneroehoe and my friend for editing/proofreading this for me, it would be a disaster if they didn't lol

OTHER STUFF// Sorry for the weird formatting, i write in google docs and transfer over to Tumblr, and it's so fucky lol. I know there are other campers but for my sake, im just gonna focus on the main group. 

Also, fun fact my GF's name was Sophia but we don't call her that so it was weird typing ‘Sophia’ lol

A/N // the first official chapter woo hoo. Unpopular opinion? I really like Lori and I feel bad for her sometimes. Yes she's wrong sometimes yeah but that doesn't matter to me, we support women's rights and wrongs here. 

***: Major time Skip/scene change

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

              “Well well well, what do we have here baby brother,” The old guy said with the meanest grin on his face. Your grip tightened on the bow as he spoke, but you didn't take your eyes off the other man with the crossbow and the squirrels on his rope. They had dirt and grime all over their faces and slightly tattered clothes.

“Just a kid.” The younger guy lowered his crossbow and straightened his posture. The older man noticed your bag on the ground and yanked it off the forest floor. 

“What do we have here?” The old man began to riffle through your stuff. 

“HEY! That's mine!” you barked at him lowering your bow. He just ignored you and continued looking through your bag. 

"Hmp, all that's in here are picture books, clothes, 'n a can of bug spray." He dumped the bag out on the ground and picked up the bug spray. "'Least this is useful." He went to turn and walk away, but you rushed him and pulled on his shirt.

“Hey, it’s mine! Give it back, asshole!” You grunted as the old guy pushed you away and you fell on your ass. 

You rushed forward to continue to fight back, but the younger man held you back by the collar of your shirt. 

“What's your guys' problem?!” You thrashed and fought against his grip, instead, he only tightened his grip

“Will ya jus’ quit it, kid!” The old guy turned around and crouched down to your height, in a way that was patronizing. 

“Well, aren't ya a feisty one, kid?” He attempted to poke your forehead but you slapped his hand away. 

“don't touch me!” You yelled as the younger one yanked on your collar to shut you up. 

“Quit yelling! Yer gonna attract the Geeks!” The younger one yelled.

You stopped a moment to think about what he said and gave him a weird look.

“You call ‘em geeks? That's kinda dumb.” The young guy rolled his eyes while the older one started to ask a question but was cut off by the sound of a snarl nearby. 

The younger guy let go of you to quickly shoot a bolt through the rotter's head with precision.

“That's why yer quiet,” he spat at the ground, lowering the crossbow.

“I was, but it's kinda hard when two old men in the woods take my crap.” You side-eye the old guy. He raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother, silently telling him to give your stuff back. 

“Naw, the kid tried to attack us when she first laid eyes on us,” The Old guy dismissed. “Sides’, she should thank us fer that Geek.” You wanted to kick him in the shin.

The younger guy huffed and rolled his eyes. “She's just a kid, give ‘er the can of bug spray, and let’s go.” The old guy stared at the other, then dropped the can at your feet with a smug look.

You snatched it up and stuffed it in your bag, giving him the stink eye like your life depended on it. It was silent momentarily before you moved to pick up your bow. You were about to head on your way before the young guy grabbed your shoulder.

“Hey, where are yer parents? Why’re ya alone out here?” Your shoulder went stiff, you knew where they were and why you were alone.

“They’re dead, and my brother is lost and probably long gone, so it jus’ me, I guess.” You looked at the ground. The two men were looking at you. The younger one had a semi-sympathetic look on his face, while the older one just looked irritated.

The younger guy turns you around so you face him. “You know how to hunt? Or are you just swingin’ that bow around?” you nod your head "Follow us." You give him a strange look.

"Where?" You asked.

He rolled his eyes at the question."We got a camp down by a quarry, you can come or not, don' matter ta me," the younger guy said. You guessed he was trying to be nice, but his face didn't show it. It looked like you pestered the answer out of him.

They began to walk away not waiting for an answer from you. You weighed the thought of following them to their camp. You thought of Jason, thinking about what he’d say if he were you.

“They just tried to take your shit and now they want you to follow ‘em? Hell no, they probably want to kill you and take it” imaginary Jason shouted in your ear, his argument was reasonable in your mind. But your ‘mother’ had her own argument.

“He did stick up for you, maybe he’s being kind. You are alone out out here bear, anyone with a heart would invite you to their shelter. They could have food and even more people to look after you and keep you safe” Her words were hopeful whereas Jason was cynical. 

Your mom's words tried to help you use your heart but Jason fought that you should use your head.

You looked at the two men as they walked away, their bodies getting smaller and smaller by the second.

‘Could just go and check the place out, if it's legit I could stay but if it gets dodgy I’ll leave’ You thought it was a perfect middle ground for both arguments. 

You picked up all of your stuff and began to jog towards them. You huffed and puffed when you caught up to them making the older one scoff when he noticed you and walked faster to get away from you. 

                                    ~~~The Quarry Day One~~~

          Your trek to the supposed quarry was tense. You almost feel the irritation radiate from the Old guy. You and the young guy just kept quiet, the only words he'd say to you was ‘keep up’ if you fell behind a bit. 

But the old guy just had to open his mouth.

“Why are we even bringing another mouth ta feed anyway!” you rolled your eyes, but the comment made it seem like there were other people. Which was a good sign.

“Can it even do anything useful” You were pretty sure you were the ‘it’ in this scenario.

“I can hunt, and other stuff,” you said in a small but annoyed tone which pissed him off as he turned around and yelled at you.

“WAS I TALKIN’ TO YOU KID” he yelled, you stepped back a bit when he got in your face. 

“Man shut up and keep walking, ‘fore Shane blows up on us” He pushed the old guy forward. But he never shut his mouth, he just went on and on about how much of a burden you'd be if you stayed. He kinda reminded you of your brother when he was pissed at you.

As you walked you noticed that you started distancing yourself from the old guy. You were at first in the middle of them but towards the end of your trek back, you found yourself on the other side of the younger guy.

After about an hour of walking, you heard voices other than the old guy. You could hear soft murmurs of people talking as you all got closer. The two men got in front of you and moved the brush aside. The three of you walk through the camp towards a man.

“Yo Shane” the young guy called out, and the man with puffy hair turned his head, his eyebrows crinkled in confusion when his eyes landed on you. 

“What’s with tha kid?” He asked the old guy with a look of confusion.

“Some brat we picked up” The Old guy just spat at the ground, and the puffy-haired guy just rolled his eyes. He directed his attention to you, kneeling a bit lower.

“Hi, Im Deputy Shane Walsh, what's your name?” he had a smile on his face, one that looked fake but still comforting.

“Umm, Y/n, Y/n Myers” you looked down out of embarrassment.

“Ok Y/n,” he started “now mind tellin’ me why you're alone in the woods?” he tilted his head towards the woods.

“I- I got separated from my brother and momma” you lied, you knew where your mom was, dead somewhere probably eating some poor dude's face. But you guess the part about your brother was true.

“Well, that's not good, when did you lose them?” he tilted his head to the side now, by now the other guys were long gone so it was just you and the puffy-haired guy.

“A couple of weeks ago, I just kept movin’ to avoid the eaters” You fidgeted with your bow like a child who was caught stealing something.

He had a sad look on his face “Well that's not good, how about you stay here till we find your family huh? Where do you think they might've gone?” he got up and put his hands on his hips as he looked around for someone. 

“Im not sure, maybe Atlanta? Momma talked about goin’ there” You fiddled with your bow some more, rubbing your hands over the handles, you weren't looking at his face too shy to even think about it. 

You heard a ‘hmm’ coming from his mouth, you looked up to see he was looking around the camp till his eyes finally found what he was searching for.

“AYE LORI!” He shouted “Come ‘ere for a minute” A woman in her mid to late 30s came strolling over, she had long brown hair and a confused look on her face. When you look behind her you see a little boy, around your age, trudging along with the woman.

“Yeah, Shane?” Shane–you guess– put a hand on your shoulder “This is Y/n, her family’s missing, ya think you can keep an eye on ‘er?” The woman looked at you and smiled.

“Hi Y/n, Im Lori” she introduced herself with a kind smile. The boy behind her gave a small wave. 

“And this here is my son Carl” She pushed the boy from out behind her and continued her conversation with Shane 

“Sure Shane, you gonna help look for her family?” you looked him in the eyes before he directed his attention to Lori, he put an arm around her and led her away from you and the boy.

“I don't think her family’s alive” he whispered, but you heard him, “said she got separated from her mom and brother a few weeks back” he scratched his head, “said her momma wanted to go to Atlanta”.

Lori got a sad look on her face from that information, she turned to look back at you and you looked away.

Lori nodded her head and turned towards you again “Are you hungry Hun?” she asked in her sweetest voice, you just nodded your head, and she put her arm around you and the boys' back and started to walk away. 

You walked over to a campfire that someone was trying to start. He was young had no hair and wore a cap backwards. 

“Any luck there T-dog?” Lori asked him, he just shook his head with a dejected sigh.

“I should probably know this by now huh?” he retorted. You walked up to the fire pit, “you could probably do this” you suggested. 

You grabbed a skinny piece of wood and a fatter one. Then you grabbed some dry grass and placed it on the wood. Then taking the stick you began to rub the stick on the grass rapidly till you saw smoke. You blew on the fire to keep it alive then placed it on the fire pit. 

“That should do it, it’ll take a few minutes though” You shrugged as you got up. The T-Dog guy just looks at you in shock.

“Danm kid, been tryin’ to get a fire goin’ for a minute and here you come doin’ it like it nothin’” He smiled at you.

“How’d you know to do that?” A small voice spoke up, it was the boy from earlier, you shrugged, 

“My brother thought me” You shrugged as Lori smiled.

“Well, he's a good teacher then” She walked to a trailer and walked out with two cans of food. 

“Okay, we have canned carrots and canned corn, who wants what?” The boy shot his hand up.

“Can I have the corn?” He asked, and she nodded her head so you got the carrots. She waited till the fire got big before she started to heat them up. 

“So Y/n,” she got up and took yours off the grill, “I was thinking, after you finish eating, how would you like to get washed up? Get all that dirt off ya” You nodded your head as you took the can and fork from her cans and began to eat.

You kinda missed the taste of mushy carrots, it reminded you of when Jaosn cooked dinner and he would use the canned stuff.

While you ate, you people-watched. By the old RV, you saw two men messing with the RV engines, one was older with a bucket hat and the other was a little younger with a baseball cap and overalls.

A little farther you saw two other women, they both had short hair but one had black hair and looked like a pixie cut, and the other had shaved with salt and pepper hair. They were doing what looked like laundry, and a little girl wasn't far away from them, she was blonde with a bob.

You took another bite of the carrots when you noticed a younger guy– could have been no older than 23– he was running around camp talking to people with a piece of paper.

You finished your can of carrots and handed it to Lori, “you done hun?” you nodded your head, and she smiled “You want to take a bath?” you nodded again and followed her to a tent.

She unzipped it and went inside and got a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, and some body wash. 

“Oh you actually have soap” She looked back as she grabbed a bowl and a towel.

“Oh yeah, there isn’t much left, unfortunately, but it’s something Glenn will find more hopefully” She led you down a rocky path towards the quarry lake. 

* 

             When you got done with your bath you and Lori walked back towards the camp, you dried your hair while Lori held your stuff for you. It was already dark by the time you were done. Lori led you to a tent unzipped it and ushered you inside, you saw Carl in his bed reading a comic book.

“Hmm” Lori looked around, “I think I have an extra sleeping bag around here” Eventually she pulled a tattered old sleeping bag out from somewhere “Here hun, im sorry it's not nicer,” She said apologetically.

You just smiled and took it “It’s ok, I've been sleeping in trees for weeks” You rolled it out “This will be like a king-sized bed” you joked.

She smiled down at you, “Okay guys, time for bed” She turned off the lamp in the tent and retreated to her bed.

*

             Sleep took a while, you were so used to keeping an ear out just in case. But now you were surrounded by people who could keep an eye out for them.

You turned onto your side to see a small fire outside the tent. You looked around to see both Carl and Lori fast asleep. So very carefully you got up and unzipped the tent. Looking at the fire, you saw the young guy from earlier. He was sitting by himself, sharpening his knife.

You walked over and sat down, he side-eyed you but continued what he was doing. 

It was quiet and stiff as you listened to the sound of the crackling fire and the shaving of metal. You gripped at your shorts and looked at him.

“Thank you,” You said in a quiet voice, “for bringing me here” 

“Yea, don’ mention it,” He said gruffly, you curled up into yourself from the cold.

 “Don't think I got your name” You glanced at him “My name’s Y/n” You introduced yourself to him, but he didn't look at you.

“Daryl” Was all he said, you looked over and saw him inspecting a hunting knife.

“Why are ya up so late?” You looked at the fire. You heard him stop sharpening his knife, glaring at you.

“Why are you asking so many damn questions?” He barked at you, you shrunk a bit at him raising his voice. He went back to messing with his knife.

“Sorry,” your voice was quiet and small. And out of embarrassment, you retreated back to Lori's tent. Once inside you laid down in your sleeping bag and just stared up at the tent ceiling, wishing you could see some kind of stars again.

                                     ~~~The Quarry Day Two~~~

             You were shaken awake by Lori in the early morning. You looked around and saw that Carl was already up and tying his shoes. 

“Hey, it's time to get up” You nodded your head, sat up and grabbed your shoes, and stood up, following Carl and Lori. 

You walked out of the tent to see some people in a small circle. You saw two blonde women hugging, a family hugging a man. A few of them you recognized, such as the fire pit guy and the woman you saw at the clothesline, you also saw Merle standing around with his hunting rifle on his shoulder. 

You saw Shane talking to another guy too, a super younge guy actually. He wore a cap and kinda looked like a kid you'd see in an old baseball movie. You remember seeing him running around yesterday. 

“Hey Lori, why are they all in a circle?” You asked but she was busy getting you some food.

“They’re going on a supply run, into the city” You looked at them with a weird look. “With Merle?” You said with a grimace, you didn't know him very well but you could tell he didn't like people and people didn't like him.

Lori laughed a bit “Yeah I know, I don't know why he chose to go with them” She handed you some squirrel soup and you ate it with no protest meanwhile Carl looked a little grossed out while eating it.

“Hurry up and eat, we got school in twenty minutes” Scrunching your face in confusion you looked at Lori “Oh I guess I forgot to mention, me and Carol give school lessons, and you’re doing them too” You dropped your shoulders, the only good thing about the world ending was the no school part.

                                                            *

You all sat at a picnic table, the supply people had been gone for about an hour now. You were doing stuff you had learned about. The only good thing was that you got to know Carol and Sophia a little better, carol was the woman with the greying and shaved hair, and Sophia was her daughter. 

They were nice, if not a bit quiet. You guess Lori could see your boredom “Have you learned this Y/n?” 

“Umm, yeah, last year” You were a year older than Carl and Sophiea so already knew what they were learning.

“Hmm, well I guess you can go for now” You nodded and got up from the table and wandered around camp, till you stopped in front of the old RV. you debated on going inside it or not, but your thoughts were interrupted by a voice call down to you.

“Are you the Y/n I've been hearin’ so much about?” you looked up to see the old man with the bucket hat, he also had a rifle. And for some reason, he was on the roof of the RV.

You nodded your head “Why are ya up there?” he cracked an amused smile, he had an infectious smile. 

“The View” He shouted back “Why don't you come and see for yourself” He looked friendly enough, so you decided to climb onto the RV and stand by the man. 

“See, isn't it beautiful” He gestured out towards the quarry lake “My favorite view here” He looked down at you to see your reaction.

“It's pretty, the lake is really blue” You didn't really know what to say, you just figured he was being an old man, appreciating random things –kinda like your own grandpa.

“You know, I don’t think I ever introduced myself.” He turned towards you, sticking his hand out to you “I’m Dale, pleased to meet you.” You shook his hand, his eyes were kind.

“Nice to meet you too Dale” You sat down on the RV looking out to the quarry “Why are you up here Dale?” you asked, he had his hunting rifle and there was a deck chair up here, along with an umbrella.

“Oh im on lookout duty, we all take shifts to watch out for those, things.” He took a seat in the deck chair “Don't see much luckily, they all stay near the city” Hearing that just made you thankful you chose to come here. 

“Does it ever get boring?” You asked, you figured you would be if you were up here all day. He only chuckled and picked up a ratty old book giving it to you,

“Sometimes, that's why I read this” The book was called ‘The Case of the Missing Man’. “It's a good book, you should read it sometime.” You flipped through the yellow-worn pages.

“What no pictures?” You joked “But it looks interesting I guess.” He just beamed down at you, laughing a bit at your dumb joke.

“Well why don't you take it, read it, and tell me what you think of it” You put it in your lap. 

“So where you from anyway?” You were curious as to why an old man had an RV and not just a car.

“Ahh, well, im from eastern Georgia. And before all of this, I was going on a cross-country road trip” He explained with a sad look on his face. 

“How did you end up here?”

“Well, I was in Atlanta when it got overrun by the dead and I tried to get out as fast as possible,” You couldn't imagine being in a big city where the dead had risen, “On my way out of the city I encounter two others, Amy and Andrea, actually Andrea is one of the people that is out on that run to Atlanta right now.”

“That was nice of you to help them out” You don't think your family would help others out, well your mom would try, but Jason was kinda the leader and he isn't the type to risk his chance of survival outside family.

“It was the right thing to do” Is all he said “What about you, why are you here?” You looked away at the question.

“I got lost from my Momma and brother,” You picked at your skin a bit “Don't have huge hope in finding them” Dale gave you a sad face. 

“How do know they aren't trying their hardest to find you” You just shrugged your shoulders. 

“Im getting kinda hungry, I think im gonna go eat something” You got up, taking the book Dale gave you “It was nice talking with you Dale, maybe I'll come back later” You began to climb down the ladder “and ill return your book later too” He just cracked a kind smile.

                                                             *

             You were camped out in a tree reading the book Dale gave you, it was an okay book in your opinion, but you'd rather read your comic books. You got bored with a certain part of the book and closed it. You looked out to the camp, once again observing the people. 

They were all doing something important, Lori, Carol, and who suspect was Amy preparing dinner, while men like Shane and Dale were on “guard” of Rotters. Some other men you didn't know were chopping wood up for the fire.

Watching them actually do stuff made you feel useless like you should be doing something. If you were out in the woods right now, you'd be hunting. And if you were at home you probably be cleaning up your mom's mess. But whenever you asked to help out you'd be turned away, told to go play or something and be a kid. You hated it.

After a while you climbed down and asked Lori when she thought dinner would be ready, you were thinking of going to bed early since it was already late.

“It should be done soon, we just need to finish cookin’ the meat, it’ll be done quick” She smiled and continued with what she was doing. With that news you went to sit on a log next to Carl, he always seemed to not be far away from his mom. 

“How did lessons go?” You asked, he and Sophia must have been in seventh grade by now, you'd be in eighth grade.

“It was okay, all we did was math” He replied boredly “What did you do after you left?” He looked at you.

“Nothing much, just kinda wandered around camp, met Dale, he was nice. Gave me this book, it’s kinda borin’ though” You joked 

“I like Dale, he’s nice” he agreed with you, he was pretty nice to talk to.

“He reminds me of my Grandpa Theo, he always had a smile on his face” You missed Grandpa Theo, he died when you were nine, it was one of the few days your momma was sober.

“Alright guys, dinners done, here ya go” Lori gave you guys your bowls and a spoon, squirrel soup again, Carl's favorite.

                                                            *

After you ate you retreated to Lori’s tent to sleep, but you never actually slept instead you just read the book again. The book itself was okay, it was about a detective retelling a case he was on. The case was about a man who suddenly went missing but whenever he investigated any leads people would say he never existed, and that the detective was going crazy. You got bored again and stopped reading halfway through.

You lay down and stared at the tent ceiling again, you just stared at it hoping it would make you sleepy. You heard the tent zip open and in came Lori and Carl, both of them going to their beds, they said their ‘I love yous’ to each other. It made you miss your family more and more.

You fell asleep about thirty minutes later, but you woke up when you heard something rustling in the tent. You cautiously turned your head to the noise and thankfully didn't see any eaters. Instead, you saw in the darkness what looked like another person in Loris's bed. Seeing that you promptly turn over and away from the noise.

                                     ~~~The Quarry Day Three~~~

You wanted to ask Lori about the noise last night but she was already out of bed, and so was Carl. Exiting the tent you find Lori sitting by the campfire. 

You walked up and sat down by her “morin’ Lori”

“Moring hun, how did you sleep?” She was folding some clothes 

“I slept okay I guess” You were tempted to ask about the noise but decided against it. “Is there anything I could do today?” you were getting bored as the days went on, hell it felt like a week since you’d been here, but it's only been three days.

“Now why would want to do anything kid?” Shane asked he was picking up an axe like he was about to do something “You're a kid enjoy it. Hell this is probably like a summer vacation”

You just shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know, just board is all” Lori rubbed your shoulders 

“Why don't you play with Carl and Sophia? They say they want to be friends with you” She gave a soft smile at you “They’re just too shy to say anything”

“I guess I could” You looked around and saw Daryl with his crossbow heading out, you had the idea of going hunting instead, “actually I have another idea” You got up and jogged to Daryl 

“Hey Daryl, are you going hunting?” You caught up to him “If so can I come with you? I really-” You were cut off by Daryl 

“No, go away” With that he walked off leaving you behind. You hung your head and walked off somewhere. You found yourself at the tree you were in yesterday, you climbed it and sat there watching everyone be useful again.

Looking around you saw Lori and Coral talking to each other, coral nodded her head and called over Sophia with Lori doing the same with Carl. They seemed to also be nodding and started to look around for something.

They wandered around camp, stopping people and when the person shook their head they would walk away. It was like that for several minutes till Sophia shook Carl's shoulder and pointed in your direction, confused you looked around to see no one, you looked back to see Them running towards you. 

Oh, I guess it was me you thought, you started to climb down the tree. When you were at the bottom Sophia and Carl were already there.

“Hi,” You said shyly.

“Hi,” They said back just as shy.

“Were you guys looking for me?” You asked, they nodded their heads, and Carl spoke up “Yeah, we were wondering where you were” You nodded your head in understanding 

“Why were you in a tree?’ Sophia asked quietly, you just shrugged your shoulders

“I don't know, just bored I guess, there isn't much to do around here” You shoved your hands in your pocket “Wanted to go huntin’ with Daryl but he said no” When you said that Carl had the bright idea.

“Why don't you show us how to track and stuff, ya know how to survive in the woods and stuff” Sophia nodded her head “We just gotta ask our moms about it”

“Yeah, why not” So you all walked over to Lori and Carol, Lori was there but not Carol, so Sophia went to go find her.

You and Carl walked up to Lori when the radio in the camp went off

“HELLO, HELLO. CAN ANYBODY HEAR MY VOICE?”

The voice on the radio was distorted and hard to understand. A girl with long blond hair rushed to the radio and tried to radio back the unknown 

“Hey, Hello?” – “CAN YOU HEAR MY VOICE” – “YES, your coming through, over” her voice sounded hopeful as Dale came over to try and help –“IF ANYBODY HEARS PLEASE RESPOND”– “Your crap radio must not be going through”

“BROADCASTING ON EMERGENCY CHANNEL WILL BE APPROACHING ATLANTA ON HIGHWAY 85 IF ANYBODY READS, PLEASE RESPOND”

The girl was desperately trying to get back to him “We're just outside the city” The radio started to crackle “damn it” She cursed the rain.

“He couldn't hear me, I couldn't warm him” The girl was frustrated but Dale tried to calm her down “Try to raise him again, maybe he’s still around” She tried again but Shane came walking over.

“Come on son you know best how to work this thing” Shane put his axe down and took the talkie from the girl.

“Hello, Hello, is the person who called still on the air?” The radio just crackled “This is Officer Shane Walsh, broadcasting to a person unknown, please respond” The radio continued to crack and the air was tense with everybody trying to listen for the unknown guy.

“He’s gone” Shane gave up on trying. Lori tried to lighten the mood “They’re other, not just us” Shane just retorted with an attitude.

“We knew there would be, right? Why we leave the C.B. on” Lori responded with her own.

“Lot of good it’s been doing” Lori continued “And I've been sayin’ for a week ought to put signs up on 85, warming people about the city” She seemed to glance at you for a second. 

“Folks got no idea what they're getting into,” The blonde girl said, Shane just grunted and got up “Well we haven't had time” was Shane's excuse.

Lori wasn’t taking it though “Well I think we need to make time” Shane just rubbed the sweat off his face.

“Well that's a luxury we can't afford” You could tell he was getting impatient “We are surviving here, we are day to day” Dale looked conflicted “And who hell would you propose we send” That just seemed to piss Lori off a bit.

“I'll go, give me a car” she gritted her teeth, but Shane shot that down quickly “No, nobody goes anywhere alone, you know that” Lori walked away pissed, you and Carl attempt to follow her but Shane stopped you guys. 

“Hey Hey Hey, Go on guys, take a seat. You’re alright, go on, you’re alright” He walked away following Lori. You and Carl just stood around, you noticed Sophia walking up with a bummed look on her face

“What did your mom say?” You asked “She said no, but she said it was ok if I “explored” the camp,” She said in air quotes “What about you guys?”

“Some guy came over on the radio so we didn't get a chance,” you said kicking a rock “Yeah, and she and Shane got into an argument so she’s kinda mad right now” Carl kicked the rock back to you “why don't we go ask her now?” you said, Carl nodded his head and both walked towards the tent

While walking up to the tent you noticed the door was open and what looked like Shane and Lori were inside. Their legs were closer than you thought normal

“Mom” Carl yelled and the two bodies broke apart, Shane came out of the tent.

“What's up, guys? She’s in there, go on” he rubbed Carl’s head and walked away, Lori walked out of the tent meeting you guys, she got down on one knee and met you guys.

“Hey, I don't you guys to worry,” she grabbed your guy's shoulder “im not going anywhere, Okay?” you guys nodded your head “Yeah, yeah” she smiled “Okay, was there anything you guys wanted?”

“Yeah, we were wondering if we could go out and explore the woods. I could show Carl how to survive in the woods and stuff” She thought about it for a second, “Right, but don't go too far, stay within shouting distance, Okay?” you nodded your heads. You rushed past Lori and got your bow and quiver.

                                                             *

             You guys had been in the woods for about an hour, Sophia was with you for a little bit till her dad called her over. Right now you were teaching Carl how to track small animals.

“You see this one right here?” you pointed out a print to Carl “It's a rabbit’s footprint, can you see how the front is bigger and the hind are smaller?” he nodded “And how you can see both front and hind legs? Thats because a rabbit walks, kinda like a worm?” you didn't know to explain it

“So like, it moves its front legs first then it’ll move its back legs” Carl nodded his head “Now we probably won't see any rabbits during this time of day, they’re more active at dawn, and dusk” 

You and Carl started to follow the trail of this random rabbit, it looked somewhat fresh, made maybe around morning. “They like to hide in shrubbery and bushes and stuff.” Carl nodded his head and kept his eyes on the bushes.

While you were tracking Carl shook your shoulder “Look” he whispered, and you looked to where he was pointing, your eyes made contact with a rabbit, and you and the rabbit held eye contact not blinking.

Well, you blinked when a bolt impaled it. Carl gasped in surprise and fell on his ass. And out came Daryl with his crossbow and other small game on his shoulders.

“The hell you two doin’ out here?” he asked you guy gruffly as he took the bolt from the rabbit and secured it on his animal rope.

“None of your business” you shot back “Come on Carl, let's get back to camp” You pulled Carl up from the ground and headed back to camp.

“Sorry you had to see that Carl” You put a hand on his shoulder “but I guess you also had to see it? I don't know, that's what huntin’ and surviving is” Carl shrugged his shoulders 

“It's okay, I get it, too bad we couldn't take the rabbit though” he looked at you “Would’ve been nice to try rabbit” You chuckled a little bit.

                                                          ***

             When you guys got back you had dinner and told Shane about your adventures in the woods. Both Lori and Shane called Daryl an asshole for shooting the rabbit in front of you guys. When you guys were done you all went to bed. You and Carl stayed awake and talked to each other. 

That’s how you learned that his dad was also gone, and how Shane rescued him and Lori. He said they were on their way to Atlanta but the roads stopped and not long after that he saw them bombing Atlanta. You guessed thats why Lori and Shane acted weird around you whenever Atlanta was brought up.

Not long after both you and Carl fell asleep, and you dreamed of the stars and your momma

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

Next // Swimmin' With The Frogs

Previous // The Before Times

Taglist // @your-shifting-gurl, @underrated-jellygirl

// Masterlist //

[eunoias-blog0]

Dating Calvin Fischoeder headcannons [Cause I'm too lazy to write a full fic]

My bad if the spacing is very strange, I wrote this on Google docs on my laptop and had to paste it, please forgive me if it's bad lol

@self-shippingbingus e

Meeting him for the first time!!!

●Yall meet at the restaurant, obviously

You're there to visit your older brother Bob and his wife and kids, he's there to collect rent.

You're messing around with the kids when he comes in.

"Hello Belchers! And…you." 

Linda is immediately suspicious.

You greet him with a shy nod and a hello, before he turns to Bob and asks about you.

Bob explains that you're his younger sister, born just before his mother died. [Reader is late twenties/early thirties]

He nods and goes quiet before asking you for your name. You give it to him and he immediately gives you an odd nickname.

It's weird but endearing.

He collects the rent silently and leaves, glancing at you several times during the whole interaction.

He's got a crush <3

        First time he asks you out!!

●You're at the pier with Louise, Gene and Tina when they leave you alone to go on some ride you were scared of (me projecting my fear of rollercoasters lmao)

He finds you sitting alone on some random bench and stops to say hello, asking you some questions about yourself and what you thought of WonderWarf

He specifically asks you how you feel about the rides he came up with/ parts of the Warf he designed.

He gets all flustered if you compliment them <3

He later asks you if you felt like going on the ferris wheel with him, to which you decline as you can see the kids returning, but offer to go another time instead.

He nods and says he'll meet with you the next day for a date in the Warf

He walks away before you can answer, only giving you a time and what to wear 

It goes lovely, he gets you dinner afterwards at a nice restaurant (you make sure to tell him Jimmy Pesto's is off limits, which he respects) and you give him a kiss goodbye at the end of the date <3

          Dating him!!

●I don't pin him as a super jealous guy, but he definitely gets a little possessive most of the time. He's not super vocal about it, opting to just wrap an arm around your waist and glare at the person or rest his hand on your lower back and whisper in your ear. He also gets super pouty and upset if you ignore him.

He takes you on his trips everywhere, it annoys Felix sometimes but he's gotten used to it.

He's not above firing someone or upping their rent if they upset you.

He loves physical touch but gets fidgety and can't sit still for all that long, but he loves messing with your hair or your hands, holding them and/or tracing random shapes on the back of them softly.

Gives THE BEST forehead kisses and usually gives them when he's proud of you/happy.

Shows you off to EVERYONE 

He is so happy you're his, he wants the whole universe he's yours.

He won't show it very outwardly in public but he's always smiling even slightly when you're around. 

He's not too bothered about telling your family, but he knows you're worried about Bob finding out so he keeps a low profile when they're around/when he comes to collect rent.

Except he doesn't really and he still flirts with you constantly, he just doesn't let on you're dating.

The kids definitely know. Especially Tina, she thinks it's super romantic and cool that you have to hide your relationship. 

He calls you honey, darling, my love, beloved, mistress and Dove

You call him Cal, Caviar (rich person joke lol), Fish-man, sweetheart, my love, and hon <3

      Telling Bob and Linda about you guys!!

●I think how Bob finds out is that one time him and Calvin were tied under the pier. 

Calvin suggests calling you, knowing you'll answer. He recites your number off by heart as if Bob doesn't know and Bob gets suspicious.

He starts asking questions and gradually starts yelling, a mixture of confusion, anxiety from the whole pier thing, and hurt that you didn't tell him.

Might make a fic out of this lol

Calvin explains, leaving out the details he knows you would be able to explain better and general stuff he thinks you'd rather talk to Bob about in private.

Bob slowly calms down and talks about how he's scared of how much his younger sibling is growing up so fast.

Calvin sympathises as he felt that way with Felix (tho felix still acts like a child most of the time)

After they're out from under the pier, you run into his arms crying and yelling at him to never scare you like that again. 

He pats your head gently and kisses your forehead, still aware of Bob being around though he's occupied with Linda and the kids.

Linda sees you guys hugging in a more-than-friendly way and gasps

Bob just sighs and is like "Yeah, I know." 

The kids start telling them about how they knew all along.

You have a heart to heart with Bob later on, he says he's not entirely okay with it but he understands you love Calvin, and that you'll always be his kid sibling no matter what <3

          Random headcannons!!(some nsfw)

●He LOVES to spoil you. Too much at times and Felix gets jealous.

Felix was jealous when you first started dating but you guys are friends now.

You and Fanny hung out before she tried to murder your brother and your boyfriend and several other of your loved ones.

He wants kids but realises it's already a burden living with the Fischoeder name and is scared he'll be a bad father.

Grover had a crush on you when he first met you and tried to fight Calvin for you. He lost.

NSFW ahead!!!!

○Breeding kink.

Probably more of a sir kinda guy than a daddy but is down if you're into it.

He'll choke you but only lightly, he doesn't wanna hurt you.

Spanking is good though, if you're OK with it. The choking is just a little much considering he's been almost murder several times.

He's like a good 5-6 inches. 

Insecure about his body but you make sure he has nothing to worry about obviously.

Loves to praise you!!!!! All the praise!!! 

Praise mixed with teasing but no heavy degradation.

"Such a naughty little thing, so good for me"

Will degrade you if you ask but his default is praise <3

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 4 / 31 * BACKYARD COOKOUT 」

For the fourth time in the last seven minutes, Marty checks his watch and immediately glances over his shoulder toward the driveway, frowning when everything is as silent and quiet as it was the last three times he looked. A sparrow lands on the still unpaved driveway, kicking up a small cloud of dirt, and Marty sighs, another minute or two away from carving out a small hole in the grass with how he’s been constantly tapping his foot.

Clara smooths out the decorative tablecloth over the designated snack table for the afternoon and walks over, joining Marty at the edge of the yard.

“Everything alright?”

“—Yeah. I just want this to be perfect, you know? Jen’s been worrying about this promotion for weeks, ever since that asshole Christian Delaney made that stupid comment about how the only reason she’s getting promoted is because she’s hot. Can you believe that?” Marty huffs, feeling that spark of anger ignite in his veins. He’d give that Delaney asshole a piece of his mind if it didn’t have the potential to jeopardise things at work for Jen, but it’s difficult knowing that anybody would dare speak to his wife like that and he can’t do anything about it.

Clara frowns, recalling the name printed on one of the Hill Valley Telegraph’s second or third-page columns underneath a wall of text that even just skimming admittedly summoned a dull headache and had her contemplating a trip to the medicine cabinet for some Tylenol. “I’ve had the misfortune of trying to read a few of his articles; he’s been doing nothing but spreading misinformation through these spurious reports. I daresay Jules could’ve written better pieces.”

Marty scowls, remembering the nights Jen would come home, doubting her skill and talent as a journalist. “Nobody on that paper cares about the job more than Jen. She’s always double—hell, triple-checking her facts and staying up late collecting her sources to make sure everything’s just right. And that’s why her stuff is ending up on the front page. This guy’s just jealous he can’t hack it so he wants to make Jen feel bad about it.”

“Is that why you wanted this to be a surprise?”

“Partially. I know she’s excited about the promotion—it’s a huge deal, you know?—but even without Delaney, she’s also been stressed about all the new responsibilities that come with it. If anyone can handle them, Jen can, and I just wanted to show her that she’s got support and we’re all rooting for her. But with how she’s been feeling lately, if I told her why she needed to come over, she’d probably say no and just take the time to sit at home instead.”

Clara nods sagely as Emmett emerges from the kitchen door in a bright orange Hawaiian shirt and dark pants balancing a tray of grilling supplies, his white hair a beacon under the blinding summer sun. He throws a grin their way when he catches them watching and Clara waves, a small smile on her face.

“So what did you tell her to convince her to come over?”

“Jen thinks she’s coming by to pick up the twins. I told her that I had a meeting with one of our producers and I wouldn’t be getting out until late. And you know that Jen hates just dumping the kids on you two whenever we can’t get a sitter; she’s coming straight here after work.”

Marty runs through the mental list he’d made of everything that needed to be set up before Jen got here—the silver banner that read Congratulations, Jennifer was securely tied between two repurposed metal poles borrowed from Doc’s lab with expert help from Jules and Verne, Jen’s favourite cake was in the fridge so as not to melt under the summer heat, he and Doc had spent the morning at the store picking up various vegetables and meats to be grilled, a bottle of Jen’s favourite wine was being chilled—

“Oh Marty,” Clara chides, slipping into that disapproving schoolteacher voice that makes him almost immediately want to apologise if it means sparing himself that look.

Clara doesn’t even have to finish that thought for Marty to read exactly what was running through her mind.

“I know, I know, and I feel bad for lying to her like that but she’ll understand why as soon as she gets here! She should forgive me when she sees this…”

Lord only knows he’s tried to convince Jen time-and-time again neither Doc nor Clara minded watching the kids here-and-there and if they did ever have a problem with it, they wouldn’t resort to passive-aggressiveness like so many of the others. They weren’t like that. And whenever Doc made up his mind about something, it was near impossible to change his mind—he was stubborn, excessively so, and certainly never one to agree to anything because he felt obligated to do so.

But Jen had been—

Ellie shouts excitedly, ripping Marty away from his runaway thoughts with a momentary surge of fatherly panic. She’s hurt, what happened— Immediately she hops to her feet, hurrying over to where Emmett is preparing the first round of items to be grilled, laying everything out with ease of convenience in mind. Verne and Curie are swiftly and wholly forgotten in the wake of Ellie’s favourite person, spared not even a parting glance for her Unca Doc.

Verne and Curie exchange a look, the latter tilting her head in the closest thing to a canine shrug she can manage.

“Can I help, Unca Doc?”

Emmett smiles down at her, passing her the spatula after what, to a four-year-old, feels like a eternity’s deliberation. “Will you hold on to this while I fire up the grill? Be careful not to drop it—it’s very important.”

Ellie beams, enthusiastically nodding her sworn promise that she wouldn’t dare break under threat of the most terrible consequences conceivable—disappointing her uncle—and grips the spatula with both hands.

“Uncle Marty!” Jules peeks his head out from the kitchen window and hovering just behind is little Emmett, looking positively pleased with himself. “Imagers are all set up; Aunt Jen won’t suspect a thing!”

“Thanks guys!”

With the last pressing matter taken care of, Marty checks his watch once again.

“Marty, why don’t you come to the kitchen with me; I could use the extra set of hands to bring the snacks and refreshments out.”

Marty nods, grateful for the distraction, and follows Clara into the house. The burst of air conditioned air smacks him in the face the moment the door opens and he wipes the thin layer of sweat beading on his brow with the back of his hand.

“All of this is going out?” He gestures to the assortment of crisps and other snacks piled on the counter.

“Yes; anywhere on the table is fine.”

Marty gathers as much of it in his arms in one go as he can, shouldering the back door open. Clara follows a beat after, two pitchers of chilled iced tea in her hands and a sleeve of plastic cups under her arm.

They set up the table as another round of excited childish shouts and shrieks fill the air and Clara finds herself once again staring fondly at her husband and Ellie talking animatedly over by the grill.

Marty all but dumps the snacks on the table, mindlessly pushing them around when he hears the sound of tires rolling over the dirt drive. “Guys! Jen’s here!”

Clara takes the lead, walking toward the gate to intercept Jennifer before she makes the needless trek to the front door. “We’re in the backyard!”

Jen shuts the door and hurries over, a thousand and one apologies written into the lines of her face. “I’m so sorry Clara: Marty was supposed to pick them up half an hour ago—”

She holds up a hand, derailing that train of thought before it can pick up any more speed. “Nonsense; we love watching the kids. It’s never a problem. Between you and me, I think Emmett has always wanted a daughter, what with the way he spoils her.”

“Ellie’s attached at the hip to Doc,” Jen says, relief softening her features to the point where she actually finds herself smiling. “Some days I think she likes him more than she likes us.”

Clara smiles knowingly, thinking back to that small classroom, the way her students’ eyes would sparkle whenever they learned that Mister Brown would be assisting with the day’s lessons.

“He’s always had a way with children,” she says fondly, leading Jen into the yard. “I think it’s because he’s never lost his enthusiasm for life and the children can relate to the way he sees the world.”

Jen ponders over that for a moment, recalling the stories from her youth about the wild Doctor Brown, Hill Valley’s resident mad scientist and nebulous terror with enough rumours about his alleged misdoings to fill the Clocktower twice over.

“Mommy’s here!” Ellie shouts, garnering the attention of the others now gathered under the shining silver banner. Jen pauses, stunned, as a chorus of “Congratulations, Jen!” rings out, leaving her speechless and staring, trying to process what’s happening right in front of her.

[dimonds456]

hi guys.

MASSIVE CW/TW for medical misconduct, strong language, disability, talk of Death and dying, transphobia / enbyphobia, and personal drama below the cut. I genuinely have no clue what to do anymore.

Also no, this isn't gonna be me asking for money or anything. I'm fine there. It's literally everything else that's the problem.

also long post.

Okay, I'm terrified and I don't know what to do or who to talk to. I keep forgetting to call my doctor, and I'm also actively trying to find a new, different doctor, but every single site to do that is either down or inaccessible as fuck. He won't answer me on the website that's supposed to let you get in touch with your doctor, and as far as I know there's no way to report him for anything he's doing to me.

I have a paper trail now and will be calling him Dr K, since he refers to himself like that in one of the screenshots I have.

For a bit of backstory, I have Graves Disease. Fucking love the name, great choice. Graves Disease is a sub-genre of hyperthyroidism, a typically genetic disease in which your thyroid- a butterfly-shaped gland located at the front of the throat that regulates your metabolism- starts over-producing hormones and doesn't stop. I've had it since middle school.

Here they are in all their glory. For context on how bad this shit can get, my RESTING heart rate BPM was around 100. When I started running around, it got up OVER 200. THAT'S ENOUGH TO GIVE SOMEONE A HEART ATTACK. I was in middle school at the time, so adjust for how much smaller my body was, but STILL. Still terrible numbers, and I was literally in grave danger by the time I got treated.

(wow i love that its called graves disease haha such a funny name WHO NAMED THIS DISEASE I JUST WANNA FUCKING TALK)

So, since I'm 20, it's safe to assume I have the lifelong/chronic variant at this point (it festered for at least 6 months before I started getting treatment, and though it has gotten a bit better with time, not by much).

I don't care if I have to be on meds forever, that's not the problem. The problem is everything else.

Enter my two doctors, Dr M and Dr K.

Dr M was first, he was my childhood doctor and he's the one who originally started treating me. I don't remember much about him, just that he frustrated me constantly because he never listened. I'd tell him that my symptoms got worse after he lowered my dosage, and instead of talking to me about that, he'd point at a chart full of numbers that I don't understand and say "well your numbers look good so." and then proceed to continue lowering my dosage again until it because obvious to him that I was telling the truth, in which he'd up my dosage.

Now, as a kid, I was very much not outspoken. I still am not. I've never been very pushy about anything and always let people walk all over me, so I only really ever got listened to when the "numbers" started to reflect what I was saying. And yeah, my self-confidence it a whole other conversation and I do need to work on that, but also... part of being a doctor is to listen to your patient, right? So no matter how quiet or afraid I was, I should still have been heard out and treated like a person and not a goddamn statistic.

Then, I turned 18. I had until I was 19 to find an "adult" doctor, and Dr M kept seeing me until that could happen. But I had no idea how the fuck to do that. And no one explained it to me. I needed to be sat down and shown exactly how to do it step-by-step, but that never happened. I never got the help I needed.

April 7th, 2022, I turned 19 years old. Time was up, and I still didn't have a different doctor. I had no clue where to start.

I was living on my own now. I had an apartment I'd been staying in for a little less than a year, had a terrible home life with my roommates, had a 3rd shift 10 and a half-hour job + college, and no new doctor. I got one last prescription refill from Dr M, and then that was it. I wasn't allowed to see him anymore.

I kept putting off finding a new doctor because I was preoccupied with The Horrors™, something else that traumatized me last year that lasted from November 2021 to late October 2022. It went on for a literal year and I still haven't recovered from it at all, but again, that's a whole other can of worms that I cannot open yet. But the point is that I was in the mental warzone at the time, and just... never thought about a new doctor.

July 2022.

My 3 months of prescription were over. I was on the wrong dosage, and my symptoms were flaring up. BAD. And I still didn't have a doctor. Time to panic. I don't remember what happened, but my dad was able to help me find a doctor named Dr K, and we set up an appointment- 3 days before the last of my meds would have run out.

I just had to make it til then, then everything would be okay, right? I wasn't going to die- I wasn't going to die. I had to hold onto that. i wasn't going to die.

I saw him, he was able to get me on proper meds, and my dosage was upped from half a pill twice a day to 2 pills twice a day. MUCH better, it helped a lot. Thank fuck, I'm not going to die.

I thought that, maybe, finally, I got a doctor who would listen. But he doesn't. He fucking doesn't. He does the exact same thing as Dr M and only looks at "the numbers" and doesn't listen to what I'm telling him.

Fast forward to now. I am still processing The Horrors™, have (C?)PTSD, I have a new eating disorder that not even the doctors are sure wtf it is (might be ARFID? But they genuinely have no idea, I'm in a weird grey area, so THAT'S comforting), I have new weakness in my legs and arms that they don't know how that got there, I've fallen 3 times, and Graves Disease gave me an eye disease that can make me go blind if untreated. Awesome.

...Dr K still isn't listening.

My most recent appointment with him was last month, when I went to get a normal follow-up. Apparently they forgot to do labs for his stuff and just did them for my eating disorder, so he doesn't really have much to go off of in terms of "the numbers" and I'm the one who takes the blame for it, not the labwork people who forgot to take my labs while I was there getting labs. Fine. Whatever.

I tell him about my symptoms flaring back up, and he continues going on about my "numbers". Points at a graph I can't read. "Your numbers look fine." What does that mean? Idk, he didn't tell me.

During that visit, he brought up with me that I want to have top surgery. I say yes, and then he starts going off about how I need to start HRT before they can do the surgery. I ask why, and he tells me that it's just how they do things. I have to be on HRT for at least 6 months before I can get the surgery I want.

Now, I am transmasc (nonbinary). I am not against HRT, but it's not something I'm sure I want yet. I tell him as such, and he then states that "well since you're still confused, you should talk to a therapist first and then we'll go from there." BITCH I'M NOT CONFUSED. I JUST DON'T WANT HRT RIGHT NOW. I have 50 other medical problems to worry about, I'm not in a good position to start it even IF I WANTED TO. WHICH I DO NOT. I just know I want the surgery! That's it!

I tell him as such, and he keeps insisting that I'm just confused in what I want and basically said that I'm not trans enough to warrant a surgery if I don't want HRT.

Great. Well, now I'm pissed.

Two days later, I hopped onto a Discord server and asked if I was right in thinking that what he said was wrong, and everyone agreed that yeah, what he told me was fucked up. I even brought this up with my parents, who- although they do support me as an individual- are mildly transphobic, and even THEY agreed that what he told me was fucked up. I should not be FORCED into anything like that because I'm "not trans enough," that's BULLSHIT.

Anyway. At the end of my original visit with him, he sent me to get the labwork done same-day and then told me he would update me with what we were going to do.

Last Thursday, August 3rd, I got a phone call saying that he was canceling my prescription altogether.

My meds, which- as a reminder- SAVED ME FROM DYING LAST YEAR, which I know for a FACT I need to live since I was on death's doorstep just for being on the wrong dosage of these meds- yeah fuck em. You don't need them. "Your numbers are good."

The goal has been to ween me off. Slowly but surely reduce my pills a little at a time to slowly ween my body off the medication. I'm taking 30 mg a day. THIS IS NOT WEENING.

Now, I do make a comment I'm not proud of in the following screenshot, but the context is that I had already asked what the numbers meant and got brushed aside for it, both as a kid AND a teenager. I am now 20. So, of course, the "I'm not a kid anymore" thing pops up here, like the fucking cliche that I am. But I have not edited these screenshots except to blot out my picture. I refuse to edit them, just so it's crystal clear the BULLSHIT I'm dealing with.

I went onto the website and sent my doctor some questions, because I was rightfully afraid of what would happen if I suddenly couldn't take medication that I need to live. And the answer I got? Well, look.

I just took these screenshots as I was making this post.

Yeah, so ignoring the "I'm not a kid anymore" comment (I knew I would regret writing that and I did it anyway, go me), I feel like I was professional and careful with my wording here, right? I asked each question and explained why I was asking in-depth in hope of answers. And, I numbered those questions to ensure all 4 got addressed. And all I got was MORE questions.

And he never answered. That was August 7th. It's the 10th now. And I'm suffering. My symptoms are coming back more and more each day, and I've been trying desperately to ween myself off of meds so it's not the literal sudden change that he wants for my body. And also like, I'm sorry but am I reading this right? WHAT THE FUCK DOES "NORMAL HYPERTHYROIDISM RANGE" MEAN?? DO YOU WANT ME TO GET WORSE? RESET ME BACK TO ZERO? UNDO ALL THE PROGRESS I'VE MADE? CUZ ITS WORKING.

Sitting here writing this, my thyroid hurts. I can feel the swelling going up. You can hold it between two fingers now. I'm in pain when you tug on it in a certain direction, which used to be a comforting motion of mine. My resting BPM is going back up fast, the swelling behind my eyes is getting worse (which, again, COULD MAKE ME GO BLIND), and I was super reliant on my cane for balance today, not just the weakness in my knee/hip region that I'd been using it for. I'm getting worse FAST.

I am no stranger to Death. Honestly, my relationship with Death has gone from fearful to almost friendly over time. I feel like we know each other well, they and I. After nearly drowning at age 7, I feel like we've built a pretty uncommonly close relationship with each other. I've looked into the void, it looked back, shook its head and told me to try again. Many times. Not many other people can say that.

Death has given me many chances. I keep getting lucky. But, y'know, after dancing with Death for the majority of my life and being visited by them at least twice a year at this point, you'd think I'd start to figure out the steps to keep up with them, right? Well, you underestimate my ability to dance, ever. All it takes is a touch, and Death will have me.

"Just get a new doctor!" I still don't know how, and when I want to try? The website was down (which isn't the same website as the one I use to talk to Dr K, it's a completely different site).

"Call the office and keep calling them until you get answers!" A) phone calls are scary, B) the nurses aren't going to have the answers I need, only the doctors will, and C) you can't just call your doctor, not in this fucking day and age. If I want an appointment, I gotta book it out by months.

This morning, all I had was a half a pill. I'm running low on meds, and I'm trying to take them only as needed, and with as little as possible, to preserve them for as long as I can. But with all this happening, I... I want to take another half, but that would do more harm in the end than good since I'd have less for later. My dad suggested a Tylenol, since my throat is inflamed and that might make the swelling go down (but it wouldn't address the issue in that my thyroid is making far more hormones than it should be). So now I have to choose.

I had a panic attack over this earlier. I looked up to pick up a box from a tall shelf and fell backwards- the same thing that finally convinced my parents that something might actually have been wrong with me and got me to see a doctor 6 months too late originally. Only difference is that there's no broken plate this time. All I did was look up and I stumbled backwards into the wall.

I don't want to die. Oh, stars, I don't want to die. But they're not going to refill my prescription, and I'm 86% sure my doctor is doing this on purpose because of the trans thing (you could hear it in his tone, but that's not really proof of anything). He won't explain himself, and then proceeded to ignore me when I asked for answers. I need a new doctor, but I don't know how to get one, and the website is STILL DOWN.

I'm fucked. I'm actually fucked.

Death has been kind to me before. I just have to trust that they'll be kind to me again. And I know personifying something like Death is fucking stupid but it's all I have left at this point.

I don't want to die, stars I don't. Been there done that. I just want to feel okay. I just want to feel safe. But in this body, I'll never feel safe. My Graves will never go away, and my throat is closing up what with the inflamation, and I'm in pain, and my eyes hurt, and my eating disorder keeps taking more and more away from me, and I could barely make it through fucking mini golf earlier, so how the fuck am I going to go back to work like this?! They're going to fire me, and then what? Do I just lay down and die?! Let it happen? Because if THIS is all my life is going to be, fighting just for the right to be alive from the people who are SUPPOSED to be helping me STAY alive, then what is the fucking point?!

I should clarify; I am not suicidal. I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I just want to feel okay. Please, stars, that's all I want. I just want to feel safe. I just want to feel loved. I just want to feel happy. I just want to feel like it all meant something, that I can push through and use my own suffering to lift others up so they don't have to suffer like I did. The point is to ease other's suffering as much as I can. That's all I've ever wanted. But all I do is bring others down with me, because of things that are out of my control.

i'm tired. i'm hot. i'm hungry. i can't eat. i'm angry. i'm emotionless. i'm exhausted. i'm cold. i feel sick. i'm in pain. i'm numb. i just want it to be over. i want to push through. i want to give in. i want it all to stop. i want to feel safe.

...I'm gonna try the Tylenol. I can't afford to take any more of my meds.

hah, i'm like doug from portal. save em for the end times.

I just... what if my dad is right and this is all in my head? Like, it's fucking not, I can FEEL the inflamation getting bigger both on my skin and in my throat, but... what if? What if all of this is just anxiety? What if this is all just a result of my trauma from last year? fuck man, idk. i need help, and not even my therapist knows how to give it to me. i'm lost. i don't know who to talk to or who can help me.

im sorry. I'm still going to try to make as positive an impact as I can while I'm still here, but... stars, I just don't know how much time I have.

If you made it this far, take a second and count your blessings, okay? Take the time to wave to friendly faces of your past, remember things you did and people you've met. Remember your favorite childhood bookseries, or your favorite TV show. Appreciate the people closest to you. Hug your pet. Hug your siblings. Send your guardians a text appreciating them for the good memories they've given you, if you can.

Breathe. You're alive. Somehow, someway... you're alive. And isn't that wonderful? To defy the very nature of science that we still don't understand, to plant your feet on the ground and go "no, I'm here and I am alive and I live for myself"? That's incredible.

I'm alive, too. By stars I'm alive. And I'm not gonna go anywhere until I'm forced from this earth kicking and screaming. And I'm gonna try my goddamn best to make sure that every day is as good as it can be, for everyone around me. For myself.

Fuck it, we only have so much time. We gotta make the best of it, eh? Good memories. I want to go thinking about good memories. Laughter. Friends.

Maybe that could be enough.

[theonlyblackcanary]

Started A Joke

Aesthetic by @ravenclaw-seeker

Summary: Psychologist Brian O'Connor falls in love and changes for supervillain Dominic Toretto also known as The Joker.

Tag squad: @atiny-angel @swifteforeverandalways @greek-freak101 @katries @axelwolf8109 @epickiya722 @the-iridescent-phoenix @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @lynsrosegarden @bamfbuddie

"Oh, I always look forward to these meetings of ours Bri" Dominic Toretto leered with lust at his therapist Brian O'Connor

The blond laughed nervously and brushed away a none existent strand of hair. "I don't think we're aloud to enjoy this"

Dom growled a bit. "I need a favor" "I can't do much" "Oh come on Brian, anything for me?" Brian was so infatuated with him, he bit his lip and nodded. "I can try"

"I need a machine gun" "A machine gun?" Brian deadpanned back in minor disbelief.

Dom cackled a bit. "I mean...I can try"

---------

"Let me go!" Brian cried as he was dropped onto a table. "What do we have here?" Dom leaned over him. "What are you doing? I helped you!" Brian whimpered.

"Helped me?! You got into my mind and pulled out every memory I had!" Dom shouted. "What're you gonna do?" Brian goaded him a bit. "Are you gonna kill me?"

"Oh I'm not going to kill you, I'm just gonna hurt you, really. Really. Bad"

Pain. That was all Brian felt, right on both sides of his temple.

------

"You're not leaving me again!" Brian didn't care he stole and crashed a motorcycle to get to Dom. "If you weren't crazy, I'd think you were insane!" The older man shouted.

"I gave up everything for you! I even forgave you for this!" Brian grabbed at his head. "I gave myself to you and you just threw me out"

"You were just a escape" Dom said coldly. Brian pulled out a gun. The Joker was unimpressed. "A gun doesn't scare you but my heart does" Brian said tearfully.

"I'm not telling you again Doc, go away" "Please, I'll do anything for you!"

Dom turned around. "Anything?"

----------

"This" Dom held out his arms and breathed in the chemicals. "Is where I was truly born"

Brian looked around, Dom grabbing his head and forcing the attention back to him. "Would you die for me?" "Yes" Brian said immediately.

"No, that's too easy. Would you live for me?" Brian hesitated for only a second. "Yes"

Dom guided him to a railing and gestured. Brian fell backwards into the vat of chemicals. Dom wanted to leave, Dom should have left. But instead he tore his coat off with a growl and dove after him.

The Joker swam with his Harlequin to the surface, Brian took a gasp of air. His Joker saved him. He did love him. The pair kissing passionately in the vat, Dom laughing manically.

------

"We're all happy to see you back Dom" Vince sat down, Leon in all his half burnt glory and Jesse nodded. Dom wasn't paying attention, watching Brian dance with a random guy, almost everyone staring at him.

"Who's the kid?" "Brian O'Connor, he got me out of Arkham, I want all of you to treat him as you would treat me" Dom growled before whistling. "Puddin" Brian purred before laughing manically

Dom rather roughly pulled him onto his lap. Vince made a look that did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

"Got a problem?" Dom raised a dyed green eyebrow. "He looks like a whore" Brian pouted before laughing again. "You're so fucked!" He rolled over and laughed more.

"I didn't mean it like that, he looks like Letty except with no plants" More laughter, Leon smirked a bit.

"Can I kill him Puddin? Can I?" Brian begged. Dom raised his hand and Brian quieted down. "He deserves it" He pouted again.

"Leon, heads I let Bri have at it, tails he gets one more chance" "Two Face is gonna get ya!"

A coin flew in the air. "Tails" Leon said, so uninterested. Brian stuck his tongue out and curled into Dom's side again.

"He's crazier than me" Dom gripped Brian's face to look at him.

Brian cackled. "So what now, your partner in crime is fucking fruit loop?"

"We rule over this fucking town"

[bee-58415]

Line without a Hook: Chapter 1 (Warphy)

Radio silence. Just that for what is now 6 months 1 week and 4 days, not knowing anything from Limbo, just silence. Warren had been staying at Cooper’s for a wile now (as a friend), but the others would stop by sometimes and ask if they knew anything, 10k and Addy always said that they were probably having a month's long rave and wouldn’t answer. Doc would always be worried that what if their radio got damaged at a party or something, and they couldn’t call in. Cooper wasn’t bothered by the silence, he never really liked when Murphy would call in and basically praise Warren for anything really, like when she managed to plant Z weed back in February. Warren was just worried, she wondered what was happening, “Why hasn’t he called in!” she yelled at her radio, Cooper just looked at her annoyed “he’s probably getting drunk with the blends” Cooper mumbled looking up from his book, Warren snapped her head to look at Cooper “you really don’t care?! what if Zona got his ass or got Sun Mei’s brain? then what!” she asked, looking incredulously at the man. Cooper didn’t even sound a bit sorry when he said “not too much, if he was in danger he would have sent one of the blends…” he waved off, then the radio went on “WARREN! WARREN! WE GOT A BIT OF AN EMERGENCY OVER HERE! GET HERE QUICK, CHIEF!” It was Doc. “Shit! what now…”

By the time that they got to Newmerica, Doc came running out the gate, “Warren! you need to get in here! oh, hey Cooper” he greeted, yanking Warren by her arm and dragging her to a small but sturdy house, “this is Red n 10k’s place” he quickly explained as he swung the door open. She would have never guessed what was in the house, she recognized a little girl Blend hugging an unknown boy blend, he looked only a year or two older than her, and the 2 things she was most surprised about was that Wesson and another lady blend were there. But when she looked closer she realized they were dead “w-what happened?” she asked 10k who was looking at the lady blend’s corpse “Bad Men, Bad Men took the blend’s” answered instead the little boy blend, Warren kneeled down to his level and asked “Honey, can you tell me what happened and your name?” in the calmest voice possible, the little boy nodded and handed her a cassette recorder, Murphy’s cassette recorder, “I’m Jacques, she’s Cassidy. The bad men got in Limbo, and started hurting the blends, Murphy told us to run, give Addy the brain, and get Roberta Warren” he mumbled and sat down on the floor. Warren didn’t even ask, but she pressed the play button on the cassette recorde, “*silence*” Warren looked towards the kid, but he held up a finger and said “shh”, so she looked back at the cassette player “WARREN THESE CRAZY DUDES STARTED TAKING OVER LIMBO, I’M SENDING WESSON, MELODY, AND SOME KIDS OVER THERE WITH SUN MEI’S BRAIN, BUT I THINK WESSON AND MELODY ARE HURT, HURRY UP BECAUSE I DON’T THINK THE BLENDS CAN HANDLE THIS!”. Chaos, that was sounded in the background of Murphy’s distressed voice, that and the screams of blends that Warren was so terrified to hear. Warren stood there shaking, “were Wesson and Melody already dead when they got here?” she asked 10k who looked a bit out of it, “nah, Wesson was mortally wounded and melody was already dead, Wesson got to the gate, passed out, and he died last night in his sleep” he answered, looking as if he was trying to shake something off him, Addy emerged from the kitchen holding a tray with multiple steaming mugs, looking quite pissed, “Ok first, why is it that every time we start to get some peace and quiet Murphy just fucking gets abducted by some rich people or weirdos, and second, who the hell is going to go get Murphy” she asked handing the two small kids a pair of mugs and then putting the tray on the floor, “And for your information, I ain’t going” she added sitting next to the little boy, Red and Doc were going to raise their hand but 10k quickly pulled them both down, Warren just shook her head and said “None of you are going to get Murphy, he sent for me, and I’m going to look for him” Cooper suddenly sat up from his seat “Why?!” he asked getting excessively close to Warrens face, Cassidy suddenly tried to pull his leg as if to move him, “No get close to Warren, wannabe cowboy!” she yelled in a very small voice to Cooper, Warren was a bit shocked that the little girl knew that word but then she remembered that she was around Murphy a lot, “I’m the only one that can find him, he was able to find me when I went missing” she explained, “They share body fluids you know, but not in a R rated way” added Doc from behind her. Warren would normally laugh at the joke, but this time she didn’t, not when Murphy was missing for so long. “only I’m going and that’s final!” she announced to the group. Everyone ,except Cooper, nodded.

[glitchstoxicwaste]

Can we get slashers with a small goth s/o mayhaps 👁👁

Slashers x small! goth! reader

I got asked this before but my dumb ass posted it instead of putting it in my drafts, so you, anon, are a LIFE SAVER!

I was excited to write about it too, so when I had to delete the post and the ask I was pissed at myself for being so damn dumb lmao!

So I apologize to whoever sent a post similar to this! I was going to write it but I did a dumb and had to delete it...

Slashers

Not proof read, slashers aren't linked to their specific masterlists, I'm too lazy lmao, sorry for any/all bad spelling and mistakes

TW: cursing (not new), G/N Reader, reader is the "stereotypical goth" in this but that doesn't mean all goths are like that! the word "Fleshlight" was used once, slightly suggestive, blood and death, reader threatened with knife. It gets weird-

Side note, in Michaels headcanons there is mention of him raising his knife to reader and reader yells "Do it", insinuating that he kill them, this is a running joke within my friend group, Something happened to me that my friends witnessed and I just yelled "then fucking Do it", since then my friends and I joke about it. The reader saying it is meant to show lack of fear, not the want to die.

Continue under the cut!

Michael Myers!

You’re… interesting.

You didn’t flinch or scream when he killed your friends.

Legit shocked him when he rose his knife to kill you and you just smiled and said “Do it!”… are you okay?

You like his outfit? It’s just a mask and coveralls… you think he’s… cool? He’s a Murderer!

Okay but like, really, you actually surprise him, a lot. You aren’t scared of him, you actually think his job and who he is as a person is awesome and he feels… pride for it.

Paint his nails black and he will demand you re-paint them when they chip when he’s working. Don’t judge him, you said it makes him look cooler and he took it to heart!

No you can’t dye his hair, and no he won’t do shit with yours. Go get it done yourself.

Will bring you something he thinks you’ll like from a victim.

If you get clothes that don't have holes and want holes, ask him, he will rip it a little and cut it a bit to help you out, if he nicks you a bit he will smirk under his mask.

If you wear lipstick and you leave kiss marks on his scar over his eye he will become vulnerable around you more often.

Loves when you sass others, but not when you sass him.

You being tiny means he can tower over you more, but if he doesn't intimidate you then pretend, he knows you're faking, but appreciates the thought.

will have you sit on one of his legs, just to show how small you are compared to him.

Wraps one arm around you when sleeping, he doesn't move much at night.

Will happily get any white clothes you have bloody if you like the look of blood splatter.

Will go out into public with you at night, he can't be seen as well, and you enjoy it, its spooky, hell yeah.

Adores when you decorate outside for Halloween, you go all out, he loves you so fucking much for that.

Jason Voorhees!

He almost didn't see you sitting on the doc, but the flicker of candle light caught his attention.

He saw you just sitting there, a candle burning next to you, thankfully you had an ash tray under it so the wax wouldn't get into the water.

He was gonna kill you until he saw Pamela turn to him and put a finger up to her mouth, telling him to be quiet, she then motioned him to stand next to her behind the tree she was at.

He was confused, until he heard you talk, you were talking to the water, what you said made them both emotional.

"Jason Voorhees, I know what they did to you, the counselors and other kids that were here when you died. You didn't deserve it, you were, and still are, innocent. Just because you weren't "Normal" didn't give them a right to end your life. I apologize on their behalf, may you rest in peace."

The way you said the word "Normal" was in a mocking tone, altering your voice to make it sound weird and distorted.

Ever since then Pamela had you both meet, and soon, you were a couple.

You being goth doesn't bother them, are you hurting anyone? No, are you a demon? -sadly- no, are you minding your own damn business and being true to who you are? Yes!

But Jason does worry over your size, you're so much smaller than him, well, everyone is, but you're smaller than Pamela! You're bound to get hurt!

Y/N! Get back in the cabin! You aren't safe outside!

When you all heard that some old counselors and kids from when he was alive came back to the camp, you stepped right up and went to give them a piece of your damn mind!

Jason was against it but Pamela wanted to know what you were gonna do.

When you told them all of Jason was seconds away from crying, but then you got grabbed by one of the bigger guys.

Lets just say he wont be making kids ever again, and Jason and Pamela didn't even leave the cabin to help you yet!

Proud is what they are!

You're tiny but bad ass!

Pamela will paint your nails for you, if you have other colors she would love if you painted her nails a bright color, and Jason would like both black and bright colors, he's a happy boy.

If you wear lipstick and kiss Jason's face when he doesn't have on the mask, the second his mom sees the kiss marks and Jason tells her of all the sweet things you said in between kisses, she is determined to get you both rings.

Loves holding you, you will sit on his non dominant arm, hands on his chest, knees closed and pressed into his lower ribs a little, as his dominant hand swings beside him with his hatchet.

If you don't mind the murders, don't mind the blood splatter on you, or hearing the gruesome details, then he is holding you on his forearm as he kills, feeding your interest in his "work"

He loves when you lay on him when you sleep, you're so small you fit perfectly on his form, and seeing you so relaxed fills him with pride because only he can see this side of you.

Norman Bates!

At first he thought you were a demon coming to take him to hell for the sins mother forced him to commit.

You need to tell him about the Gothic community.

Mother does not approve at. all.

He loves the height difference, your small figure engulfed in his whenever he stands in front of or behind you, his heart skips a beat.

If a customer is being a bitch, and you sass them back, his face gets red hot.

He can't fix your hair for you, but he will make you a hair appointment with the best hair dresser in town.

kiss his cheek if you wear lipstick, leave a mark, and he will get "Uncomfortable" in his jeans. -wink wink-

loves holding your hands, they fit in his perfectly, his heart can't take it.

He is big time in love with you, you take on a domestic role and he can't help but fall so hard in love that he may just marry you now.

Is glad you don't force the house or the motel to have a more "Gothic" look to it, even around Halloween you don't over do it because you know it'll make him uncomfortable.

He isn't comfortable with you painting his nails, mother told him that boys don't do that, you can, you can wear makeup and all that if you want to, he just doesn't wanna do it himself.

He tells you about what mother made him do to other people at the motel, he cries when you accept him for who he is.

Purely the big spoon, loves holding you against him.

Brahms Heelshire!

Skeptical at first, but even more interested at the same time.

Decides he wants to watch you longer than he did with the failed nanny's.

The sass you gave Malcom when he INSISTED he help you and you leave the house made Brahms trust you more.

When he showed himself to you, he was shocked at the disappointed face you made, did you not like him?

When you tell him you were excited about living in a huge haunted house by yourself, he stares at you, completely perplexed, all the other nanny's got scared at the thought of his Ghost Child self, and even more terrified when he emerges from the walls, but you were disappointed he wasn't a ghost...

When you sass him for the first time is when he's throwing a tantrum.

He stops the child act within a few weeks, and learns its much more rewarding.

If you kiss his mask and you have on lipstick, if it leaves a mark, he will remove the mask and kiss you.

The mask won't get washed, the kiss mark is smudged and gross now but he loves it still.

Demands he gets his nails painted with you, but then ruins it from impatience.

Loves to pick you up and carry you around, he's strong and 6'3, you're tiny as fuck, perfect!

Worries about you when you go to climb the counters in order to get to the top shelves, just call him next time and he will get it for you, just kiss him in return.

Billy Lenz!

It's not super new to him, goths that is, he's moved from attic to attic and has seen a fair share of things, but your height is new to him.

It shocked him when he called the phone and you were sassy as hell towards him.

Does he like you, little Piggy? No, he's obsessed!

Dude shows himself sooner than he has in the past, escaping the attic and sneaking into your room when he thinks you're sleeping.

Y'all started dating when you were up late still removing everything you were wearing and he suddenly came into your room.

He loves standing full height next to you when you don't have on shoes, you're tiny, his tiny little Piggy.

Paint his nails and he will ruin it by being in the attic, or because he will peel the paint off his nails before or directly after they are fully dry.

If you have hair and it's dyed, he will play with it a lot.

Will try to re-dye your hair for you, but will make a large mess on accident.

Tries on your accessories when you aren't home, he's skinny enough to wear some of the bracelets, but got a ring stuck on his finger, you had to got to the hospital and have it removed with a saw.

Kiss him if you wear lipstick, please, he will be happy to have the mark on his yellow skin.

loves playing with your tiny fingers, they're so freaking cute!

Loves being big spoon, he can wrap himself around you and hold you flesh against him, it's like holding a teddy bear to him!

If he's little spoon he will be scared to sleep, the fear of crushing you and killing you swarming his thoughts.

But at the same time, feeling your face pressed against his back because you can't reach his shoulder makes him laugh a little, so tiny!

Thomas Hewitt!

How the fuck are you not dead just by the heat of Texas?!

Boy worries about you 24/7!

You wear so much black in the heat of Texas he's scared you'll have a heatstroke.

Calm him down when he fusses by putting your tiny hand on his, look up at him, and smile. His heart will squeeze at the reminder of your major height difference.

Loves holding your hand, its so small, it barely fills his palm.

If you wear makeup and you kiss his scarred face he will flush red and when he looks at you and sees the genuine love in your eyes he wanted to cry from the joy.

Luda Mae was weary about you at first, she's witnessed goths berating others and causing pain before.

But when she comes back to the house from having to help Hoyt with an emergency, and she sees you cleaning the house for her, her opinion starts to change about you, maybe you aren't so bad.

But then, when it was just you and Thomas at home for the day, she walked through the door to see you laying on your back, Thomas' head on your stomach, large arms wrapped protectively around you as you played with his hair, him fast asleep as you both engulfed the couch, her mind was set, you and Thomas were meant to be.

Hoyt gives you a hard time about you being tiny, saying you can't do anything for the benefit of the family, just sass his ass back and clean up the house to shut him up.

Luda Mae will paint your nails for you.

Thomas and Luda Mae will take care of your hair for you.

Make Thomas a new leather mask! It'll mean the world to him!

Bo Sinclair!

When he first saw you was when you came to the Gas Station, he looked up at you, your hip popped out to the side, a hand on said hip, other arm dangling on your other side, one knee bent slightly yes guys do this pose too, I've seen it many times-, he was smitten.

Star struck, never had he felt this before, legit was in love.

Ever since then you both have been together, you couldn't care any less about your friends being dead.

Dude loves the sassy attitude when you get pissed, especially when handling the other visitors and their just making you more agitated by the second, the sass is legit sexy af.

You're style is different from his, he loves it a lot, but will never admit it.

Thinks about how his parents wouldn't approve of the relationship, he couldn't care less.

If you put him in his place when he's cranky or drunk he will try to cool off before coming back home, boy don't wanna have a spiked boot chucked at him again.

He's relentless with the teasing about your height, just remind him that the smaller you are the better you can deal major damage to his package.

Don't even attempt to paint his nails, he will throw the nail polish across the house and break it, then have you clean it even if you can't reach.

Is soft for you.

Massage his scalp when he takes off his hat before bed and the man will pass the fuck out.

Gently touch his wrists and show his scars some soft love and he will show genuine vulnerability around you.

If you ever get hurt for any reason he will never forgive himself, will legit be more kind and affectionate towards you.

Doesn't take you for granted, you aren't an object, yes you're as small as one, but you aren't a walking fleshlight, you're his partner, his s/o.

Easily jealous when other people talk to you, give him cuddles later on and all will be forgotten.

Vincent Sinclair!

Art, you are art.

When you were put in his art room by Bo he legit bandaged your wound and ran to tell Bo that you aren't being made into a wax figure.

Bo was fuming 'cause he worked HARD on getting you where you are now, the struggle was REAL for once, you managed to kick his "testosterone storage unit" with your spiked leather shoes!

Man had to take a few minutes to calm the ache in his groin. Even now, hours later, his voice is still a little squeaky from the impact.

Vin lets you free, and tries his hardest to get the glue off your lips without hurting you and fixes your clothes.

When you stand up without your shoes on for the first time he is in awe, hoe can someone so tiny be so fierce? Are you the embodiment of a chihuahua? A Pomeranian?

Won't let you paint his nails that often, unless its when there hasn't been people coming to Ambrose for a few days and wont ruin the polish or get chips of the polish in the wax.

If you wear lipstick, put on your tall boots, and kiss the lips of the mask leaving behind lipstick markings he will become the most flustered person on the planet, boy covers the mask face with his hands and stands there for a while.

If you have hair he will take care of it, re-dying it if its dyed, trimming it when it gets too long, trimming off the split ends for you, trimming your bangs out of your eyes, styling it for you, you just gotta ask and he's on it in .02 seconds.

Take care of his hair for him and he will get so fucking flustered instantly.

Stick up for him when Bo is being a douche, Vin will try not to laugh due to the height difference, but he appreciates the effort anyway.

Watches you do your makeup if you wear any, will put a cool design on your face with eyeliner if you ask.

Makes you new jewelry with whatever he finds around Ambrose, you're one of a kind to him, you deserve one of a kind, hand crafted, meaningful things.

If you have piercings he will make you new ones because then they will be as unique as you are! But you should clean them before putting them in...

If Bo get's too out of hand with his angry rants and Vin can sense that Bo actually got to you, whether it be verbally or physically, then Vin will get ANGRY.

Stands up full height, fists clenched, and glares at Bo with a look resembling what their father used to do to Bo to get him to shut up and behave.

Vin will draw you a lot, your style is amazing to him and he admires the bravery you show when you aren't afraid to be yourself.

Lester Sinclair!

Woah, you're so cool!

When you first saw you he was stunned, he never saw someone as cool as you before!

When you're sassy to Bo it's hard for Les to contain his laughter, both because you're so much smaller than the three brothers are, and because you out sass Bo.

When you looked up at him and smiled, showing him genuine kindness and affection, his heart went fucking doki-doki -note to self, never say "doki-doki" again- I swear!

You have him wrapped around your finger.

Dude makes you jewelry out of bones he finds, and ones he liked the most out of his collection

Will let you help him with collecting roadkill and is stunned at how you haven't passed out from the heat, or complained about it, although you're wearing more black than anything else.

If you wear lipstick and cover his face with kisses while it's fresh, leaving clear kiss marks, he will saunter around Ambrose, flaunting to Bo and the visitors that YOU chose HIM out of everyone else.

Seeing you and Jonesy playing makes him happy, both his S/O and his puppy like each other! He's gonna die a happy man!

If you buy, or even better, MAKE Jonesy a new collar that has black leather and small, dull, spikes around it with a tag that says "Lester and Y/N's Hell-Hound" he will squeal like a fangirl.

He will let you pain his nails, but he can't stop using his hands for things and thus the still drying polish will have lines and sometimes gets removed by him being a busy body 24/7. Be patient with him with this please-

When you show Bo major sass, it makes Les puff his chest up with pride, in his mind he's like: "That's right Bo! That's Mah S/O! Ya just put yer tail 'tween yer legs an' run off!"

Vincent and Lester appreciat e when you stick up for them too, but at the same time when both you and Bo are just arguing and mouthing off to one another it makes them uncomfortable, but hot dayum does it make Lester feel loved!

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

Shut Me Up

A/N: Here’s another smutty one-shot. I felt like something a little cliche so here it is. This was so fun to write! I’m still finding my footing in this fandom as a writer but I think I wanna start taking requests, the next fic I have coming out will be a request and I’m having fun with it so shoot me a message if there’s something you wanna see. I’ve just put together my Masterlist so you can check out my other fics there :)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N don’t exactly get on well. Will they be able to work out some of their frustration when they’re forced to share a room for the night?

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, name calling, light choking, hair pulling, scratching, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3850 words

The hotel is somehow worse than usual. It’s got so few rooms that they just narrowly grab enough for the whole team. But few enough that they have to bunk. Y/N didn't love sharing a room but it was better than having nowhere to sleep at all.

Prentiss tosses her a key, “That’s you and Reid” she says it so nonchalant that Y/N almost doesn’t notice it. Once in clicks in her head though she races down the hall.

“Hey, hey wait!” She calls out, a little too desperate, “Emily you can’t put me with Reid. We’ll kill each other.”

She laughs at that, it was on open secret amongst the team that Y/N and Spencer had something of a rivalry going. Bitter sworn enemies apparently. No one really bought it though. People who really truly hated each other would be a lot better at avoiding one another. But Y/N and Spencer could never seem to keep apart for very long.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to put your differences aside for a night.” she waves Y/N off as she heads into her own room, leaving her stranded in the hallway. Contemplating if the reception area might let her crash on the couch, she could even spend the night in one of the SUVs, the seats reclined far enough.

But that was stupid, why should she be the one who had to be uncomfortable, why not Spencer.

When she arrived at the door of her own room Spencer was slumped up against it, he stood up straight once he saw her coming.

“Took you long enough” he spat, reaching to take the key from her but she pulled it back before he had the chance.

“I was on the hunt for alternative sleeping arrangements” she huffs, unlocking the door.

“To no avail I presume?” he jokes but he’s just met with an eye roll.

“I’m taking the bed by the window” she stakes her claim before they even get through the door. Once they’re inside he lets out a chuckle.

“You’re welcome to the side of the bed by the window?” he jokes.

This was infinitely worse than she thought it was going to be. Where there were usually two generally uncomfortable twin beds in these standard small-town motels, instead there was a queen sized bed, staring at them as they stood at the foot of it.

“I get the bed” she says like she’s calling shotgun.

“Bullshit you get the bed, there’s nowhere else to sleep!” he complains.

She takes a second to scan the room, no sofa, no arm chair, the floor is a scratchy carpet. There’s no real option here. “You can sleep on the desk?” she suggests, and she’s not serious about it, but she wouldn’t say no if he agreed.

“Are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.

“Soft mattresses are bad for your back! Maybe it’ll sort out your posture?” she adds.

“There’s nothing wrong with my posture” he groans, massaging his temple.

“Okay sure, you tell yourself that”

They don’t say anything more about it as they unpack. Showering and changing for bed in silence. When Y/N comes out from he bathroom, Spencer is sitting up on one side of the bed, reading through case files by the light of the bedside lamp.

“Are you serious?” she whines.

“Look, we both need rest, just shut up and get over yourself” he says it without looking up from the file in his hand, his finger running over the lines at speed.

She doesn’t respond, she just climbs in on the other side, keeping herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep the distance in between them.

She lies like that for about 45 minutes but sleep’s just not coming.

“Are you ever gonna turn off that fucking light, I thought we ‘needed rest’” she mocks, turning over to look at him, still combing through the files, mumbling to himself every once in a while.

“We’ll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get any sleep” she tries to convince him with a slightly more sincere tone.

This case wasn’t easy, the unsub had been abducting victims he’d met in online BDSM chatrooms. Bodies had been turning up murdered in ways that the victims had previously expressed were turn-ons. Suffocated, whipped, tied up in peculiar ways. There wasn’t much information to go on now, they just had to wait for the next body to turn up but that didn’t keep Spencer from pouring over everything a hundred times.

When he wasn’t being purposefully irritating Y/N honestly admired his work ethic. Just not when it was interfering with her much needed sleep.

“The bare minimum of sleep most humans need to live is just 4 hours in a 24 hour period” he blurts out, still not looking up.

“Well I’m not most humans, so knock it off”

He finally concedes, chucking his files onto the bedside table and shutting off the lamp. It’s now eerily quiet, and all she can hear is the steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.

Enough time passes that she really should be asleep but it’s still not happening. So she’s already beyond irritated when she feels a slight shove against her shoulder.

“Hey, you still awake?” he sounds mischievous, she knows that tone of his voice and she doesn't like it.

“God! I am now! What do you want?” she mumbles into her pillow.

“I’ve just got a question” he says defensively.

She hums and rolls over to face him, he’s wide awake, “Well? Out with it” she encourages, the sooner this is over with the better.

His mouth twists into a smirk as he takes a minute to study her face, “What turns you on?” he asks it sincere, and she has no idea what to do with that.

Rolling her eyes on instinct she groans, “Ugh, are you serious? I was so close to getting to sleep, goodnight asshole.” she turns back around to end the conversation but he can’t leave it there.

“I’m serious actually, just all the talk about it earlier, I wanna know”

She doesn’t move as she speaks, remaining with her back to him in a bid not to engage, “You couldn’t handle that information.” She deadpans.

“Try me” he antagonizes, and that’s enough to set her off. He just didn’t know when to quit.

This could be a fun new way to tease him, is her first thought. Turn him on, leave him wanting, yet another game to add to their repertoire of spite.

“Fine I’ll give.” she turns back to him, staring intently this time, “Here’s one, I really get off on having my hair pulled” she scoots closer so she can lean in and whisper the next part, “like when I’m getting fucked from behind, or I’ve got someone’s cock down my throat. I love having my hair pulled, just the short sharp pain of it.” she sort of moans the last little bit right by his ear before settling back on her own pillow.

“That good enough?” she asks, and she can practically see his breath catch in his chest.

He takes a steady gulp, “Yeah, that was, informative” he breathes.

“And what about you?” she poses, he’s not getting out of this one so easy. He looks shocked, like he didn’t see this coming a mile off.

“Me? Uh—” he stutters, “My back, I get really— I get turned on when someone digs their nails into my back, like scratching and marking” something about seeing him flustered like this is almost endearing.

“I guess we’re both suckers for pain” she winks as she says it, making a move to turn around again in a bid to let the conversation die but he doesn’t give her the chance.

“Tell me another” he pleads, and she’s not sure what his expression means but she might just draw this out, see how far she can can tease this.

“Hmm, nosy aren't we?” she smirks, he doesn't respond, just waits for an answer. She thinks for a moment, “Have you ever choked anyone Dr. Reid?”

His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. She likes this new Spencer, the one that doesn’t seem to have some quip for her every two seconds.

“Well I think you might like it, you’ve got nice strong hands, long fingers too. I feel like they might make it the whole way round my neck if you tried?” her voice is soft like velvet as she speaks. He lets out a short pant, and she can see his eyes flicker down to her exposed throat before quickly coming back to her eyes.

“Does the idea of that turn you on Doc?” she teases.

“I— um—” he’s at a loss for words yet again.

“That’s not an answer now is it?” She taunts him, and moves to turn around once again. Feeling accomplished in her goal, finally about to get some sleep. But she’s barely closed her eyes when she can feel him move. He’s so close behind her that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand slowly reaches around and grasps her throat gently, she moves herself further into his grip on instinct and he runs with it. Using the leverage to pull himself right up behind her, and she can feel it. He’s hard, and she can feel him pushing himself right up against her ass.

“Is this a satisfactory answer?” he moves in close and whispers against her ear. She’s changed her mind, maybe this is her favorite Spencer.

“Mmhmm” she hums in response, and his fingers tighten around her neck. She pushes her ass further back, moving it up and down slightly to create some friction and she can feel him twitching through the thin layer of her nightdress. He starts to move with her, grinding against her, his other hand resting on her hip, fingertips digging in so that he can pull her closer.

She tries to moan when she feels his nails dig into her but it gets stifled in her throat.

“You sound pathetic” he whispers, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re whining like a little slut” her hips buck involuntarily at that. “You like it when I call you names?” he teases.

The hand on her hip starts to pull at her nightdress, inching it up higher and higher until his fingers are on her bare skin. He digs his nails in just slightly and drags them around her thigh, letting them settle right at the hem of her panties.

“I bet if I put my fingers in here I’d find you soaking wet for me already?” When she doesn’t answer he tightens the hand around her throat so that it’s almost cutting off the air supply, then loosens immediately. “Answer me” he demands.

“Yes! Yes!” she moans, anything to get his hands to move where she wanted them.

“That’s what I thought” he laughs and lets go of her completely. Her dress hiked up, breathing ragged. She snaps back around to look at him and he’s already curled up on his side of the bed as though nothing’s happened. Left in shock she sits upright, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What the fuck was that?” she has to stop herself from outright shouting at him.

He turns back to look at her, taking in her sullen expression, “Disappointed are we?” he teases with a smirk. And that look makes her want to kill him.

“You’re such a dick” she huffs, and he sits upright next to her.

“You say that like I didn’t just beat you at your own game?” he tries to fight back.

“You didn’t beat me!” she protests

“Oh really, and how’s that?”

“I could feel you, you were rock hard before you even touched me” she spits it out, because if she turned him on first then somehow this didn’t feel as embarrassing.

“Yeah! Because you were teasing me!” he looks frustrated now,

“Exactly! Because I was teasing you, and you fucking liked it” he just rolls his eyes at that, pretending like it’s somehow not true.

“Shut the fuck up” he groans, running his hands through his hair and letting his head fall back against the headboard.

She quirks an eyebrow and looks straight into his sleepy eyes, “Make me.”

In less than a second his hands are on her again, grabbing and pulling her into his lap. One hand is firmly on her back, holding her tight against his chest, the other is tangled in her hair already. Grabbing fistfuls as their lips work against each other.

It’s heated, and ferocious, full of pent up aggression, or tension, or both.

As his tongue works against hers, she lets her own hands wander over him, finally coming to rest at the back of his head, tangling in his curls. When she grinds down into his lap she can feel his cock still hard beneath her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. She thought it was impossible but it felt harder than it had been earlier.

He breaks apart the kiss and they both take in wrecked breaths, chests heaving. He pulls at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it further up her thighs, grabbing a rough handful of her ass as his hands find the exposed skin there.

“We gotta get this off” he whispers, and she nods, pulling it off over her head so that she’s exposed now. Perched in his lap in nothing but her panties. “Fuck” he moans at the sight. His hands come straight up to grab her tits, rough and exited for a moment before easing up, kneading them, getting used to the weight of them in his hands. He brings his mouth down, leaning in so that he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses along her neck and collar bones, trailing down to the valley between her breasts. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it gently then teasing the bud with his teeth. When he releases it and looks up at her his eyes almost look glazed over, dreamy.

“I’ve always had a thing for your tits” he confesses, his lips coming down to repeat the action on the other nipple.

“Your turn to take your shirt off” she whines as he removes his lips, the cold air hardening her nipples now that he’d teased them. He drags his eyes away from her for a second so that he can peel his shirt off over his head.

On pure instinct she rakes her nails across his now bare chest, leaning in close to place kisses into the crook of his neck, moving up painfully slow, kissing along the column of his throat, landing on the soft skin beneath his ear. She can feel the moans rippling in his throat against her lips. While he’s stilled beneath her she takes the opportunity to tuck her hands in behind him, digging her nails into his back and dragging them across the skin with force. Certainly leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The noises that escape him might be the best thing she’s ever heard.

“You like it when I mark you up?” she moans into his ear, “When I make you mine?” she can feel wetness pooling between her own legs as she says the words. The very thought of it turning her on more than she ever thought it could.

Clearly he feels the same, something erupts in him and the hands that had been resting on her hips were now lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. He was on top of her now, his hair framing his face as he looked down at her, and she was biting her fucking lip in anticipation.

He almost can’t even look directly at her so he snakes down her body, littering her torso with kisses and licks. Once he lands at her hips he takes the elastic of her panties between his teeth, pulling it up and letting it go so that it snaps against her stomach. She lets out a low moan.

“Let’s see if I was right earlier, how wet are you for me?” his voice is low as he places small kisses over the cotton, making his way right in between her legs. He pulls back for a second to inspect the fabric, there’s a damp patch covering the majority of the area, as if he didn't know already. “You’re fucking soaked Y/N” he groans and presses his fingers right up against it, forcing the fabric between her folds so that it soaks up even more, “Such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

She can only let out a small whine in response, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she was afraid she might start bleeding.

“Better get rid of these, don’t you think?” he hooks his fingers into either side of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He takes them and places them on his pillow before returning to his position between her legs.

He’s slow and deliberate in his actions, teasing painfully as he places sloppy kisses on the delicate skin inside of her thighs. Stopping right at the top to nip and suck enough to leave a bruise. Taking the time to stop and leave a matching bruise on the other thigh.

She was starting to grow restless, she felt like she was literally aching for any stimulation at all.

“Spencer” she whines, “Please, I’m so fucking turned on already”. She can feel him chuckle, his exhale sends a burst of cold air right against her pussy.

“So impatient” he chastises, but gives in anyway. Laying his tongue flat against her, taking a moment to taste her before he starts to move. Licking deft strokes along her folds, alternating with sucking softly on her clit.

“Spencer, fuck, oh my god” is all she can muster as her back arches up off the bed, her hips squirming as he pins them down. “You feel so fucking good”

He takes the encouragement and brings a finger to her entrance, pushing it in at an agonizing pace, curling it upwards against her once it’s fully inside. “You’re so fucking tight Y/N, do you think you could even handle another finger?” he has to take his mouth off of her to speak but it’s worth it for the downright filthy sounds she makes in response. He takes that as a yes and slowly pushes two fingers in this time. Bringing his lips back down to wrap around her clit and suck.

Her hands fly down to his curls as he works his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. She grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls them harshly, not knowing where else to put the energy. “Fuck Spencer, feels so good, don’t stop” she mutters between gasps.

He continues his ministrations and he would be lying if he said the feeling of her hands pulling at his hair weren’t doing something for him.

A moment later and she’s barely able to control her movements, thrashing in the bed as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her, relishing the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Once she’s relaxed again he takes his fingers out, bringing them up to her lips, without telling her to she opens her mouth, taking the two fingers in, letting her tongue move around them to taste herself.

It’s one of the many memories from tonight he knows he wont forget anytime soon. Or ever.

“I can see why you like it” he says, leaning over her, talking into the crook of her neck, “having your hair pulled, feels fucking amazing” she lets out a weak laugh, regaining her strength.

“Told you you liked pain” she reaches down between them, grabbing his cock through his boxers, “You must’ve really liked it” she teases, squeezing as his eyes flutter shut and he nods.

He maneuvers a little so that he can take off his boxers, and finally she gets to see it. It’s perfect, bigger than she expected, it looks painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. He moves back to hover over her, lingering for a minute to take her in. She thinks there might be something almost sweet behind his expression.

“Just fuck me already” she smirks up at him and he rolls his eyes without even meaning to.

“Will you ever stop antagonizing me?”

“If you fuck me maybe?”

With that he leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue as it tangles with hers. She can feel him push up against her, the head of his cock just teasing at her entrance before sinking in so slowly she was almost angry.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me” he’s whispering right into her hear and she can barely string together a sentence.

“Spencer, you’re so big, fill me up so good with your fingers, with your cock, fuck” as he starts to move they both start to lose it, her hands digging into his back, her nails sinking into his shoulders leaving small half-moons in his skin. He finally starts to build a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, filling the room with the pornographic sounds of skin on skin, coupled with their moans.

Once she can feel the familiar feeling building within her again she starts to lose control completely, her nails scratching marks into the expanse of Spencer’s back, hearing the little breathy gasps he lets out each time she does might be enough to make her cum all on their own.

“I’m close” she mewls, letting her head fall back against the pillow, exposing her neck, eyes screwing shut.

“Fuck, me too” he takes the opportunity presented to him, and wraps one of his hands around her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Ahh, fuck” she breathes out with the little air that she has, “gonna cum” and she does, he can feel her tighten around his cock, her body writhing beneath his and arching up off he bed as he continues to fuck into her.

He’s following behind just a second later, spilling into her as he collapses back down, releasing his grip on her throat completely and settling on her chest.

They both take a moment. Melting into one another, steading out their breathing.

It’s Y/N who breaks the silence, “So you’ve always had a thing for my tits then?”

He cranes his neck up to look at her, “Shut up” he breathes, laying his head back down on her chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down.

“Now you know how to make me.”

Masterlist

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter five: do we look like recruiters to you?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.7K

notes:  thank you all so much for rolling with the changes to my posting schedule. it’s been a while since i posted an update and i really wanted to give you guys a chapter. plus it makes more sense, in my mind to break it out like this.  in this chapter, you’ll notice that ko starts calling OC “jagiya.” thank you to the korean reader who brought to my attention that my previous nickname for her didn’t fit as well as this one! 

anyway, you guys make me endlessly happy with your feedback on this story. i’d love to hear what you think of this chapter.  beta read by @hobi-gif​ because i would wither away without her analysis. also beta’d by the awesome @btsarmy9593​ who has been so awesome to give me her feedback. thank you to @augustbutwinter​ for the words of encouragement. and of course, the boos @ladyartemesia​ and @untaemedqueen​ pitched in to help me in this journey as well.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*************************

Min Yoongi wakes up with a problem.  Well a few problems, actually.

The first is that he has to pee.

The second is the head-to-toe pain that starts to register the moment his sluggish brain kicks into gear.  He starts from the bottom -- gingerly wiggling his toes, carefully stretching his legs -- and slowly works his way up, taking mental inventory of what hurts and what doesn’t.

A lot of shit is landing on the hurts list right now.

The third problem -- and perhaps the most pressing -- is the problem pressing into his side right now.

Your hair is still damp.

Yoongi noses into it and lies in the quiet for a while, breathing you in while you sleep.  You smell like his shampoo and his soap.  You’re wearing his t-shirt and basketball shorts.  You are covered in him; fitted to him.  Solid and warm and real.

Which brings him to his next problem.  

This is the kind of feeling that’s way too easy to become addicted to.  The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit.  Take away the mangled body and the looming safety concerns and this is easily the best morning of his life.

That’s why when you stir and burrow a bit deeper into his side, Yoongi ignores the pain radiating from his sore ribs.  He ignores the way his arm has fallen asleep under you, ignores the intermittent buzzing of his phone from the nightstand warning of missed texts.

He ignores the tiny voice in his head that says don’t get attached to this feeling.

Yoongi ignores everything but you and this because right now, it’s the only thing he wants to think about.

And then he’s drifting off again.

***************************

This time, Yoongi wakes up alone.

The deep steadying breath he takes while he’s trying to work up the nerve to get out of bed hurts like hell.

Everything hurts like hell, actually -- the back of his head where he can feel scrapes left behind by the brick wall, his jaw from where he took that driller to the face.  His knee from where he jammed it into that fucking goon’s stomach.  

But his shoulder is what’s really fucking everything up right now.

He can’t remember telling you where to find the sling or how you got it on.  Can’t remember you positioning his pillows around his injured arm or slipping into bed beside him.  He’d been so fucked up by the pain and the adrenaline withdrawal that he’s pretty sure he blacked out at some point.  

So Yoongi lies there for a minute, trying to piece together what he can remember of last night.  

The memories come back to him blurred and disjointed, out of order.

He remembers feeling like he might vomit when you shoved his shoulder back into place.  Awkwardly accepting your help taking off his jeans so he could shower.  Nearly falling to his knees under the hot water.  Pulling himself together long enough to stash his gun in a drawer when you’d stepped away.

And it’s that last memory that makes his chest go tight.

Last night, hiding his gun seemed like the right thing to do.  A way to keep you separate from the ugliness he normalized a long time ago.  But this morning the half-assed lie of omission makes him feel guilty as hell.  A pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.  Chewing gum jammed into the crack of a dam.

He has to tell you about that gun.

So he gets to work on dragging his ass out of bed.  It takes him way too damned long to sit upright, way too damned long to slide himself off the edge of the mattress.  Longer than that to slowly limp his way into the bathroom where he pees for what feels like a solid ten minutes.

He’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spots the bright red toothbrush sitting in the cup on his sink.  

It’s just some cheap throwaway he brought home after his last visit to the dentist -- a long-forgotten backup that’s been stashed in the cabinet under the bathroom counter for months.  But now it’s sitting out in the open, in that cup. Right next to his own blue one.

Yoongi stares at it and scrubs a hand over his face.

And that tiny voice in his head gets a bit louder.

************************

He finds you seated at his piano, bare-faced and hair tousled.  Fingers tracing light patterns across the keys of his custom instrument, gaze taking in all of the tiny details he paid a small fortune for.

He could have stayed there for a while, just appreciating the view had you not caught him staring.

Your dark eyes flick up to find his and Yoongi’s pulse quickens at the warmth in them.  At the soft, shy smile that comes over you just before you clear your throat and lower your eyes back to the keys.

“Beautiful,” you sigh.  

No kidding, Yoongi thinks.

He crosses the room slowly.  Tries his hardest not to limp but the throb in his knee makes that nearly impossible.  Sadness flashes across your face as you watch him sink heavily onto the bench beside you.  

���I can help you, you know,” you admonish softly.

Yoongi shrugs, motioning to the sling.  “You already have.”

He stills when you reach one hand out to brush your fingertips across the redness on his jaw.  You stroke your thumb across his aching cheek and Yoongi leans into the touch, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, “I’m so sorry you’re hurt, and -- ” you pause to shake your head sadly,  “-- and I’m so sorry it’s because I put you in this position.”

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath.

He can’t bring himself to tell you that he can’t think straight when he imagines what could have happened if that fucking goon had gotten you alone.  Can’t bring himself to admit out loud that he could have pulled his gun and ended that piece of shit without losing a second of sleep.  

Would have, had you not been there.

“Better me than you, Doc,” he says thickly.  “You made the right call.”

You press a gentle kiss to his throbbing jaw.

“You still mad at me?”

You whisper the words into the shell of Yoongi’s ear and a slow heat builds in his gut.  

“Yeah,” he lies, dropping a kiss on the delicate skin below your jaw.  He ghosts the tip of his nose against the curve of your neck and you shudder under his touch. He’s forced to check himself, leaning back for a few inches of badly-needed space.  

On the bright side, at least his dick isn’t broken, too.

He clears his throat.  “If that guy had brought backup -- ”

“ -- If that guy had brought backup, he’d have been out of the car long before you left his buddy in a pile on the floor,” you interrupt gently.

Yoongi chuckles.  “Just admit you’re terrible at following directions.”

“You happen to have your MRI results around here anywhere? I’d be interested to see what they say about that shoulder.”  

You raise one brow when Yoongi narrows his eyes at you in response.  “No? Well, then I guess I’m not the only one who’s bad at following directions.”

“Guess not,” Yoongi admits with a smile.  

Your turn your attention back to his piano, touch reverent as you slide one hand across the rich black lacquer.  

“When you first walked in, I was going to say something really dumb like do you play?” you admit with a laugh.  “But no one owns something this magnificent unless they have a passion for it.”

“Yeah, I play,” Yoongi murmurs.  “When I have two functioning arms.”

He’d intended to earn a laugh with that tease, but the joke falls flat.  Sadness creeps back into your features.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, gaze dropping into your lap.  “I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me last night without you.  And all I can think about this morning is why?  Why did you do this for me?”

Fuck, that’s a loaded question.  

If Yoongi had the balls, he’d tell you straight up that he fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you at Songdo .  That you feel like his chance at something more.  But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that.  

Instead, he coughs up a weak white lie.

“We’re both out here flying solo Doc.  We have to look out for each other.  Besides -- ” he tips your chin up with a gentle press of his fingers and finds your dark eyes glassy with unshed tears.  “ -- I have a thing for that smart mouth of yours.”

He earns a tiny smile from you then, just the slightest curve of your lips.  And he’s this close to kissing the soft, sad expression right off your face when that voice in his mind fucks everything up again.

Tell her about the gun.  

The thought is like a bucket of cold water over his head, jarring him from the intimacy of this moment.  Yoongi swallows thickly before opening his mouth to tell you the truth.  But before he can speak, you do.

“I have something of yours,” you say, reaching into the pocket of your borrowed basketball shorts.  Yoongi watches you produce a worn handmade bracelet and holds his palm open to accept it.  “It fell out of your jacket last night,” you explain.

He rubs his thumb over the smooth metal corners of the cross that dangles from aged leather.  It brings back the memory of his baptism -- of the day Mrs. Bak proudly gifted it to him while he was still damp from the ceremony.  It also brings back the memory of last night -- when he’d clutched it between his fingers and sent a silent plea for protection skyward.

It’s been a long time since he’s prayed.  It’s been a long time since he had anything to pray for.

“Are you religious?” you ask softly.

Yoongi shakes his head.  “Honestly? I don’t know.”  A self-conscious heat creeps up his neck.  “Just makes me feel better, I guess.  Is that dumb?”

“No,” you reassure quietly, bringing one warm hand up to cup his cheek.  Yoongi covers your hand with his, laces his fingers in between yours.  “Not dumb at all.”

Tell her about the gun.

“Doc,” Yoongi whispers thickly, “We need to talk about something.”

Your hand falls away from his face and your spine goes stiff with tension and Yoongi almost loses his nerve.

Almost.

“Okay, so I was, uh -- carrying a gun last night,” he starts, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck,  “I carry a gun all the time, actually.  I hid it because I didn’t want to freak you out.”

You say nothing, expression unreadable.  And Yoongi keeps talking.

“But I don’t want to keep things from you,” he says quietly.  “I want you to know exactly who I am. No half-truths.”

Your eyes drop back down to the piano.  You pluck at one of the keys and a somber note rings out, lingers in the air between you before you speak.

“You have a gunshot wound in your back, Yoongi,” you murmur.  “It’s not exactly a leap of logic.  Besides, I already saw your gun.  It was in your drawer last night when I got you a change of clothes.”

Yoongi nods slowly, processing the fact that you’d discovered the gleaming silver piece and hadn’t written him off right away.  You’d still slept in the crook of his arm last night.  You’re still here right now.

“And yeah, maybe it does freak me out a bit,” you admit.  “But after what I saw last night, maybe I can understand a bit, too.”

Yoongi lets go of the breath he’s been holding and takes your hand in his.  Maybe is as good as he could have hoped for at this point.  Maybe is not a dead end.  

“I have something to tell you, too,” you admit after a moment.  “I’m due at the hospital in a few hours.”

“Doc,” Yoongi groans, hand tightening reflexively around yours.  “You can’t go back there.”

“I don’t have a choice,” you insist, pulling away.  “This isn’t just some job I fell into, Yoongi.  This is years of my life.”

Yoongi is quiet for a few seconds, willing his rising agitation to subside.  He’s careful to check his tone before he speaks.

“You’re not safe there.”

“I have to go back.  I don’t have a choice,” you repeat.  “I can’t afford to get blacklisted and Lee is still my boss. And if he’s already got wind of what happened last night, he’s going to be gunning for me even harder than he already has been.  I have to tread carefully.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“You have to meet me in the middle here, Doc,” he exhales.  “There’s got to be something halfway between you walking right back into that hellhole and you losing your job.  Take a couple of sick days.  Give me some time to figure out who your boss is working with and what I can do about it.  Can you do that?”

You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his proposal.

“Yeah,” you concede softly.  “I can do that.”  

You lift a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his face and press your mouth to his.

Every cell in Yoongi’s body stands at attention.  He cards his fingers into the soft mass of your hair and kisses you slowly -- carefully -- all too aware of the way he’d manhandled you last night.  

Not even the pain in his jaw could take away from how good it feels to touch you like this.  Not even the ache in his ribs could stop him from leaning into you. He slips his tongue past your lips and you whimper, fingers curling into his sore knee.  

He could not give a shit.

Yoongi leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw, and you tip your head back, offering him the soft expanse of your neck.  He accepts it gladly, mouth hot and open on your skin, savoring your scent and taste -- enjoying the way he can feel your pulse fluttering wildly under his lips.

He’s enjoying it all so much that he gets careless.  The elbow of his injured arm connects with the sharp edge of the piano and he recoils instantly.

“Dammit,” he groans. “Fuck.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth.

The pain is so potent it seems to radiate all the way from his arm to his temples. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the ringing in his ears to subside.

“Yoongi, your shoulder, it's -- it’s really bad,” you admonish quietly.  “If you keep going like this, the damage is going to be permanent.”

“Trust me, I know,” he sighs.  “I’m going to get this looked at, I just haven’t.”

“I want you to see a friend of mine at Asan today,” you urge.  “He’s a good doctor.  He can get you some pain relief.  Get you back to working condition.”

Yoongi nods weakly, pain still ebbing from his arm.

“But it’s not a substitute for an MRI and it’s not a substitute for surgery,” you warn.  “This is just a temporary fix.  You have to be careful.  Whatever you’re planning, just please be careful.”

Yoongi skates the pad of his thumb over your lips before kissing you just one more time.

“Don’t worry about me, Doc,” he murmurs.  “I’m going to have some help.”

**************************

It’s amazing what a pair of high-powered steroid shots and a bottle of industrial-strength painkillers can do for a guy.  

Yoongi pulls into the parking lot at Maekju feeling almost human again.

If the text messages that have been blowing up his phone all afternoon are any indication, everyone is here tonight.  Everyone with the exception of Namjoon, of course.  He doesn’t drink anymore and even when he did, he always preferred to drink alone.

Jungkook is the first person Yoongi spots, leaned up against a pool table, beer in hand.  He’s watching Jimin and Taehyung face off at billiards while Seokjin and Hoseok sit side-by-side at the bar, deep in conversation.

The maknae’s eyes go a bit wide when he takes in Yoongi’s unusual gait and immobilized arm.

“Holy shit, hyung,” he breathes as Yoongi approaches.  “What the hell happened to you?”

Seokjin whips around in his barstool at the sound of Jungkook’s greeting, but Hoseok doesn’t take the bait.  He stiffens in his seat but refuses to turn around. Stubborn bastard.

“Yoga accident,” Yoongi mutters, stepping up to the bar next to Seokjin.  The older man smirks as he takes a long pull of his beer.

“How’d you drive with that thing on?” Seokjin asks, motioning to Yoongi’s sling.

“Carefully,” Yoongi says dryly.  “Listen, can you give me a minute with Jung here?”

Seokjin’s critical gaze bounces back and forth between Yoongi and Hoseok, who is still resolutely pretending not to notice the conversation taking place just inches from his face.  He stares into a television mounted high above the bar and sips his whiskey with feigned indifference.

“You two need couple’s counseling, I swear,” Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes. He stands to his feet to relinquish his barstool and claps a hand over Yoongi’s good shoulder.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Hoseok, the fucking infant, grabs a newspaper abandoned on the bartop and proceeds to pretend to read it.  Yoongi slides into the stool next to him anyway.

“Miss me?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer.

“You’re not gonna say hello?  Not gonna ask me why it looks like I spent all night falling off a cliff?”

“Nope.”

Yoongi waves off the bartender who starts walking in his direction.  The last thing he needs is a drink.  He’s got so many painkillers in his system right now that one sip of booze would probably have him under the bar in seconds.

“Come on Hoseok,” Yoongi sighs.  “Don’t be a dick.  I’ve literally never seen you read a newspaper.”

“I like to stay informed,” Hoseok shrugs.

“Well, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Oh, so you talk to me now?” Hoseok snickers.  “That’s new.”

Hoseok’s probably earned the right to his petulance, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.  Yoongi starts to reconsider that drink.

“Jung,” he groans.  “I’m trying to apologize here.”

“So apologize then.”

“Fine,” Yoongi mutters.  “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately.  I’ve been twisted up over some shit that has nothing to do with you or family business.”

Hoseok grabs his whiskey off the bar and finally -- finally -- pivots to face him.

“A giant asshole,” he corrects dryly.  

“Yes. A giant asshole,” Yoongi repeats.  “We good now?”

Hoseok sips his whiskey slowly, eyes narrowed at Yoongi over the lip of his glass.

“Buy me a drink.”

“Fine,” Yoongi hisses, flagging the bartender.  

Hoseok leans back in his barstool, looking a bit smug.

“Now this shit you’ve been twisted up about,” he starts, brow cocked.  “Would this have anything to do with your secret doctor friend?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi admits, scratching at the back of his neck.  His injured shoulder is tired from carrying the extra weight of the sling.  He rolls it gingerly as Hoseok looks on.

“Would this have anything to do with why you look like you got jumped on your way in here tonight?”

Yoongi’s cheeks warm at his partner’s blunt observation.  “Maybe.”

Hoseok drains his whiskey just as the bartender arrives with a fresh one.  He takes a long drink before setting his glass back down on the bar.  His lips purse thoughtfully as he levels Yoongi with a long, assessing look.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “So who do we have to go fuck up?”

**************************

Dr. Lee Geon just looks like a fucking weasel.

Yoongi glares at the man as he strolls into the coffee shop a few blocks from Songdo with just minutes to spare to his shift.  

Lee bears little resemblance to his photos on the hospital website.

He’s thin -- just this side of gaunt -- hollow cheeks prominent below dark under eyes beneath a sparse dusting of greasy hair.  Were he not dressed in a rumpled lab coat and equally creased scrubs, Yoongi might have missed him entirely.

Across the room, Hoseok peers at Yoongi over the top of yet another borrowed newspaper -- is this the guy? -- and Yoongi answers with a furtive nod.  

He goes over the plan they’d worked out in the car in his head.  They’d find the guy -- make sure he was the guy -- and then follow him out of the shop.  Catch him just before he got into his car.  Shake him up a bit before shaking him down for information.

There’s one thing Yoongi still hasn’t worked out, though.

Just how much he’s going to allow himself to hurt this asshole before sending him on his way.  Lee slowly shuffles his way to the front of the line as Yoongi imagines jamming his fist into the man’s stupid fucking face.  Imagines doing it over and over again until the piece of shit is unrecognizable.

Yoongi watches Lee order his drink as he kneads at the tender muscles of his shoulder.

Ditching the sling was probably a bad idea -- definitely against doctor’s orders -- but it was a risk he was more than willing to take.  He’d downed a couple of painkillers and shoved his shoulder into a brace and decided he could deal with the dull throb just for the night.  

No way in hell he was going to confront this scumbag looking like some kid who just fell off his skateboard.  

It doesn’t take long for the barista to put together Lee’s drink.  He grabs his coffee and Yoongi tenses in anticipation of his next move.  But instead of heading for the exit, Lee heads for the bathroom instead.

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok across the room and Hoseok raises one brow.

Change of plans?

Yoongi nods.

*****************************

Lee’s coffee sits abandoned atop the sink ledge.

Yoongi and Hoseok slip silently into the bathroom and get right to work.  Hoseok blocks the door as Yoongi quietly creeps past the stalls, ducking his head to peer beneath each one.  Lee’s scuffed sneakers are the only pair of shoes he spots.

His ears pick up on a faint sound coming from inside the locked stall.

It’s a kind of soft, intermittent rasping.  Yoongi concentrates on the noise, isolates it until he comes to the realization that it’s sniffling he’s hearing.  He turns to Hoseok and taps his finger against the side of his nose and Hoseok nods his agreement.

Yoongi shakes his head in disgust.  Is there a single substance this idiot isn’t addicted to?

It takes a moment for the sniffling to subside.  It’s followed by a few seconds of quiet rustling in which Yoongi can picture Lee carefully pocketing whatever’s left of his coke.  The noises from behind the brushed steel barrier finally stop and the next thing Yoongi hears is the distinct clink of the latch coming apart.

Lee swings the door wide -- gets one look at what’s waiting for him on the other side -- and nearly jumps out of his skin.  

He startles so hard that he almost falls backward into the toilet.  But he catches himself, regaining his balance and staring back at Yoongi with wide, worried eyes.

Yoongi stands there and says nothing.

“Excuse me,” Lee mumbles, eyeing him wearily as he tries to slide past.  He takes two steps forward then stops in his tracks when he spots Hoseok.  Lee swallows thickly, eyes darting back and forth between both men.

“Is there a problem gentlemen?” he croaks.

Yoongi takes a step towards Lee.  He shrinks back when Yoongi reaches for his badge, yanking the retractable cord as he pulls it close to examine it.  Yoongi runs his thumb over the raised lettering on the laminated card, letting the taut silence linger for dramatic effect.

Then he lets go of the badge without warning, fighting a smile when Lee flinches as it snaps back into place.

“Yes, we have a problem,” Yoongi confirms pleasantly.  “And yes, it’s you.”

The little color left in Lee’s face immediately drains out.

“Look, I don’t know who you guys are, but you don’t w-want to mess with me,” he stammers, voice cracking comically halfway through his flimsy threat.  “I know people.”

“Oh shit,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide with feigned concern, “You hear that, Jung?  This guy knows people.”

“Sounds scary,” Hoseok chuckles.

Lee starts to breathe harder, chest rising and falling faster.  Pupils blown with fear and coke.

“Now, here’s the difference between you and us, Dr. Lee,” Yoongi explains calmly.  “You know people.  But we -- ” he motions to himself and then to Hoseok, “ -- are people . Do you understand what I’m trying to say here?”

Yoongi punctuates his point by brushing the edge of his open leather jacket aside, allowing his pistol to peek out from underneath.  Lee’s eyes lock on it as he nods slowly, pulling deep, noisy breaths through his nose.

“Great.  Now we don’t have to play the game where you pretend not to know about the bullshit you’ve been pulling over at the hospital, right?”

Lee shakes his head slowly.

“So that means we also don’t have to play the game where you pretend you didn’t send some fucking street goon to rough up a little old lady, either. Right?”

The man’s mouth drops open like his first instinct is to deny that accusation. But he steals another look at Hoseok and shuts it instead.

“And then -- ” Yoongi jabs Lee in the chest with one finger and the man jumps back, “-- you tried to send that same goon after your own resident.  But here’s the thing, Doctor Lee.  She knows people, too.”

Lee’s body goes rigid.  Yoongi watches him process the information with his drug-addled brain, a flare of recognition finally sparking in his dull eyes.

“I saw you at the hospital,” Lee whispers.  “You know her.”

“Don’t worry about who I know,” Yoongi shrugs.  “Worry about what you’re going to say in your resignation letter.”

He advances on the man again, closing the space between them.  Lee tries to back away, but he runs out of room.  He tilts against the stall door.

“Resignation letter?” he echoes weakly.

“The one you’re turning in tonight,” Yoongi explains coolly.  “Before you get the fuck out of Songdo and then get the fuck out of Seoul.”

Lee sputters for a moment, grasping for his next words.  

“Well, where am I supposed to go?” he bleats.

“Do we look like recruiters to you, man?” Hoseok cuts in sharply.  “We don’t give a shit where you go -- you just have to go.  You sure this guy is a doctor, Min?  He seems way too dumb to be a doctor.”

“Nah.  This guy’s a junkie pretending to be a doctor,” Yoongi accuses, dropping any pretense of good humor.  “Pretending to be a tough guy, too.  But all of that ends tonight.”

Yoongi grabs Lee by the chin, jerking his head into place and forcing the trembling man to look him in the eye.

“In ten minutes, you’re going to walk your ass into that hospital.  You’re going to tell them you are leaving.  You are going to take that piece of shit pharmacist and anyone else who’s involved with you.  And then you are never going to step foot in this city again.”

He pauses to enjoy the way Lee’s pupils dilate even wider with fear.

“You’re not too high to understand what I’m saying to you right now, right?”

Lee shakes his head weakly, jaw still pinned in Yoongi’s vice grip.

“Great. Now just one more thing before you go on your merry way,” Yoongi says, voice low with menace.  “Give us the name of your street guys.”

Lee panics.  “I can’t,” he whines from between compressed cheeks.  “They’ll kill me.”

Yoongi grips his face tighter, crushing the man’s jaw and using it to push his body flush against the stall.  His fingers and knuckles turn white with the force of his grasp and Lee groans weakly at the pain.  

“I will kill you,” Yoongi seethes. “Me.  Right fucking now with my bare fucking hands if you don’t give me that name.”

Lee is sweating so profusely that Yoongi wonders briefly if he’s having a heart attack.  He’s probably got enough coke in his system for that to be an actual concern.  But the pathetic little shit manages to pull himself together long enough to follow directions.

“Kkangpae,” he wheezes.

Yoongi’s iron grip stays in place, even as he turns to Hoseok, even as both men exchange a look.  That is something he did not see coming.  Perhaps his recent personal issues are family business, after all.

He finally releases Lee’s jaw and the man rears back, breathing hard.

“You have exactly one day to get the fuck out of this city,” Yoongi instructs quietly.  “And that is not an offer I’m prepared to make twice.”

Lee licks his dry lips, nodding his head slowly like he’s just come out of a trance.  “Okay.”

“Great chat,” Yoongi smiles, patting Lee’s cheek.

Hoseok leaves his post at the door to cross the cramped bathroom and reach for the coffee Lee abandoned minutes ago.  Both men watch in silence as he turns it up over the sink, pours it out, and then tosses it in the trash.

He heads back to the door and holds it open.

“Damn Hoseok,” Yoongi murmurs as he brushes past.  “That was cold.”

*********************************

YOU

There’s buzzing.  Of that, you’re sure.

But in those first few moments that you’re rousing, you can’t be sure if you’re hearing it or dreaming it.  You’re disoriented.  It’s the second time in as many days you’ve woken up in an unfamiliar bed.

Shafts of sunlight pour through the blinds and you squint at them, trying to get a sense of the time of day.  If the amber tinge is any indication, it’s late into the afternoon.

The buzzing sounds again.

You roll to your side to grab your cell phone off the nightstand and blink at a long list of waiting texts.

ko: wake up sleeping beauty [ 11:36 AM ]

ko: i have news [ 11:45 AM ]

ko: big news [ 12:22 PM ]

ko: and gaeran tost-u [ 1:02 PM ]

ko: ready for you to wake up now [ 1:43 PM ]

ko: don’t mind me just gonna bang a few pots and pans [ 2:11 PM ]

Any curiosity over Ko’s big news is overshadowed by the way your heart drops when none of those messages is from Yoongi.  

Before you’d left his apartment, he’d asked you to stay.  He’d cleared his throat and looked down at his hands and explained that he’d feel better if you weren’t alone until this entire mess was settled.  But the way he looked at you in those last few minutes together made you feel like his proposition was about much more than just your protection.

It made you want to say yes.

Never mind that it’s insane to feel so at home in his personal space -- or that coming to that realization might have sent you into a mild panic.  In the end, you’d had to say no because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Ko on her own while this madness played out.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and fire off two quick texts.

you: i hope you’re okay. please be careful [ 2:33 PM ]

you: up now. be down in five [ 2:34 PM ]

**************************

Ko makes good on her promise of gaeran tost-u.

You’re greeted by the pleasant smell of the sugared egg dish as you walk down the stairs.  Ko sits at her kitchen table, eyes shining with excitement, and pushes a plate at you when you slide into the chair across from hers.

“Eat,” she orders sweetly.  Your stomach rumbles on cue and you waste no time digging in.

“This is really good,” you declare around a mouthful of bread and eggs.  “I might have to live with you forever.”

Ko smiles wide and the expression makes you feel warm from the inside out. The bruising on her face is barely visible now, easily hidden with a little makeup. Her eyes crinkle with happiness as she watches you eat without saying a word.

“Alright,” you sigh, loathe to stop eating even for as long as it takes to speak.  “Spill it. You look fit to burst.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she complains cheerfully.  “Dr. Lee is gone.  Walked into Songdo last night and walked out forever.”

You gasp halfway through your next bite, sputtering as you try to catch your breath around a mouthful of toasted bread.  Ko stands to grab you a glass of water which you gratefully accept.

“Well, don’t die on me now,” she teases, “Because there’s more.  Nang left, too.  And Tuan and Beom from pathology.  All four of them quit without even so much as a notice, Jagi.  Isn’t that wild?”

You sip your water slowly and Ko’s eyes flash as she watches you.

“Yoo called me early this morning and said the entire hospital is talking about it. There’s a bunch of crazy theories going around.  And here I am, drinking my tea.  Thinking about how you took a few sick days and showed up here. Thinking about how healthy and rested you look right now.  Isn’t that interesting?”

You nod, jamming the sandwich back in your mouth for an obnoxiously large bite.

“And I can’t help but wonder if there’s some connection between this very convenient development and my very sweet, secretive friend.”

Ko’s mouth twists into a teasing smile as you chew your food absurdly slow.

“That sandwich isn’t going to last forever, Jagi,” she says dryly.  She lifts her teacup to her mouth and takes a dainty sip.  “And trust me, I have nothing but time.”

She leans back, cup in hand.

“Okay, so I might know something about it,” you admit after a while.  “But there’s still a lot I don’t know.  And I’m not sure how much of this you want to hear.”

Ko tuts under her breath.

“I want to hear it all.  I’ve got quite a few years on you and trust me, very little shocks me anymore.  So now you spill it.”

You take another sip of water and clear your throat.

“Okay,” you exhale.  “So there’s this guy -- ”

“ -- Oh, I love it when stories start like this,” Ko interrupts.  She props her chin up with her hands like you’re telling a bedtime story and you shake your head with a wry smile.

“He’s been kind of… helping me, I guess.”

“Helping you,” Ko echoes.  “As in helping you out of your clothes?”

“No,” you deny hotly, cheeks warming.  “He’s a friend.”

Ko doesn’t bother to call you out on the weak lie.  But her face says what her mouth doesn’t when one skeptical brow raises high.

“Go on.”

“I told him about what was going on at the hospital and he said he could help me,” you explain slowly.  “So I’m pretty sure he figured out a way to run off Lee and Nang.”

Ko taps her finger against the side of her teacup.

“So let me see if I have this right,” she muses.  “You tell this friend -- who you’ve never once mentioned, by the way -- that you’ve been having this very dangerous trouble at work.  And then your friend somehow manages to convince two grown men who’ve worked at Songdo for years to give up their high-paying jobs and up-front access to IV drugs overnight.”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair.

“And just like that -- ” Ko snaps her fingers for emphasis, “ -- they’re gone without so much as a fuss.”

You nod weakly.

“Jagi,” Ko’s voice drops low.  “I take it your friend’s not a mailman, is he?”

“No,” you mumble.  “Definitely not.”

Ko hums under her breath.  She carefully lifts her teacup to drink, eyes trained on you over the rim.  Her quiet scrutiny makes you anxious.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks after a long pause.

“If I said no would that stop you?”

“Not a chance,” Ko laughs.  “Would this friend happen to be the mysterious, handsome man who asked for you in the ER a few weeks back?”

Mind like a steel trap, this woman.  You should have known Ko would make that connection and fast.  There’s no point in denying it, so you don’t.

“Yes,” you whisper thickly. “He is.”

It’s hard to get a read on Ko’s reaction.  Over the years, you’ve come to rely on her sweetness and wisdom and warmth.  But now, as you stare into her dark eyes and try to interpret her careful expression, you realize there’s something else you need from her.

Her approval.

“Ko, I think I -- ” you pause to choose your words carefully, “ -- I think I might be in really deep with this guy.”

Ko snorts.

“Oh, I think you might be right about that, Jagiya .  And if he’s helping you with something like this?  Chances are, you’re not alone.”

“Yeah,” you exhale, wringing your hands together beneath the table.  “Thing is -- I need you to tell me I’m not making a mistake here.”

The corners of Ko’s mouth lift into a soft expression of surprise.

“Oh, Jagi,” she chides sweetly.  “You know I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything about this man.”  She reaches across the table to cover your hand with her own.  “But you do.  You’re the only one who knows how you feel about him.  And you’re the only one who knows if he’s a good man underneath it all.”

Ko squeezes your hand and you turn your head before she can see the tears that threaten in your eyes.  The amber sunlight outside her kitchen window is shifting orange now, flares of light reflecting off the glass.  

You stare at them and think about Yoongi.

Until now, it’s like you’ve been splitting him into two different men -- the bruised, bloody con artist from the exam room and the quiet, teasing flirt from the coffee shop.  Until now, it’s been the only way to reconcile your complicated feelings.

But it's well past time you accepted the truth.

The same Yoongi whose cheeks had pinked when he’d asked you to stay is the same Yoongi you watched beat the shit out of a hired thug.  The Yoongi who carries a cross is the Yoongi who carries a gun.  They’re two halves of one whole.  

And you can’t pine for one and reject the other.

Your cell phone buzzes from the pocket of your pajama pants.  You reach for it, relief coursing through you when you spot Yoongi’s name on the screen.

yoongi: one more thing to do before we can talk [ 3:01 PM ]

yoongi: it’s cold outside, be sure to bundle up [ 3:01 PM ]

Yoongi’s random mention of the weather confuses you.  You stare at the texts and Ko stares at you, concerned by the baffled expression on your face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” you insist, shaking your head.  “Just, um -- ”

Bundle up.   A tingle runs up the length of your spine as realization slowly creeps over you.  

“Excuse me for a moment,” you murmur, slipping out of your seat.

Ko watches you dash up the stairs, slack-jawed.

You make a beeline for your borrowed room, throwing open the closet doors to find the coat you’d left hanging there on arrival.  The coat you’d worn to and from Yoongi’s.  You hurriedly dig into the pockets, fingers immediately making contact with something hard and jagged.  

You pull it out.

The shiny silver key in your palm looks like it’s never been used, sharp edges gleaming in the waning sunlight streaming into this room.

You don’t have to guess what it’s for.

You just close your fingers around it and hold it tight.

*****************

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[luwritesomething]

RIFF HEADCANONS !!

riff is a horrible person and i do not condone his actions but mike's portrayal has made me empathized with the goddamn character and i cannot stop thinking about this headcanons so here you go.

ALSO FIRST HEADCANON I SAW IT SOMEWHERE ON TUMBLR BUT I CANNOT FIND WHO DID IT IM SORRY SO CREDS TO THEM THANK YOU FOR IT.

warnings: swearing (in multiple languages).

riff is terrified of pigeons

that was one of the most hilarious conversations with tony.

"hey- are you okay?"

"it's the pigeons man"

"...the what?"

"THE FUCKING PIDGEONS, TONY"

he can't do math.

and he can't read clocks. like,,, he always ask what time is it and if someone points at the clock instead of actually telling him, he gets pretty upset.

greatest climber. used to climb buildings and stuff just for fun.

dropout from school.

he is bad with kids. not purposefully, he is just not a natural. so then he'll be purposely mean with kids.

he tugs at the old necklace he has like a lot, even when he is not nervous.

by the way, tony has the exact same necklace but he doesn't wear it anymore. it's hanged on one of his walls at doc's, though.

he whistles. a lot. constantly. especially when he is alone.

and he is always singing. he would eventually burst into a full singing and dancing show FOR ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING.

terrific dancer by the way. music floods through his veins.

i'm not saying he has anxiety but that's exactly what i'm saying.

the might tony went to jail, he cried himself to sleep.

riff gets extremely nervous during rumbles. like, his anxiety will actually be higher than his adrenaline tbh.

baby john is his favorite, apart from tony. he is just so quiet and calm, he loves him.

fingers guns and bad puns. IF YOU GOT IT YOU GOT IT.

HE IS IRISH.

he never got to meet his mom because she left. as in,,, abandoned him with his dad. he would like to meet her, though, but he know it's practically impossible.

that fake silver bracelet he has? the only thing left from his mom. and his blond hair has the same blond she has.

hates his dad.

with a passion.

seriously

worst you can do is tell him he looks/acts like his dad.

don't do that.

he'll literally punch you. hard. right on the face.

he is a pretty romantic boyfriend and he really doesn't try to hide it because he's not romantic in the type of saying embarrassing adorable full of sugar things.

he is romantic in hands all over their partner, taking them on cute though short and not expensive dates ( doc's, a walk, dancing or maybe even the cinema )

and god, he would like to have money just so he could spoil his partner. he gets kinda upset when he remember he can't, because he totally would.

give him a clip he'll give you a key.

for real

he doesn't remember when did he learn to do that but he knows how to do it so.

this reminds me,,,

he doesn't remember most of his childhood.

yknowasintraumareflex

that's why he always saying he looks to the future.

his teenage years and the parts with tony, he can remember that perfectly, though.

he used to be a crybaby.

riff cried for absolutely anything when he was a kid.

he had to get tough, though. and now the only people who had ever seen him cry are his father and tony.

he still cries to tony sometimes.

he is always talking and running his mouth but he likes to sit in silence and do nothing.

maybe that's why he likes baby john that much, because when riff is silence he doesn't push him to keep talking.

baby john lets him be.

he is good with cars. not as good as diesel, but still

i'm telling yall.

he is crazy about cars.

will shamelessly punch whoever says a motorcycle is better than a good car.

as he should

his favorite cars are fords

they are just so classy and cool.

mouthpiece is the only one who can get him to crack a smile when he is feeling down.

he knows italian and a bit of french because i have this headcanons in which the jets are a huge cultural treasure.

and when he was learning italian with action, who by the way is italian of course, he naturally learned the swearing first.

he spent a whole week randomly screaming italian swear words whenever he got mad - like when he got his toe stubbed - and upset.

"CAZZO"

"what the heck"

"ACCIDENTI VAFFANCULO, PORCA VACCA, STRONZO UGH!"

"action, what-"

"don't ask, tony, just don't"

[wtfevenismypage]

Teasing Jerkwad

request: Post Prison Reid having this sense of new found confidence after he’s gotten out. Falls in love with a shy quiet techie girl at the BAU and does whatever he can to make her flustered and blushy just because he’s a cocky arrogant asshole who also happens to be in love with her. Always calling her nicknames and rubbing her shoulders when she’s doing some techy stuff on her computer per his request, kissing her forehead, praising her and holding deep eye contact pls write this I love you so much

Warnings: cursing, 

A/N: I love you too my dear!

The first time you had met Spencer Reid was when he had returned from jail. He was dressed in a suit, a few bruises dressed around his eyes. You had just started working at the office as Penelope’s “liege”. She was basically your mentor.

You were in your corner of Penelope’s office, drinking coffee and browsing on your phone when He and Penelope came in laughing. You turned in your swivel chair, meeting their eyes.

“Hey Penelope...”

“Oh oh oh! You two haven’t met yet! Y/L/N, this is our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid! Spencer this is my liege Y/L/N. She started working a few weeks ago! You’ll love her.”

The coffee in your mouth almost escapes, you had heard of Dr. Reid and his whole jail situation. You had tried your best to gather proof to get him out and actually you were quite successful.

“Reid, Y/L/N was actually the one who gathered most of the proof to get you out of there. Neither of us would go home until we got you out of there, she’s been up almost every night to get you out as fast as possible.”

“Pen! Don’t expose me like that! I’m so sorry Dr. Reid, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

You stumble over your own feet, waving in front of him. You had heard about his germ issue and wouldn’t dare give this guy a reason to hate you.

“Call me Spencer, and thank you so much for everything.”

He seemed so sweet. 

It didn’t last long.

After your meeting with the man he was never too far, He started calling you daily, or even just coming in with requests to look things up. 

“C’mon Honey, just look it up?”

“Y-you’re a genius! Don’t you know this stuff already? This is child’s play!”

“Please?”

He leaned down, your back facing him as you sat in front of your three computers. His arms wrapped around you from behind, whispering in your ear.

“For me?”

A crazy red blush crawls up your neck, slightly annoyed at the tall man. 

“Go ask Pen! I- I’m busy!”

“Okay fine, just real quick can you look up-”

“Out!”

He sighs, hugging you tighter before releasing you and patting your shoulders. He walks away and the door shuts, a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

“Oh my god he’s gonna kill me one day.”

A few days later you’re working your first case alongside Penelope. It’s exhilarating, having to gather information at light speed is stressful, but nothing too bad.

The phone rings and Penelope answers, both of you working your fingers as fast as possible as Spencer’s voice rings out.

“What’s up doc?”

“Hey Garcia, hey princess,” you could feel Penelope’s eyes drift to you, her mouth dropping, “I need you to find someone for me. Try a man who’s been to rehab for drug abuse over three times, also been to jail. White, and married with two kids.”

You do as he says, finding twenty matches.

“Twenty matches.”

“Alright, his kids are between the ages of ten and fifteen. Maybe twins?”

“Two matches. Sending them over now.”

“Thanks princess, you’re the best.”

“N-no issue.”

He hangs up and Penelope turns her body to face you.

“Princess? He calls you princess?”

Your cheeks lit up bright red, embarrassed at her realization.

“Oh you like him!”

“No! He’s a teasing asshole who won’t let me do my job for three seconds without toying with me!”

“A teasing asshole who you you like.”

You try you’re hardest to fight the smile off of your face, but it’s no use, A wide grin has already smacked itself onto your lips at the thought of the hot doctor.

-

-

-

-

-

If only that smile had lasted.

God, Spencer was such a tease it hurt. He always had his hands on you, he was always so close. So damn close to your face, but never for too long. He always left as soon as he got you as flustered as possible.

And you were starting to get annoyed. He’s just been playing with your emotions for so long, toying with you like a kid with a doll. 

“Hey princess, where you going?”

“As far away from you as possible.”

“Awww don’t be like that!”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, which you forcefully shrug off while crossing into yours and Penelope’s office.

“I have things to file Doctor. Please let me work in peace.”

The one and only thing that peeved Spencer was the fact that you never called him Spencer. Or even just Reid. It was always sir or Doctor. It peeved Spencer so much that he grabbed your wrists and pushed you along in the room with his body until you both hit your desks, luckily, Penelope wasn’t in the room, or you’d have pushed him off.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Spencer huh? You hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you! I just... You tease me so much and its the only way... That I can get even...”

He truly couldn’t stop the smile that grew as your words grew quieter with every syllable. You looked so shy and innocent whilst admitting your fault. He just wanted to ruin your innocence right then and there.

But he knew better than that. Instead, he released your wrists and set his hands on the sides of your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You flushed into a deep crimson color, looking down in embarrassment.

“You were trying to fight by calling me doctor? Really? You couldn’t think of anything better?”

He asked, crouching down to your height to meet your gaze. His watching eyes only made you blush harder.

“Well I was going to ignore you but I was gonna miss you.”

Your lips were pursed as you whine, your hands awkwardly sticking to his forearms as he continues to smirk.

“Aww Sweetheart... You are so fucking adorable.”

He says before leaning in, pausing briefly to check for any signs that you don’t want this, but when you close your eyes, tilting your head up slightly, he leans in further, melding your lips together.

His lips are soft, plump, they feel like they were made for yours specifically. They felt so perfect. So wonderful.

When he pulls away, you can still feel his smile even before you open your eyes. You could feel how he had waited for so long to kiss you.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

a simple nod was all he needed to answer his question.

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016​ @spencer-reids-snow-white​ @sheepfather​ @eusuntgroot​ @libradolan​ @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @secretpickleprofessordean @aquarius-pisces-rose​

[sylvie-writes]

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine. 

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny. 

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature. 

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather. 

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache. 

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals. 

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.” 

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness. 

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal. 

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon. 

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant. 

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

 At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last. 

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was. 

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke. 

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness. 

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Lunch break at last. 

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest. 

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course. 

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible. 

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty. 

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them. 

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance. 

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“Babe, dinner is ready!” 

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten. 

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister. 

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain. 

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple. 

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for. 

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially. 

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more. 

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.” 

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.” 

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed. 

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you. 

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture. 

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips. 

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” 

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair. 

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made. 

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair. 

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor. 

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand. 

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison. 

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help. 

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages. 

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look. 

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you. 

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own. 

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same. 

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis. 

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk. 

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague. 

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat. 

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes. 

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on. 

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose. 

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer. 

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak. 

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions. 

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.” 

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure. 

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room. 

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve. 

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!” 

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.” 

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.” 

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you. 

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued. 

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face. 

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand. 

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”  

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.” 

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him. 

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.” 

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!” 

He really was too good for this world. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

[appalachianapologies]

Or (and) the first time Mac was injured and could just go home to recuperate because Bozer knows the truth

jokes on you, you get another drabble instead of a headcanon apparently my brain is in write mode

Jack's furious. If they lived in a cartoon, Mac wouldn't be surprised if steam started blowing out of Jack's ears.

And, contrary to popular belief, Mac knows when to not poke the bear.

To his credit, Mac truly did think that it was a bad sprain. His ankle was swollen, but that happens with sprains. And it's his bad ankle-- trick ankle, if Jack wasn't currently seething in the front seat-- so Mac wasn't too concerned when he landed wrong and went down to his palms. It felt like a sprain.

It took minutes, minutes that they didn't afford to lose, for Mac to convince Jack the same.

But finally, the older man backed off, and let Mac complete the mission, with only a medium amount of mother henning. Of course, that all went down the drain when Doc Ayala sent him to x-rays, and his damn bones betrayed him.

Despite the fact that it was a small fracture, it was a fracture nonetheless, and Jack was- is- pissed. Driving with a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Looking back in the rear view mirror to make sure that Mac is still in one piece, left leg splayed out on the bench seat next to him.

Mac opens his mouth to ask the question they always brainstorm about on the way home. Always too early to question when he's in the med bay, but he gets too anxious to wait the drive to Jack's.

What will he tell Boze?

But instead, a different question escapes. "Are you going to your place or mine?"

Jack uses the mirror to look at Mac. "What kinda question is that?"

"It's just that- now that Boze knows, and there are stairs at your apartment. You know." Mac sucks in a breath, knowing he's only making it worse. "I'm not trying to get away from you or anything."

Jack doesn't even comment on it. "I'll take you home."

His stress bleeds out through the car, no matter how many windows are open.

As soon as they pull into the driveway, Bozer flings open the door. "Mac! What the hell, man?"

Precariously balancing on his crutches, Mac awkwardly accepts a one sided hug. "I'm okay. Promise."

Jack mutters something under his breath, but Mac can't quite grasp it from underneath Bozer's questioning.

Making it through the front door takes longer than Mac would like to admit.

While Jack helps him to the couch, Bozer immediately busies himself in the kitchen, talking quietly to himself as he measures out a handful of ingredients that Mac thinks he used last week on an impromptu experiment.

Once Mac is settled, Jack lingers.

Not like he usually does. Not in the way where he wants to mother hen but is too scared he'll end up doing the opposite and chase off Mac. No, this time, he lingers like he wants to leave.

And so Mac may as well give him the chance. "You don't have to stay."

Jack gives him a weak smile. Forced. Anyone would know that from a mile away. "Yeah. You don't really need me here anymore. Boze got you."

He can't help but frown. "I don't- do you want to stay?"

"You're hurt," Jack replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course I want to stay. But it's, uh," It's rare, seeing Jack this unsure of himself. "Don't wanna intrude on you two."

Frown deepening, Mac reaches out to grab Jack's wrist before he can leave. "I thought that you wanted to leave."

"Why the hell would I want to do that? You get a concussion too?"

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"Fuckin' pissed," Jack agrees. "But that don't mean I'm gonna leave you on your own. I thought you wanted me gone."

The conversation feels like something mirrored from his childhood. Reflecting on the opposite side. "Jack,"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Even though Boze knows... I- I still-" Grimacing at his inability to say the words in his head, Mac runs a hand over his face. "I'm not replacing you."

It's harsher, a cold edge than what Mac wanted, but it gets the point across. A quiet smile from Jack as he makes himself comfortable on the cushion beside Mac.

They'll be okay.

That is, until tomorrow morning when Mac has to learn to live with not one, but now two, over protective, far too concerned, mother hen coded roommates.

[rubykgrant]

(Here is more Grimmons babies, in which Kai and Donut are introduced to them~)

“Holy shit, we have four babies,” Grif whispered, and Sarge let out a snort.

“We sure do,” Simmons agreed, trying his best not to laugh. “And they’re gonna turn into four toddlers, then four kids, then four teenagers, then four adults…”

“They grow up so fast…” Grif said wistfully, as if it had already happened.

From outside, the group heard a car pull up, followed by the engine going quiet, then doors opening and shutting.

“Well, the rest of the gang’s here,” Simmons smiled, turning to look at Grif again.

“The heck took them so long?” Grif wondered.

The door opened, and Donut peeked inside, an excited expression on his face. He gave a little wave, then opened the door wide. Behind him was Doc, and… somebody else. It took a moment for the others to see who, but as the visitors stepped in from the shadows and into the soft light of the house, they realized it was a familiar face.

“Hey guys~” Donut greeted them in a cheerful but hushed voice. “Sorry we’re late,”

“We had to go pick up somebody,” Doc explained.

Grif lit up when he saw his sister; he had meant to call her as soon as they got to the hospital… but then there had been so much to worry about, so much to do, and at one point he had been horrifically frightened that he might have to call her with BAD news instead of GOOD. So, he waited. Grif waited for hours, his gut twisted in an anxious knot, and by the time he was absolutely certain nothing was wrong, it was late in the day (the night, really). He and Simmons just wanted to get home. Now that she was here though, Grif was happy.

“Move, move, lemme see the babies~” Kai shooed Donut and Doc out of her way, walking directly toward Grif and Simmons. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, and proudly held their children up so she could see all four clearly. Kai leaned down slightly, looking at the tiny faces, her hand clasped over her mouth to hold in a scream of delight. After a moment, she took a deep breath and spoke softly.

“Hi babies. I’m your Auntie Kai. I’m gonna love you, and spoil you, and take you to PG-13 movies when you’re 10, and buy you all the junk-food you want to eat, and all the expensive birthday presents that make what your dads get you look lame, and I’ll always be ready whenever you need an alibi for anything…”

“Basically, you’re going to be a bad influence on our children,” Grif rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smirking at his sister.

“Absolutely,” she agreed, then straightened up to look at the parents; her brother, and her brother-in-law. She could see that they had both been crying, and felt her own eyes start to tingle (the tears not far behind). “Guys, seriously, they’re beautiful. And you both… you really LOOK like DADS, you know?”

Kai reached up, placing one hand on her brother’s cheek, the other on Simmons’.

“I never thought Dex would actually settle down and have kids with somebody, especially after how messed-up our childhood was… but you two? Together? I’ve seen how much you love each other, and I can already tell how much you love your babies, so it’s just… it’s kind of perfect, but better than the fake-perfect you see when families TRY to look perfect, because this is REAL. It’s real love, and you’re real dads, and it’s perfect…”

“Thank you,” Simmons told her, almost too quiet to hear. Grif was still trying to get his words under control (they wanted to just spill out, like the crying and the laughing, but he needed to say the right thing).

“I love you, BOTH of you. And you’re lucky I do, otherwise I’d be kicking your bitch-asses for not calling me earlier when the kids were born,” she then squished their faces with her hands, pinching their cheeks lightly before letting go and giving them a few affectionate pats. Simmons had to bite his lip to keep his laughter down.

“Sis, I- I remember, when mom and dad brought you home for the first time…” Grif said, swallowing the stupid lump in his throat, trying and failing to keep his voice from shaking. “and I was still pretty little, so I had to sit down to hold you in my lap. You were the first REAL baby I’d ever seen up-close. I didn’t want to let mom or dad take you away, even when I got so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open… because you were my baby sister, and I was your big brother, and I just- I loved you right away. Then I found out what a pain in the ass you could be when you got older,”

One of Kai’s hands went back to cover her mouth again, with her other hand she flipped-off her brother (which was as much of a symbol of endearment as a hug between them).

“And you’re right, our childhood WAS a disaster. I figured I’d never want to worry about anybody the same way I worried about you… but look at me now, I’m all grown-up, and I’m holding TWO babies,” Grif looked toward his husband, seeing the very open and tender expression on Simmons’ face. “and if I needed to, I’d hold all four of them on my own… but I’ve got Simmons. We’ve got each other. We also have you, and the rest of our friends. Our babies have a really big family that loves them,”

“And I suppose… that includes the BLUES…” Sarge added, trying to sound reluctant (as if he hadn’t gone camping with the Blues, or never had cook-outs with the Blues, or didn’t go to movie-nights with the Blues).

“Yes, sir. It does,” Simmons agreed, no false resentment from him. “Especially considering Kai is technically a Blue,”

“Enough color theory. My turn to fawn over the little darlings~” Donut walked up to peer over Kai’s shoulder, Doc stepping closer with him. “Oh my gosh…they’re the most adorable babies that have ever existed, and I say that as a fact, with absolutely no personal biases,”

The fathers stood up a little straighter; they agreed, they had the best babies. Ever. Of all time.

“So, tell me the names. Doc wouldn’t give it up in the car- I mean, he kept me in suspense until we got here. Shut up, I heard it…” Donut ignored the muffled snorts of amusement at his almost-innuendo.

“Well, this is Daisy…” Simmons nodded to the larger baby he held in his left arm. “and Darien,” he nodded to the twin nestled in his right arm.

“I’ve got Davis,” Grif turned his head down to the smallest baby that rested in his right arm. “and Delilah,” he turned toward the twin he carried in his left.

“You used one of the names I picked?” Kai asked happily. She had chosen Delilah when she found out they were using names that began with the letter “D”. Not because of the story about Samson and Delilah, which Kai was only vaguely aware of, but because of an old cartoon show she had watched with her brother and Simmons (“These Gargoyles are HOT!”).

“Aw, I love them all. It must have been hard picking out four names,” Donut remembered what it had been like early on, with Grif and Simmons making long lists of names they liked (mostly revolving around fictional characters and authors of science-fiction).

“Yeah, but once we settled on using the letter D, it helped narrow down the choices,” Simmons explained.

“Now we all kinda match, since he’s Dick and I’m Dexter,” Grif added.

“Oh, wait, I’m Donut, and we’ve also got Doc! We match too,” Donut threw and arm around Doc’s shoulder.

“Hmph, I still say we should have gone with MY ideas for baby names…” Sarge mumbled.

“NO, there was never any chance whatsoever that we would name our kids Crimson, Scarlet, Bloodstone, and Strawberry. Get over it,” Grif gave Sarge a sarcastic look, one eye squinted with the other brow raised high, as he shook his head. Simmons turned his face away, because if he kept looking at Sarge right now, he would finally lose control and fall into a giggle-fit.

“I think Bloodstone would have been perfectly as a suitable middle name…” a voice, so quiet and yet like gravel, spoke up.

“See, O’Malley gets it!” Sarge raised his hands triumphantly.

“That doesn’t help your cause,” Grif rolled his eyes.

“Alright, come on. We named them, and the only ones who’ll get to change the names will be the kids when they’re older, if that’s what any of them want…” Simmons said.

“Even if one of them wants to be named Bloodstone?” Grif looked horrified.

“Yes, Grif. We’ll just have to adjust and keep love our kids, no matter what,” Simmons sighed.

“See, you’re already wonderful parents!” Doc complimented them. “These four are so lucky to have you both as dads, and even though they were a little late arriving, they were born on a lucky day. They’ll get to have their birthday on the first of October, and then at the end of the month, they can enjoy Halloween. That’s like, every kid’s dream!”

Both Grif and Simmons had thought about that to themselves; it wasn’t fun if your birthday was TOO close to a holiday, because you’d get over-shadowed or forgotten… but October was a long month, with the first and thirty-first having enough distance between them. Also, yes, Halloween was a day they still enjoyed as adults, and knew it was a blast for kids (it combined candy AND spooky stuff, the best of both).

“This is gonna be a whole thing with him, isn’t it?” Grif sighed.

“Oh, come on, Grif. It’ll be fun,” Simmons replied. “And you know what? I didn’t have ANYBODY who cared about me actually enjoying my childhood… I like that we’ve got so many people who want to be part of out babies’ lives, and it’s great that they’re making plans for when the kids grow up…”

“How’s about we get these bundles of joy to bed, before we start talking about sending them off to college?” Sarge joked, grinning at the others.

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

In a Heartbeat ~ Doctor!Bucky x Reader Oneshot

A/N: Title subject to change. This is a GIANT CONGRATULATIONS PRESENT for my fave Doctor!Bucky lover and yours @captainscanadian Because my girl finished undergrad today! Congrats, bby! Enjoy this doctor!bucky fluff that I said I would write a million years ago. ;) I'm so proud of you!!

Summary: What should have been a fun night out ends in the ER. At least your doctor is handsome?

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: Injuries (fractured ankle), hospital, getting a cast, xrays and catscan. I think that's it. Fluff

Word Count: 2190

For the first hour of your stay in the ER you couldn’t decide if the constant beeping from the machine beside you was calming or irritating.

As it rolled into the second hour, you settled on irritating. You glared down at your ankle even though it was hidden under the blanket. You moved it ever so slightly, wincing as it caught on the sheet.

You unlocked your phone, letting your friends know that yes you were still here. And no you didn’t have any updates. And no they shouldn’t feel guilty.

A small part of you had blamed them in the first moments, after all they were the ones who convinced you to celebrate the end of finals with some drinking and dancing.

You checked your make up in the mirror next to your front door before locking up. You glanced at the door across the hall, hoping to catch the eye of your hunky neighbor before heading out. But no dice.

Oh well. At least your dress would likely be appreciated at the club. You’d even pulled out your comfy heels. Heels which were now mocking you from their spot on the chair next to your purse.

You’d been feeling good strutting down the stairs of your apartment building when a group of college kids who had clearly been pre-gaming, thundered past you, forcing you to press up against the wall. When you’d taken your next step your heel broke and you went sliding down 15 stairs.

You’d thought your ass had taken the worst of it until you tried to stand up and immediately cried out in pain.

So instead of ferrying you to a club, the Uber your friends arrived in took you to the hospital. You’d sent your friends on their way once you’d been processed and were waiting to be admitted. No need to spoil everyone’s night.

But now five hours later and bored out of your skull you were regretting that decision. You were going to lose your mind. You’d only left the room twice. Once for an x-ray and once for a CT scan.

You turned on the TV and settled on the game show network, letting the episode of family feud distract you.

You were on your third episode when a nurse came in.

“Hello. I’m Wanda, the night shift nurse. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. I’m just eager to get out of here.”

“I’ll bet you are. Dr. Barnes should be in soon,” she assured you. “He just finished up a surgery.”

“Sounds good.”

She checked your chart, noting your vitals and making sure that you weren’t tangled in any wires.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Can I have some water?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Wanda brought back a cup of water and a warm blanket.

“Thought you might be cold,” she explained.

“Actually yeah. Thanks. Is there any way I can take this off?” You gestured to the heart rate monitor on your finger.

She shot you an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. It’s protocol.”

“Worth a shot,” you shrugged.

“I’ll come and check on you in a little bit.”

“Thank you.”

She bustled out of the room and you turned your attention back to the TV which had moved on the Price is Right reruns.

You must have drifted off because the next thing you know you were being gently shaken. Your eyes were finally able to focus on a pair of entirely too blue eyes.

As your brain caught up, you realized the blue eyes were set in a very handsome face. A familiar handsome face at that.

“2A?” you asked cocking your head to the side.

He chuckled as you readjusted yourself trying to discretely check that you hadn’t drooled in your sleep.

“Most people call me Dr. Barnes. Or Bucky.”

“Bucky?”

That made even less sense. You were certain the name on his mailbox was James.

“My middle name is Buchanan. And what shall I call you, 2B?”

“Y/n.”

“Well it’s very nice to officially meet you, Y/n. Although I wish it were under better circumstances. Let’s take a look at this ankle shall we?”

You nodded, and he took that as an assent to lift the blanket. He folded in neatly up over your knee leaving most of your lap covered. You grimaced when you saw the swelling was even worse now than when you arrived.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

You relayed your story to him, omitting the bit about hoping to run into him. He listened intently, making the occasional note but mainly he just nodded.

“I’m going to examine it now,” he announced.

His hands were sure and practiced as he gently turned your ankle from side to side. It twinged occasionally, so you focused on his features to distract yourself.

You catalogued each in turn but lingered on his sharp jawline. Your thoughts drifted to peppering kisses along it and down his neck.

You were startled when his cerulean gaze met yours with a concerned look.

“Did that hurt?”

“Not really. Why?”

You were genuinely confused by the question. You hadn’t noticed anything amiss in his examination.

“Your heart rate was elevated. And you, ummm,” he broke eye contact for the first time.

“I what?”

“Squeaked.”

Your eyes widened and your chest felt hot with embarrassment. You glanced at the traitorous machine which was live casting your racing heart. Although that probably was less of the issue than the fact that you squeaked.

“I guess the hospital just makes me nervous,” you lied lamely.

He didn’t look convinced but thankfully let it go.

“I just need to check one more angle.”

This time it was painful and you yelped.

“Sorry.” He gingerly placed your foot back on the pillow that had been elevating it and covered it with the blanket.

He held the CT scans and X-rays up to the light as you watched him. You once again failed to notice your heart rate climbing as you admired the bulge of his bicep.

Dr. Barnes however definitely noticed. He smiled over at you reassuringly, which failed to help the issue at all. He glanced at the erratically beeping machine, before looking back to you. You would swear that there was a hint of smugness in his expression. But he kept it well hidden.

“Well, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.”

“Lay it on me, doc.”

“Well, the good news is that you will not be needing surgery. It’s a minor fracture.”

“And the bad news?”

“It’s a minor fracture that requires a cast.”

“How long?”

“Eight weeks. Total.”

“Eight weeks on crutches?” You whined.

“You should only be on crutches for the first four. After that, assuming everything is healing well, you’ll be in a walking cast.”

You groaned and shot a murderous glare at your heels once again.

“The price we pay for fashion.”

“I’ll have Wanda prepare everything now. It should only take about an hour.”

“Well, that sure cuts into my dancing plans,” you joked, frustrated by being stuck there for another hour.

It would be morning before you got home.

“Is that where you were headed?” he asked as he pressed the call button.

“Yeah. My friends finally convinced me to go out with them for once and look where it got me,” you laughed humorlessly. “Well at least I’m done for the summer. So the leg won’t mess me up too bad.”

Wanda appeared in the doorway.

“What do you need, doctor Barnes?”

“I need a cast kit. For the ankle.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back.”

You expected Bucky to leave then, but he continued bustling around the room.

“You said you’re done for the summer. Are you a teacher?”

“Kinda.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I’m a graduate student. So I just finished up TAing for the semester.”

“Ahh. Are you doing research then?”

“I’m finishing up the edits on my thesis actually. So this might actually make me do it instead of procrastinating," you giggled.

“What’s your thesis on?”

You were in the middle of explaining your thesis, when Wanda returned. Genuinely interested in your area of research, Bucky continued asking you questions as he wrapped the liner around your leg.

From time to time he would grin up at you and the damn heart rate monitor would go off all over again. You’d gotten over your embarrassment for the most part, until Wanda had to suppress a giggle because your heart actually skipped a beat.

“Alright. You are all set. Wanda will grab you your crutches and your discharge papers. You’ll need to make a follow up with your Orthopedic in four weeks.”

“Since I don’t have an orthopedic on speed dial, do you know any good ones?”

Bucky chuckled.

“I’ll have her put my practice’s number on the sheet.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“No problem. Do you have any questions before I go?”

“How long do you think getting all the paperwork sorted will take?”

“Not long. Twenty minutes or so. Why?”

“Just wondering if I should order my Uber now or wait.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall. His fingers drummed against the clipboard in his hand as he momentarily mulled something over.

“If you’re willing to wait another forty-five minutes, I can drive you home when I get off my shift.”

You immediately shook your head.

“You so don’t need to do that.”

“Please. It’s literally on my way home.”

You nibbled on your lip. It would be a lot easier.

“If you’re sure.”

He seemed almost relieved when you accepted.

“Absolutely. It’s been pretty quiet tonight, so you can just hang out in here until I get back.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

He smiled, softer than the other ones he’d given you so far before hanging your chart on the end of your bed and exiting the room, bumping into the glass door as he went. You stifled a giggle. Maybe you weren’t the only one affected.

It took a little over thirty minutes to get you processed. And before you knew it Bucky was helping you into his car. You went in butt first and then swung your cast leg, followed by your good leg in just a hospital sock. Bucky handed you your shoes and purse.

“So, do you chauffer all of your patients home?” You teased as you left the parking lot.

“Only the ones who live across the hall. Speaking of which, I am sorry this is the first time we’ve gotten to meet properly. Not very neighborly of me.”

“I can’t imagine why you haven’t made your way over with your loads of free time,” you deadpanned, earning you an eyeroll. “But however it happened, I’m glad that we met. It was getting to the awkward stage.”

“Yeah, seven months of passing waves is a long time.”

You hummed your agreement.

“So, how did you get into medicine?”

“Family business.”

He told you all about his surgeon mom and physician father as you drove home. His siblings were also in medicine and even his childhood best friend.

“That is so many medical degrees in one house. Must be rousing holiday dinner conversations.”

“We actually have a no shop talk rule.”

“And how long does that last?” you asked knowingly.

“Through appetizers… maybe.”

“Your family sounds amazing.”

“They are. I wouldn’t trade them for anything,” he admitted as he parked his car.

Bucky carefully helped you out of the car and up to your apartment. You’d never been so glad to live in a building with an elevator.

“I feel like I should offer you breakfast for bringing me home,” you admitted as you plopped down on the couch, and lifted your foot onto the coffee table exhausted from the crutches.

“You need to stay off that foot. But I’m sure you’re starving and so am I. Got any pancake mix?”

“Doctor Barnes, you really don’t have to do that.”

“It’s Bucky. We’re back to just neighbors here. And I want to.”

“How can I repay you?”

“Think about going out on a date with me when your leg is all healed.”

You cocked your head, as you appraised him.

“Just think about it?”

He scratched behind his ear as he shrugged a little.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you out for well… about seven months. But I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. Because you don’t. I would have brought any of my neighbors home,” he rambled.

“You’re a really good guy,” you hummed.

“Could you tell my Ma that?” he joked, though his ears tinged pink.

“Happily. And I’d love to think about going on a date with you.”

He beamed back at you.

“I’ll take it. So pancakes?”

“In the cabinet above the fridge. Next to the chocolate chips.”

He nodded, taking the hint on your favorite add on.

“I’m on it.”

Eight weeks later when your walking cast came off, you and Bucky went out for dinner… for your two month anniversary.

Your heart definitely still raced when he smiled at you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: There we have it! I hope you enjoyed @captainscanadian.