#i remember after the doctor thing i thought to myself Wait. That never happened!! and intentionally changed the detail

[tristantzara]

i have had another leon czolgosz dream, several in fact .. !!! a startling resurgance...

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby? 

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once. 

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes. 

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly. 

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room. 

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider. 

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor. 

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

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

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other. 

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time. 

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat. 

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia. 

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him. 

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation. 

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly. 

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery. 

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face. 

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file. 

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip. 

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

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

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for. 

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers. 

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy." 

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back. 

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off,  humming and sighing softly. 

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy. 

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed. 

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child. 

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

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

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work. 

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did. 

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator. 

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly. 

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded. 

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

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

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you. 

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea. 

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning. 

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket. 

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now. 

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

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

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee. 

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway. 

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly. 

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you. 

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island. 

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?" 

"Yes, sir."

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

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

[dolphin-diaries]

A Conversation With Lucy Kartikasari

An interview with a fellow detrans woman and activist about her experience. Originally posted on the Dolphin Diaries substack.

Dolphin Diaries: Would you introduce yourself and describe how you identify?

Lucy Kartikasari: Hi! My name is Lucy Kartikasari. I’m twenty-eight years old, I live in the Netherlands and I would label myself as a queer, bisexual detrans woman. Aside from my normal day job, I’m an online activist for LGBTQ rights with a focus on community-building between trans and detrans people. I feel like that is very sorely needed in today’s political climate.

So, when people think of detrans people, they usually think about the medical aspects of transition first and foremost. You were a teenager when you started transitioning, and you went through the Dutch transition procedure, is that correct?

Right, that is correct. I was twelve when I started my social transition and sixteen when I started my medical transition.

What has that experience been like?

My experience of it as a teen was marked by long waiting lists—which are still part of trans healthcare in the Netherlands today. After I came out to my parents, we went to our GP, and then I spent about three and a half years on a waitlist before I could even start the diagnostic portion of the transition process. It’s all been quite gatekeep-y.

But at the same time, I don’t think the psychologists involved really understood transition and what might motivate someone like me to do it. For me specifically, the root of my transition was the idea that I’d be a failure as a woman. I couldn’t be that beautiful, thin, hairless doll. So I remember the doctors asking me, have I considered if I could just be a masculine woman? And, no. I don’t think this way anymore, obviously, but back then, for me being a masculine woman also meant being a failure. Anything less than picture-perfect cisheteronormativity was not good enough. So I felt like, I may as well be a man. And I don’t think they understand what that kind of trauma looks like.

So, based on the kinds of questions they were asking you, what do you think they were trying to screen you for?

I think, besides asking if I was just a masculine woman, they were trying to screen for things like sexual trauma. But mostly it was, like, what makes you not want to be a woman? And I would say, well, it’s my body parts. I had a lot of negative thoughts about having extra fat on my body—you know, growing up in a half-Asian household, fatphobia is very common. Only thin women can be successful, and if you’re not under fifty kilos, you’re not thin enough. And so I had a lot of negative feelings about that and my breasts in particular. Just very disinterested in having them, very unhappy with them. And I didn’t really want to be a woman, so I was like, well if I want to live as a man, I should have a flat chest, a penis, and so on. And so, because I was so dissatisfied with my body and with my breasts especially, that assured them it was really gender dysphoria. I don’t think they really understood my cultural context, either.

Would you say it was like, the doctors were aware that women might have bodily insecurities, but surely, if you were really a woman, you wouldn’t hate it that badly?

Exactly. And while I was on the waitlist, I was in therapy, but I was never in therapy with someone who specialised in gender dysphoria. They just looked at me and went, well, let’s wait four years and see if the child still wants to transition. So what happened was, I spent all that time presenting as a boy, at the time that my identity was really crystalising, between the ages of twelve and fifteen. So by the time it came to doing the diagnostics, I was already like, yeah I’m a boy, there’s nothing else to it. I’m a dude.

So it sounds like, since you had to wait so long, you weren’t really coming to a psychologist to help you with figuring out your transness? You just came there specifically to transition?

Yeah. When I first came out, it was to my dad, and I wasn’t sure then. I just said, I think I’m a boy. What would’ve been helpful for me at the time was if someone would’ve sat down with me and helped me untangle my feelings, why I was so insecure about the idea of growing up as a woman, why the trappings of a female body were so traumatising to me. Why I had so many of these weird issues of, like, my bones being too big, my wrists not being small enough. Because I was just like: I don’t want to fail, I don’t want to be bad at this; I may as well do something I’ll be good at.

So that time you spent living as a boy while not being able to access medical transition—how did that affect you?

I felt like I was a victim of my own biology. I felt like, if I was on testosterone, at least some of this fat would be muscle. I know it’s a lot of fatphobia—don’t get me wrong, I’m a gym girl now, I know you don’t have to be on T for that. But I’m still working very hard to deconstruct all these things. Back then, I looked at my unclothed body with revulsion, and I felt like a masculine body would be so much better than whatever I had going on. Going through life as a boy while simultaneously being so disgusted with myself—it was just so much easier to exist in places where I didn’t have to be physically present, like online. I learned to detach my personality from my physicality, to disassociate.

Has that affected your experience with detransition?

Well, I’m twenty-eight now. My adolescence was a long time ago at this point, so it can be hard to reconnect with the way I used to feel back then. But that ability to disconnect from my body has actually made it easier to cope with my bodily insecurities now, too. Because it’s like, even if I feel horrible, even if I were to devolve into some sort of horrific creature physically, I know I’d still be me in my mind, no matter what.

And have you needed to access gender-affirming care as a detrans woman?

Yeah, I’ve had a total hysterectomy, so I’m reliant on oestrogen HRT for the rest of my life. I have had laser hair removal on my face, since the growth there was bothering me quite a lot. And I’ve been planning to undergo breast reconstruction and a treatment for the scarring on my chest.

In terms of access to gender-affirming healthcare for detransition as an adult, what’s been your experience?

As an adult, I found that there really are no protocols in place for detransition—like, they just don’t think about it at all. Some of my interactions with healthcare professionals have been quite callous. For example, when I first approached my doctor about switching my hormones, one of the first things he said to me was, You know it’s actually really rare for people to do this. And I was kind of like, well of course it’s rare. But how is that supposed to help me now?

One of the other things I had to do is wait. I took my last dose of testosterone in September 2022, and I only got to start oestrogen in December 2022.

So that’s like, months with low sex hormones across the board?

Yeah, it crashed pretty quickly. October, I wasn’t feeling great; November, menopausal symptoms were starting to kick in. It was starting to affect my day job. Thank goodness, the company doctor was an older woman, so I just explained to her my detransition and said, look, I don’t have hormones in my body right now. And she understood.

So, for November and January, I was actually experiencing menopausal symptoms for the second time in my life. Because I’ve also been on hormone blockers and nothing else when I was sixteen. There’s some comedy there, menopause at sixteen and then again at twenty-six. Now I look back at it and laugh, but at the time it was obviously horrific.

As for the social aspect of detransitioning, I didn’t really want to tell people about it because I was essentially stealth in a lot of places, especially my professional life. So people in the workplace would see me and interpret me as a trans woman all of a sudden. To be fair, I was working in data engineering, so I think everyone was just looking at me and being like, yep, makes sense.

This dovetails into my next question: what has it been like, outside of online and queer spaces, to live as a detrans woman?

It’s been kind of a mixed bag. I think my greatest concern, or fear, or whatever you want to call it, has been triggering people’s transmisogyny, because they assume I’m a trans woman. I’ve had instances where I, like, went out partying and approached a guy, and then that guy found my Instagram. He saw my they/she/he pronouns, heard my voice. And then he was just like, You used to be a man. And we’re in the middle of a dance floor, I’m not giving him my entire gender history. At that particular club, I was with my sister and knew the security, so I knew I’d be safe if something went down, but it was scary. Dating in general is strange, intensely uncomfortable and scary. I just have to throw my entire story out there, because otherwise it’s like, what’s up with these chest scars? And you know, with single-sex spaces, I go to the changing rooms in the gym with my sister, because I’m scared that, if I speak a word, there will be a problem. Legally I’m still male and I have a traditionally masculine name, so I run into issues because of that, too.

When it comes to my friends and family, however, they’ve been really good. I’ve been so lucky. And I think it’s also because I’ve been so open about my transition and everything that went into it, that people were like, well, Lucy, we love you no matter what. It’s all good; if you want to detransition, that’s fine; if you want to retransition later, that’s also fine. There’s only one exception to that, and it’s my mum. She struggled a lot with my transition in the beginning, so it was quite hard to tell her. Even to this day, I think she still has issues with the fact I want to be a mother, in part because it will cost me a lot of money. So I waited until, like, four months on E to tell her, surprise, I’m your daughter again.

I also worry about certain expectations being put on me again, like the way I need to look, act, sound. But I feel like that’s kind of just being a woman in society, unfortunately.

Have you ever worried about coming out as detrans and unintentionally confirming people’s worst suspicions about trans people?

I find that the one way I combat this is, just by openly stating that this is my experience—I really emphasise that. If you want to take my story and run with it, I can’t really stop that. But I try to be really emphatic of my support for trans people, of my trans friends, even if it’s a little silly. Like, I still do the testosterone shots for my best friend, who’s a trans guy; I’m friends with trans girls; I’m still very much in community with trans people. When I say this so often, it might come across to other queer people as performative—but that’s the point, I need to do this performance when I talk to cis people who really don’t get it. For whom I’m just a confirmation of their worst instincts.

So what has being detrans been like for you in queer circles?

In my local communities in the Netherlands, because I’ve been involved with activism, it’s really fine as I’ve made a name for myself in being very pro-trans rights. Overall, it’s been good.

Were you involved in activism before you detransitioned, also?

I only really got involved in activism as a detrans person. Before that, I felt like there were so many people much more eloquent than me, people who already have huge followings—what could I possibly add to the conversation? But then, about six months after detransitioning, I found a tweet by Oli London [about detransition], and that was a catalyst. I thought, I need to do something about this. I figured that I could add way more to the conversation about being detrans and in community with trans people than anything else.

What would you say are trans people’s attitudes about detransition and detrans people?

I think it really depends on the age. I feel like, the younger you go, the more vitriolic the hatred towards detrans people. Young people and especially teenagers are very prone to black-and-white thinking. I think—and this is going to be controversial—that the trans kids who are incredibly vitriolic towards detrans people are the ones who are most likely to detransition later down the line, because they do not give any room for their doubts and might be reacting this way because they’re hiding something away. But generally, I’d say the older you get, the more someone has been in community with other trans and queer people, the more likely they are to look at your experience in a nuanced way. At least that’s what I observe with my followers. The only exception is—and I know this comes from a place of pain—some trans women who really hate detrans women, because they see it as squandering the gift of natural-born femininity. Like, you had this, I want it and I can’t have it—and you just threw it away.

When you describe your experience to trans people, do they recognise it as a detrans experience? Or is it usually the first time they hear something like that in regards to detransition?

I think it’s usually new to them in that context. I think the only detransition content they’ve encountered before was, let’s face it, Christofascist white nationalist content. Let’s just call a spade a spade. So the fact they’re hearing someone empathetic to trans people, who wants them to have adequate healthcare, job opportunities, everything—that’s new. They’re very quick to rip into certain well-known right-wing detransitioners, but when they respond to me with hate because I’m detrans and I just shrug it off, that kind of defangs it.

On a broader scale, would you say that detransitioning impacted the way you think about gender and sex?

Being a detrans woman just made me realise—it’s all the same thing. It’s always sexism, misogyny; it’s always hatred of the feminine, the unmet expectations of the feminine, failing to be a woman. I don’t understand how people like Chloe Cole and Prisha and whoever else can be like this, because you know they’ll treat you just the same as a trans woman. You’ll get lumped in when the chips are down. There’s so much more to gain in accepting gender fluidity, in community.

What would you say are the biggest challenges to detrans people right now?

I think it’s the fact that the organisations that have been founded supposedly to help us always have ulterior motives. For instance, I have a Brazilian detrans friend, and she complains to me it’s all very Jesus-saved-us there. I’m Australian, so I need to get all paperwork changes through the Australian government, and the only organisation that cares about detransition there is the LGB Alliance. Then you look at the US, and it’s Genspect. These organisations are usually Christofascist. So yeah, there’s never anything that offers a structured way of helping detrans people without that agenda. That would sort out your documents and your healthcare.

So what I’m surmising is, when detrans people need help with legal gender marker change or gender-affirming healthcare access, the only option they see available to them are those right-wing organisations?

Right. We need to take that power away from them.

I very much agree. Lastly, in your opinion, do detrans issues tie in with any broader issues right now?

I think a lot of the things relevant to detrans women tie in with general women’s issues. For instance, speaking as a detrans woman that has been sterilised, there’s reproductive healthcare. The Right has this chokehold on conversations of fertility; they talk about how you’ll never breastfeed, never have babies if you take T for too long, and so on. It’s about reproductive rights and control over everyone who has the capacity to bear children. And of course, there’s trans rights and the encroachment of transphobia. The Right wants to construct a very specific view of gender, of women, and in part they use detrans women to do that.

Lucy Kartikasari can be found over on TikTok, Twitter, Instagram, and Threads. She creates content about her transition and detransition as well as trans and detrans solidarity. Find her other links here.

[transbianmuffin]

Memories pt. 2

cw hopefully last transphobia, slurs, ptsd, bullism, death

********

[Sergeant] "Ok you bunch of pussies. In two hours we will make contact with the weed vessel. I want to see them burn. I want to know if they can scream and how high. No mercy, no POW. This is the day for which you've trained your whole life and..."

"Those wouldn't be POWs..."

[Frederick] "Oh my fucking god."

[Neil] "Told you that she wants to be fucked by weeds."

[Sergeant] "I'm sorry princess, my terminology doesn't appeal to your taste? You're right. Those weeds wouldn't be POWs. Those are fucking monsters that deserve to die."

"What I meant is that there is no war. They already won it...that's why we are the 'resistance' right?"

[Frederick] "Weed-fucker..."

[Sergeant] "You leave me no choice. You've crossed the line one last time, princess. You are exonerated from this mission. You will wait in the ship..."

[Frederick] "Yeah even because, can you imagine her actually shooting? She will start to cry and miss at best., if not hitting at us"

[Sergeant] "...and when we are back you can say good bye to your meds forever. I don't fucking care about the doctor's orders or whatever. I WILL make you a warrior. I don't care how much I have to BREAK you."

I don't care.

I hate you.

I hate you all.

We could be at peace and you strive for war again and again and again.

********

"Who would ever thought that those memories were so rooted within her that even Class-B would fail. I hope the variant that Psylocra gave me will work better."

"M- Mist..."

"Sleep my floret. Sleep. I'm here, everything is fine."

"I kil- I killed t-"

"Hush my beloved. You didn't do anything, those nightmares aren't real. You've always been with me, remember? I found you on a field of tulips and I've never left you. Now make your Mistress happy and sleep."

"I- happy... I goo- floret."

"You are the best floret an Affini could ever wish for, Deena."

********

Smoke.

Smoke everywhere.

Mask.

Fuck fuck what did I do fuck fuck shit oh god oh god oh god

Air.

I need air.

I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die

...

...

...

Light?

Where am I?

An Affini what the hell god it's eerie I'm scared I'm scared fuck fuck fuck

"Hello little terran, do you remeber your name?"

"Y- yes, I'm Deena."

"Mh, this doesn't seem correct. Oh wait. Yes it is. Roots you terrans really have to format your documentation better.

If that's your actual name why is it's only stated in a footnote?"

"I- "

My god she's so tall towering imposing and her stare I'm scared fuck fuck fuck

"It doens't matter. Now little terran, I have a most troublesome situation for which I think your help would be extremely valuable and much needed. Would you want to help me untangle this little mistery?"

"W- where..."

"Where are you? Oh yes, sorry. You are safe with us, with me. You have nothing to fear or worry about."

"..."

"I know that trust is a hard thing to concede for you little ones. So I'll introduce myself first and after that I'd love for you to do the same.

I am Sinea Chloratea, second bloom. I am a senior investigator officer for the Affini Compact dispatch in the Jupiter area. I don't mean any harm to you. In fact I find you extremely cute.

Your turn, dear."

"I- I am Deena. I am. I am. Scared."

"That's understandable, darling. Let me help you a bit here.

One day ago an unidentified terran vessel literaly crashed against one of our vessels.

A vessel which was carrying a very important scientist of ours. Now the terran vessel was more than expected. You are so cute when you think that our intelligence can't break through your, hehe, 'encrypted' communications.

Fact is that the vessel crashed against ours, we were expecting eight terrans, pretty well equipped trying to breach our hull and break in, but..."

"B-but?"

"But nothing happened. So, after a while, WE had to break in.

Now here's the funny part: a pretty thick smoke had oversaturated the inner cabin and we found seven corpses lying around.

All of them armed and presumably ready to attack.

We also found a curious amount of triggered smoke grenades.

Seven death terrans. We expected eight."

"Y-yes."

"Yes and we found the eight one. We found you lying almost lifeless, with a gas mask on. The only one with a gas mask on."

"I- "

"My dear, you seem pretty stressed. Maybe you want something to relax? Here, you can drink it if you want it. I promise it's nothing harmful, it will just... help with the memories."

Water?

No.

One of their drugs.

Don't care, I'm probably already dead.

I'm thirsty at least if I'm dying I will be high as fuck.

"Yes, good girl. Now I would love to hear this story from your point of view. Could you do that for me?"

Dizzy I feel so dizzy I must tell her no she's an Affini I must she seems so kind so kind finally kindness finally finally finally peace

"I killed them I killed them all they were cruel with me I never wanted to join them but I was an orphan I had nowhere to go and they took me in they treated me bad so I killed them I killed them all they wanted to kill you but I killed them I- I- I- I want kindness."

"Kindness? Oh I can certainly provide that. Stars you poor thing went through a lot. You don't deserve that, as cute as you are. You did good in telling me, you've been a good girl."

A good girl yes thank you thank you thank you finally kindness finally kindness

"Now, you're doing a wonderful job here, dear.

Unfortunately I need a last bit of information.

We understand that your vessel, well, former vessel central command control was connected to a bigger intranet. We could break the encription key but it'd take at least a couple of days and it's all wasted time, I think you can understand that.

"Yes. You need the key."

"I don't really need it but I'd like to not waste time, and besides it will prove that you truly are a good girl. A very cute one, I may say."

I am a good girl, yes yes thank you thank you thank you good girl I am a good girl

"The oldest one the Sergeant he had an implant behind his left eye that implant contains a genetic password that will grant you access to the rebel intranet I know it please please please tell te- sorry it's a bit hard to think straight.."

"Tell what?"

Tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl

"..."

"My dear you're safe here, you can trust me, tell what?"

"T- tell me I'm a good girl."

"Oh sweetie. You are the goodest of the girls."

"..."

"Are you crying? Dirt, you are so extremely cute. Now you've sustained pretty big injuries to both your respiratory and limbic system. Nothing we can't take care of obviously and we will take care of you. Great care of you. You'll need some more time resting here in the xeno infirmary..."

"Th- thank you."

"...no need to thank me, little one. It's me who's thanking you. You've been so good.

I was saying: when you're done here would you mind to spend some time with me? I'd love to show you around our main vessel."

"Yes, yes please."

"Such a good girl. Rest now, soon we'll be together again."

Finally kindess finally peace

********

[buckysgirl27]

Off To War

Part Six

40s Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are married in the 40's. Hydra captures Bucky and commands him to eliminate them. Can he do it? What will happen to future Bucky with this new information.

Trigger Warnings: Character death, ANGST (for real this part was DIFFICULT to write)

A/N: Thank you for all the love❤️ it's kinda short. sorry. I've been really busy guys😭

Masterlist

You may as well have died yourself. When Steve brought you the news again you thought he was messing with you.

"This isn't funny Steve."

He didn't laugh.

"It's not a joke. I saw it myself. I couldn't do anything. He fell before I could get to him."

The tears fell before you could stop them.

"It should have been you." You said coldly and slammed the door in his face and walked to your room, threw yourself on the bed and sobbed.

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

Flashback

Bucky looked at the map that Steve had pointed out a few locations on. Steve knew he didn't want to be there but this was kind of ridiculous.

"C'mon Steve, is this really necessary? The boys have already got everything all mapped out and some of them have even started scouting the joints by the sound of it."

Steve rolled his eyes. Of course this was necessary. How was it not necessary to stop Hitler's science division? He crossed his arms against his chest and gave Bucky a stern look.

"Of course it's necessary Buck. It'll be a quick mission. In and out. They won't even know we're coming."

Bucky looked at Steve apprehensively.

"Fine. But let's hurry. I feel guilty leaving her the 2 weeks I already have."

Steve rolled his eyes again.

"She's fine Buck. She wrote to you right? She said she's fine."

"Yeah. Yeah you're right."

Three days later they found themselves on a mountain top waiting for a train.

"This isn't payback for dragging you to that roller coaster on Coney Island right?"

Steve laughed.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

~~~~~~

Steve shook himself out of the memory. His last good one with his best friend. The rest was just a fight, which normally would be a fun and exciting thing, but not this time.

He did feel a little guilty. He shouldn't have dragged Bucky back. He should have let him go back to you when he wanted to.

Steve turned around and slid his back down the front door to your home. He too was lost.

He allowed himself a few minutes to pull himself together and then he left. Unable to leave any type of memory of Bucky behind him.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later you were doing the dishes in the kitchen. You had let them pile up and had almost no clean ones left.

There were 2 plates and the only cup that was left was James' coffee mug which you vowed to never use again. It was his after all.

You sunk your hand into the soapy water and cut your hand on a knife.

"Shit!"

Of course you cut yourself. Everything was going sooo smoothly, why wouldn't you hurt yourself.

At least at your doctor appointment a few days ago everything was okay. You were worried about that. You hadn't eaten anything for the first week since Steve had come to the house with the news.

You remembered what you and Bucky had talked about the day he came home the first time you thought he died.

You had starved yourself, stuck in a depression causing a miscarriage and he blamed himself for it. You had decided you wouldn't do it again. Yes, he most likely wouldn't be coming home this time but you now had a piece of him growing inside of you. He'd still always be with you. Maybe the baby would have his bright blue eyes, or the adorable sm-

The sound of the front door being smashed open exploded in your ears.

You ran to your room. There was no way in hell you were going to check and see which Nazi spy was going to kill you. Possibly.

But you weren't that important? Why would they.

You brushed off the thought as you tried to carefully shut the bedroom door.

You ended up slamming it.

With your massive globe of a stomach there was no way you could fit under the bed. You sighed. The closet it was.

You hunkered down in the smallest ball you could possibly could and waited.

Maybe they would skip over this room?

You heard footsteps start coming down the hall.

Maybe they were looking for Bucky.

The person who the footsteps belonged to smashed into the room Steve used to sleep in.

You flinched.

The footsteps reached just outside the door to your room. This time though. You heard the door knob being softly opened. Like they knew you were in here. Like they were trying to sneak up on you.

And they were.

The only reason you knew they even started coming into the room was because you heard the door creak as the person started to shut it. You heard it stop quickly after the beginning of the creak. You're glad James never got to fixing that squeak. You could prepare yourself.

You could hear the now soft footsteps slowly getting closer and closer until they reached in front of the closet. You could see the bottoms of the shoes through the space between the floor and the door.

You held your breath.

It didn't help. The door was yanked open and you were face to face with,

"James?" You practically screamed.

You sat there in shock. Trying to take in all of him. He looked at you confused. Why would he look at you confused? Your eyes landed on his arm. Why the hell did he have a metal arm?

But as quick as the confusion was there it was gone. He shook his head aggressively, like he was trying to quiet a loud noise only he could hear.

You got to your feet and slowly took a step towards him. As you did he took a step back.

He stared at you blankly and said in a gravely voice,

"I am the Winter Soldier and you are my mission."

Before you could question anything you saw the gun in his hand raise to your face. You heard the shot and the world went black.

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

A week later Steve came by to check on you. What he wasn't expecting was the smashed in front door, nor the smell of death permeating your once clean and tidy home.

He crossed the threshold and followed the smell.

He paused when he realized it was coming from your bedroom.

That had always been your safe haven. Your place. Only you and Bucky had ever been in there. He didn't know and didn't even know where to begin to imagine what it looked like.

He opened the door and was hit with the putrid stench.

He looked around to see that the room was still fairly clean.

The bed was made. There was a pile of folded clothes that needed to be put away that was sitting on the bed but he figured you were going to be doing that soon.

He looked over a little more towards the opposite side of the bed and that's when he saw a foot sticking out from the other side.

He gulped. He had seen plenty of dead bodies. So many it was concerning that he was comfortable around it. But this? He didn't think he could do this. As much as he didn't like you, you were still his best friend's pregnant wife. How could that not churn anyone's stomach?

He rounded the corner and his stomach dropped.

He made his way to you. You were starting to rot where you had been shot. Tears had started to run down Steve's face. He was going to be an uncle. Not by blood but an uncle none the less.

He should have stayed with you. This wouldn't have happened if he insisted on staying with you.

This was all his fault.

~To be continued~

@goth1c-pinki3-pi3

@svtbpbts

@homiesexual-or-homosexual

@baw1066

@theflowerswillbloom

@lil-riddle-kiddle

@lapii

[calaisreno]

Diagnosis

974 words / Prompt: Night / CW: Sad

After, I stayed at Baker Street as long as I could, but every morning that I woke up and found him gone plunged me into darkness. Everything reminded me. 

When I couldn’t sleep, I walked. I could never escape the memories, though. If I did sleep, they were there, waiting for me. 221B was full of memories, lacking him. At night, walking was better than lying in bed, sleepless, with the past. 

Sometimes at night I saw him. Wherever I walked, he would eventually appear, waiting in a doorway, sitting on a bench in the park. Without speaking, he would fall in step with me.

“You must be a vampire,” I told him one night. “I only see you after dark.” 

Vampires are not real, he said. 

“Are you real?” I asked. 

I could almost hear him smiling. You didn’t invent me.

Once I asked him if he would come home with me. He didn’t answer. 

I drank during the day, walked at night, and thought about going back to work. 

I slept in his bed. Even to myself, I seemed crazy. I thought about dying.

After a month of this, drinking and walking, it came to me that I had to leave. Mrs Hudson was lovely, but it was impossible for me to explain it to her, so I just left a note, promising to stop in at some point and pick up my things. 

I waited until night, took my bag and slipped out the door like a thief. As I looked back, I saw a tall figure in a Belstaff coat following me.

I’d travelled back in time to a depressing bedsit. To a life where Sherlock didn’t exist, where those few months at 221B were something I’d dreamed. 

The first day I returned to work at the hospital, a few people stopped me to offer polite condolences. I thanked them, saying the same empty things over and over. After a couple days, nobody reminded me that he was dead and I was alone. On my way home I bought more liquor. Vodka this time, since it didn’t leave much odour on the breath.. 

 Like a sleepwalker, I trudged along for weeks, not sure where I was heading. Life was just eating and sleeping, taking the bus to work and coming home, watching the telly, smiling at people, saying meaningless things. 

At night, I walked in a liminal space where he might still exist.

“This patient came in,” I told him one night. “Five years old, high fever, skin peeling right off his palms, bright red eyes.”

He glanced at me, intrigued. Diagnosis? 

“Kawasaki disease. Never saw a case before.”

What tipped you off?

“When he stuck out his tongue and I saw how swollen and red it was, I remembered reading about that and it all just clicked together.” 

Satisfying when that happens, he said, nodding.

He seemed as restless as I was, and began turning up in places I didn’t expect. There were always the all-night convenience shops, and if I had something to pick up he would follow me inside, just out of eyeshot, reminding me to get the biscuits he liked, recommending jams that I might want to try. What about these chocolate biscuits? Or maybe the ones with apricot filling. 

Sometimes he was there in the A&E, making observations and acting bored when I ignored him, as I had to. “Can’t have people thinking I’m losing my mind, talking to people who aren’t there,” I muttered.

I heard him scoff. No, we can’t have that.

But usually I only saw him when I wasn’t working. When I arrived at my sad little flat after work in the early morning, he would be leaning on the door, waiting for me. Almost every day I had a story for him, a new case to describe. He asked odd questions: Did you look at his fingertips? Did his breath smell like ammonia? Did she have freckles, not the usual kind, but darker? Did her skin look waxy? 

He’d always said, People see, but they do not observe. As I examined my patients, I tried to use his eyes to observe the things that might solve the case. And gradually I realised that I’d become the go-to doctor for bizarre diagnoses. The Sherlock Holmes of Barts Hospital.

Impressive, Dr. Watson, he said. You’ve become quite the detective. 

“You taught me,” I said. “It was from you that I learned to see everything differently. As you always say, the world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance observes.” 

He smiled but said nothing. Though he loved receiving compliments, he was stingy in his praise of others. Once he’d praised something, there was no need to say it again just so my ego could bask in it. 

At other times, he was critical. You’re rotting your brain, he said one afternoon when I got out of bed and looked at my bloodshot eyes. You have talent — why are you doing this to yourself?

I didn’t point out that he had often rotted his brain with worse things. He had more or better brain cells, I suppose, and often needed to slow his mind down just to keep it from crashing out of exhaustion. 

But he was always more solicitous of my health than of his own. He scolded me now. You’re not taking care of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m really fucked up and I don’t know what to do about it. I miss you so much.”

I felt, rather than heard his chuckle. Try to remember all the things that used to annoy you. Try to remember what a prat I was.

“You weren’t,” I told him. “You were wonderful. I love you.”

The room was silent. When I looked up, he was gone.

[persistence-and-adaption]

I never hear about anyone talking about how mild chronic pain creeps up on you.

When I was young and it hurt, it's dismissed as growing pain. So much I stop bringing it up. And eventually it goes away, so maybe they're right?

But it keeps coming back. Coming and going, slowly building pain tolerance as I refused to use pain meds unless I couldn't hide it.

And the "normal" pains were mixed in. Cramps and side stitches from running, soreness from exercise, period cramps and ect... Of course period cramps were not normal, and I knew that, but they still seemed normal enough at the time. Complaining got me nowhere with it regardless. I was always told to wait and see if it went away, medication wasn't even suggested. I had to get it OTC myself, and restock it when we ran out. Although I hardly touched it because I was more concerned about the side effects than a level 5 pain at the time.

And so on it went. I can't even tell you when I was able to tell the abnormal pain apart from the rest. Or when it grew more common, louder than the rest. Perhaps after I moved out?

It's so funny, without even realizing it I've built my pain tolerance to the amount that I don't always even recognize when it's a general blegh feeling day or pain unless I take a pain med on a whim and it goes away. A sudden, "huh... I didn't think that would work."

Back pain, knee pain, joint pain, what kind of sick song is this? Like some pokemon collection I never wanted.

An ache here, a pain there. Ignored, not even treated, just pushed through and dismissed.

Until slowly, eventually, it gets to a point it's always there, like background noise, more days than not. Relief when my back gets a break from it despite my knees being in more pain instead. Appreciating when each body part individually aches less than the others. Like some twisted +2 mood buff I'm not complaining about.

But then, how bad is my pain, really? compared to someone with none. Would they be able to move? Would they... Be able to sleep? Would stretching and moving about provide any relief to them at all? Or sitting down? I wonder how me from 10 years ago would feel with the body I have now.

It's all so strange. how the body adapts, even to the abnormal, to its own pain responses. I remember a doctor asking me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10, and I was surprised. My default answer was 0, but when I stopped and thought about it, at the time it was a 2. She asked me how I managed it, and I chuckled and said I forgot it was there.

Right now? I can't forget it. It's little pop rocks under my skin around my joints going off, like the candy except less pleasant. You don't realize just how varied pain can be until you feel it every day. or, I didn't. I hope you never do realize.

I've broken 2 bones. I've shattered my nose, and I've broken my finger. My finger didn't even need Tylenol. My nose didn't need anything until after the surgery to fix it.

But I know what pain is concerning and what pain isn't because I live with it all the time. And the bone breaks sent me into shock both times, so I think that's my tell for 'hey that broke something'....

I don't think someone with chronic pain should ever be dismissed when they go to a doctor concerned about it. It happens too often. Even once is too often.

But yeah, it took me awhile to realize what I experienced was chronic pain. I was in denial about it partly because I didn't even understand it. I thought it was a lot worse than this. Chronic pain just has to be... Chronic. It doesn't have to be severe. It just has to be there more days than not. It doesn't have to be in the same place all the time. It can change how it feels, where it's at. But it's there most of the time, or all of the time. That's chronic pain.

You don't have to put up with it like I am. It's okay to get help. You're no more tough or macho for refusing to do things to reduce the pain. All you're doing is making yourself suffer more. there is no shame in pain relief.

Don't be upset with yourself if you get tired quicker than you used to before the pain, if you have a before. Pain is exhausting all by itself, it's like a leak in the gas tank, you won't go as far.

Being mad at yourself just takes more energy and it worsens your mental health. try to replace those judging thoughts with understanding ones. treat yourself when you can, even if it's a little thing like making your meal look a little more fancy.

[i-love-yoi]

A nice and positive S/O who takes antidepressants.

Darling, you are literally my breath of fresh air. My brain has been rotting so much lately from Mouthwashing (Hear me out on Swansea) and my "great" grades that I simply lost the strength to write anything and the craving for Omori for a while, but now, it has returned a little, and I will try to write a little more, but the key word is: try. Also, I apologize in advance for the mistakes, since I still use a translator to write posts, since I do not trust myself and my level of English, LMAO. And do not worry! I don’t really have any triggers for anything, and even if I do, I usually meet them, trying to work through them (Oh well, I just like to study myself, in any case, I have already worked through most of them), so I will take your request anyway! To put it simply, I do everything except illegal or romanticized things (Example: Pedophilia (adult Character x child reader), zoophilia, Yandere romanticization, necrophilia romanticization, drug romanticization, etc.). In any case, I will update the list. (Also, sorry for the delay, preparing for the New Year, etc.). I did not add Mari, because I think that in the dream world, it is unlikely that Omori had anyone suffer right in front of him. But if necessary, I will make her separately. Merry Christmas from Russia! (We still have 3 hours and 24 minutes until Christmas)

Characters: RW Omori gang (Hero, Kel, Sunny, Basil, Aubrey.)

TW: GN! reader, antidepressants, diagnosed depression, romantic relationships, action takes place after Mari's death, foul language, drug references.

Hero

•Well, you must have strong antidepressants, since Hero didn't notice any hints of depression in you at first.

•It would seem, how could he not recognize his comrade in misfortune?

•Of course, after Mari's death, he fell into obvious depression of the 3rd or 4th degree.

•He didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't even wash, he simply didn't have the strength.

•He didn't have the strength for anything, but the incident with his younger brother Kel made him at least try to rethink his condition and his thoughts a little.

•He was a fucking egoist, thinking that he was the only poor and unhappy one here.

•But he wasn't alone.

•Mari's parents, her brother, their friends, he wasn't the only sufferer here.

•So Hero tried to get out of the endless pit of despondency and depression, without a psychotherapist and magic pills.

•But it is almost impossible to get rid of depression, you can only hold it back for a while or run away from it, but sooner or later it will come and take root in the brain if you do not return to proper treatment.

•He needed a goal, at least some kind of one, so that he could at least stay alive for something, so as not to hear all the thoughts that his brain sent.

•But what did he want himself?

•To study, and live his whole life with Mari.

•Can he do it?

•No.

•And what do his parents want?

•For him to become a successful doctor and be the pride of the family.

•That is the ideal goal.

•From that moment until now, Hero has been studying with all his might to become an excellent doctor, thanks to which he began to go into remission.

•That is when he met you, at that very moment.

•Sweet, kind, cheerful and funny, always sees the positive in everything.

•That is exactly how he saw you.

•If he started to remember, he could swear that you were always happy, because he had never seen any emotion on your face except joy and tenderness.

•Honestly, it was even scary, but Hero didn’t really notice it.

•Thanks to you, he crawled out of the web of despair and depression more intensively.

•But what he didn’t expect was that you would also be depressed, like him.

•But there was one thing that distinguished you: You were undergoing treatment, taking antidepressants and seeing a psychiatrist, and he was not.

•It happened completely by accident.

•He was visiting you at home while he was waiting for you to get ready for a walk.

•Your room was not the cleanest in the world, but it was clearly better than his room during that very period of depression.

•He was studying your room and accidentally stumbled upon something on your desk.

•Some kind of box with pills.

•He thought that these were vitamins, because it was autumn, and it was necessary to support immunity.

•But as soon as he read the text, his eyes widened in surprise.

•"Antidepressants. Sold only by prescription!"

•You were in the same situation as him, only you were undergoing treatment.

•How could he not notice this? He had been in the same situation just a couple of years ago!

•The eyes cannot see everything, and this means that the antidepressants worked very well and helped.

•He put the pills back, and as soon as you returned to the room, Hero hugged you tightly, pressing you to himself.

•Maybe you didn’t understand anything, but Hero didn’t care anymore.

Kel

•Kel is not the smartest guy, sometimes slow-witted, but clearly not a dumbass.

•Moreover, Kel himself is like that.

•He is always cheerful for others, trying to help everyone and reunite everyone, refusing to help himself.

•Maybe no one really cared about him and he was neglected, but this does not mean that he cannot care for others.

•Give what he himself never had.

•However, since he did not have it, his support and care can sometimes be... Awkward.

•Kel has not been able to choose his words correctly since childhood, speaking directly, and in general first speaking, and only then thinking and realizing that he yelped at all.

•Although, it is quite cute to watch him try.

•In general, for all the time he spent with you, he never once thought that something was wrong with you.

•Or maybe he didn't want to accept it.

•Can a rather cheerful and sweet person rot in bed while his brain rots through and through from terrifying thoughts?

•Of course he can.

•His jaw dropped when he found out that you were taking antidepressants.

•Honestly, he himself didn't really notice that you and he were quite similar in this.

•Yes, sometimes he gets sad, and very sad, but he wrote it all off to autumn, the weather, fatigue, anything but depression.

•Moreover, do you think that his parents would take him to a psychiatrist? Oh please.

•Moreover, he thinks that he doesn't deserve it.

•His task since childhood was to make everyone happy, well, that was in second place, of course, in first place was the task of growing up and being taller than his older brother.

•He won't stand on ceremony or choose his words like his older brother Hero.

•He'll ask directly, even if the topic wasn't about that.

•Then it's your choice whether to open up to him or brush him off.

Sunny

•I think Sunny would be the first to know about it, but he would keep quiet.

•He is always quiet and calm, but his ears work very well, as does his brain.

•He sees all the signs, but he keeps quiet.

•He sometimes sees your false lies in your smile, he sees how your eyes run away from him and how you try to hide your negative emotions from him.

•You can’t suppress emotions, no matter what, it can end very badly, he knows.

•In the world of dreams, he made you happy, the one who is already truly happy, the one who does not hide her negative emotions from him, sincere.

•He does not complain that you can hide your sadness and other negativity from him, he understands that you do not want to burden him.

•He believes that if you want, then you yourself will tell him everything and express it.

•You understand, he is not a telepath, he cannot read minds.

•Of course, he worries about you, he loves you after all.

•And to understand that you are simply rotting, and your brain is being eaten away by terrible thoughts, like a tumor, makes him feel sad and helpless.

•At first, he could only guess, but when he finally saw you taking antidepressants, everything fell into place and his guesses were confirmed.

•He will not say, he will never say anything, it is not his style.

•Moreover, unlike his best friend Kel, Sunny understands that this topic is quite delicate for you.

•He will pretend that everything has remained the same as before, but with small particles of care for you.

•He was in the same state as you, but he escaped into sleep.

•Sometimes he will help with household chores, somewhere he will hug, somewhere else he will show affection and care.

•Of course, you can only guess what is the reason for such increased affection from your boyfriend.

•But he will not say anything, he will remain silent.

Basil

•He probably wouldn't even think about it, and even if he did, he wouldn't fully believe it until you told him straight to his face.

•Honestly, he wouldn't even think about it, he was alone for so long, keeping a terrible secret to himself, carrying this burden only on his shoulders.

•Of course, he wouldn't even think about it, he would just enjoy you and your company.

•He would speak out to you, lying next to you, burying his face in your stomach, chest or shoulder and snuggling like a homeless kitten.

•Can you call him selfish? Yes, but is it his fault? He spent 4 years alone, and then suddenly a person appeared who loves him and is ready to listen to him.

•That's why he didn't even think about the fact that you might feel bad.

•As soon as he found out that you were actually taking antidepressants, you would know how ashamed he was.

•You felt so bad, and he was still complaining to you, burdening you.

•He just wanted to bury himself somewhere deep, hide from everyone.

•As soon as he finds out about this, his behavior will clearly change.

•At first, he will become clearly sad, of course, he will try to hide it, but it does a terrible job.

•He will clearly be all awkward, trying to help you with everything to get rid of the feeling of guilt, but because of the same feeling of guilt, he does not want to impose himself, and believes that he is not worthy of even looking at you.

•So you will immediately understand that something is wrong.

•But you will have to directly extort from him what happened, since he will not want to tell you everything.

•As a result, you will have to calm him down, and not he you.

Aubrey

•This is where it gets tricky.

•She's quite protective and aggressive.

•She's always ready to protect those she loves, and you're her top priority.

•She would have thought at first that you were just an innocent and cheerful person who needed to be protected from the rot in this world.

•The way you enjoy the little things, help others, and respond with kindness even to the most terrible insults.

•It all made her think that there are kind souls in the world who are untainted by anything.

•She was wrong.

•When she saw you taking some pills, she first thought that you were just sick, but then darker thoughts started to creep into her head.

•Honestly, she thought that you were just taking drugs.

•Well, that would have explained why you were always so cheerful and kind.

•In fact, she doesn't really trust cheerful and kind people, especially tactile ones.

•Thanks to her mother and other relatives, she has had the idea since childhood that all cheerful and kind adults are just drunks, ready to commit horrific acts for a bottle of vodka.

•Running up to you and grabbing your hand, she raised it, looking at you with anger and fear.

•And just as she wanted to yell at you, accuse you of everything possible, her gaze darted to the name.

•"Antidepressants."

•Antidepressants?...

•She was clearly in shock, in very strong shock.

•Not right away, but she let go of your hand, looking at you with distrust and surprise.

•She didn't even have words.

•What the fuck should she say!?

•All she could do was just come up to you and hug you tightly, pressing you to herself.

•She may not have had words, but she clearly had hands and the ability to touch you.

•Yes, she was not used to tactility, and she did not like it, but for your sake she was ready to step over herself.

[pingurusama]

End of (my) 2025

Hello, it's Pingu. It's been a while and it's been a long journey when i first started this Tumblr art account. I've met a lot of wonderful people here and i never been more grateful to had chance to made friends with people on my Tumblr, especially the CallOfDuty fandom ones. I remember i said i will be back on early January this year, i thought i was so positive about go back managing my art journey better.

But life said otherwise, unfortunately. Maybe from a few past of my life updates i was once mentioned about i'm taking care my mother, as i was the primary caregiver for her. Well, my mom didn't make it. She passed away on early february this year(2/2/2025) just 10 days after her birthday, after battling the illness for months, and had intensive medic care for almost two weeks. My mom, well, she's not hurting anymore, at least.

The doctor said it's between Blood Cancer or Aplastic Anemia, we haven't yet sure, but i think it was up to god to know what is really happening, we didn't have chance to know exactly what's wrong between the two, we were running out of time. I watched my mom (TW : Blood) bleeding from everywhere. Nosebleeds, blood coughs, bleeding under skin, excretion, her gums torn due low platelets count can't tie the blood cells so she prone to have open wounds/bruises on skin. For months. She has to take blood transfusion a lot, but it feels like filling a holed bucket. I still remember the last day, fresh still in my mind, playing back and forth like a broken tape. Doctor gives her CPR, no response, and declared her passing as her heart already stopping. But she was still breathing, i was hyperventilating calling her, like i don't know doc, do something? but yet again, maybe mom want to rest. When us moving hospital she's already stressed, her heart rate was up to 200 bpm, she doesn't eat anything since her digestion bleeds and not capable to digest food, but she keeps excreting. Her last request was a cold bottle water, since it was pretty hot that day. I give it to her, we talked a lot about future. What food she wants to eat when she's out of hospital, when she's better, how she wants to move out from the house and rent place with me, her dreams to open restaurant of her favorite dish specialty. She mentioned about how she used to fear death, she wasn't anymore, but she was sad of the illness. Everything was fine until comes the blood vomit. Her condition drops drastically as we are still waiting to be transferred to the HCU room for 7 hours. All of that yet, my mom still manage to smile everytime she saw me. She mentioned about how she's tired, she's feeling tired, and i told her to rest, "it's okay just rest mom, we will be in the room soon". (well, i don't mean it for forever, though/j) and she's just smiles and nods, trying to sleep. We made it into the HCU room, and everything seems slowly getting better -or so what i thought. I get to see and talk to her the last time when she was on the HCU, she was asleep but the doctor told me to wake her up. so i did. I asked if she feels any better and she said yes, it feels a lot better. "Okay, just rest, okay mom?" (bro takes it literally and seriously/j) 2 AM in the morning and she was gone. But she was sleeping when she passed away, I hope she passed in peace, she looks just like sleeping, smilling even... I bathed her for the last time, funny how when i combed her hair i remember yesterday morning i still do the same, i told her to tell me if it's pull, but that morning i can't told her the same thing anymore. My mom's gone, for like, forever. So yeah, i vanished and grief. It's been 4 months, it gets easier but it doesn't get better, to be honest. The painful memories keep surfacing back and forth everyday, at some point i even asked about the existence of my mom, she was here yesterday suddenly she wasn't, was she really existed in the first place? I stop asking myself about that because it chipped my sanity, tbh. I don't have desire to live and thrive anymore honestly. It's "what the hell, sure" everyday for me. Maybe it needs more time, maybe... The only thing i want now is to have my own place, and to be at peace. Funny thing, I can still functioning like an adult, i worked on comms, i made art, i went to con. Maybe i just try to live with it, adapting, because what else to live the life's given? Last word, i'm so sorry for vanishing from lots of social media. Sometimes it's hard for me to maintain a lot of stuff, i can only maintain my twitter & discord (and its not even everyday update) My intention of this post is just for honest update of what's going on of me gone for almost a year. I'm sorry for a lot of unanswered dms. I missed my friends, i missed a lot of people here and i really want to reconcile... I hope one day i can fully back and learning how to peace with the grief. Until then, please take care of yourselves guys^^ - Pingu

[spookydanamulder-multifandom]

hi! i've written another chapter of my hunger games fafic and i'm just gonna leave it here and hopefully wait for some kudos hehe

it's my variation on "so after" moment (it's kinda spicy)

you can also read it on ao3

fandom: the hunger games

katniss everdeen/peeta mellark

summary: Katniss and Peeta are roommates now, doing their best to heal and bond. And, oh boy, do they bond...

rated: M/E

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

I wake up from the nightmare. Again.

There was a time when my dreams became less vivid, but lately, they’ve intensified. Sometimes I’m scared to fall asleep.

I glance at the clock—it’s almost 3 a.m.—and head toward the door. I need Peeta. Luckily, he’s my roommate now, so I don’t have to look far.

Peeta moved in with me two weeks ago, after our latest mental breakdowns, and it was the best idea ever. It’s so much easier to live with someone in a house this big than to live alone. We clean together, we cook together—things I could never motivate myself to do on my own. And it’s wonderful to have him so close. We spend a lot of time together, and it really helps my mental health, which definitely needs improving. We finally have time to bond in a normal environment. I can safely say we’ve become best friends. Haymitch laughs at us and doesn’t believe there’s nothing more than friendship between us—but it’s true.

Of course, sometimes it’s hard. Like when I think about his lips—and I do that often. Or when I catch a glimpse of him shirtless. I’m only human, I tell myself. We’re just the bestest of friends. Sharing a bed occasionally—strictly innocent, of course. We did share a kiss once, a long time ago in the house by the lake, but I guess he forgot about that. We were desperate, and it was strictly platonic. Hot, but platonic.

I head to his room—which used to be my mom’s—but notice light coming from the kitchen downstairs. I decide to go there instead. He probably woke up too. That’s just how it is in this house: one of us is always up.

The sketches are incredible. His parents and brothers—just like in the photograph.

“Hey. I couldn’t sleep,” he says with a smile. How does he always manage to smile at me?

“Hey. If you had a nightmare, you could’ve come to me.” I sit down at the table next to him and take a sip of tea from his cup.

“I haven’t even had a chance to have a nightmare. I didn’t sleep at all.” Peeta gets up and pours me some fresh tea. “What about you?”

“I had a bad dream and wanted some company.”

“Always happy to help, roomie.” He winks at me. I hate when he does that because I never know how to hide a blush. Why am I acting like some stupid teenager—after all the things we’ve been through?

“Thank you, roomie,” I laugh. “What have you got there?” I nod toward the notebook under his arm.

“Oh, nothing interesting. Just some drawings of my family. I’m trying to draw them from memory.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure.”

“This is beautiful, Peeta,” I say from the heart, giving him a comforting smile. We rarely talk about his family. He didn’t know for a long time what exactly happened to them, and he’s still not ready to talk about it. Every time we pass the remains of his bakery, he looks away.

“Thanks. I want to draw every person we’ve lost. I couldn’t save them, so I want to save the memory of them.”

“It’s a great idea. Maybe we can write something about them. Like our plant book, but with…”

“With people.” When he says it out loud, it sounds a bit silly, but I’d love to have something like that. Just to remember our loved ones.

“Yes. We don’t have a photo album, so it could work.”

“Let’s do it then. That way we’ll have something to keep our minds busy, too.”

During the call, I tell the doctor about our idea for a memory book, and he’s very pleased. He says it will help us gather our thoughts and that he’s proud we came up with something like this. It means we’re ready to heal. He even promises to send us some paper and painting tools.

We nod in agreement, pleased with ourselves. We finish our tea, heads buzzing with thoughts. Strangely, they’re pleasant ones—about the people we knew.

We sit in the kitchen until the first rays of sun reach our tired eyes. In the morning, we go to our beds for a little nap. During the day, nightmares aren’t as common. I have a scheduled call with Dr. Aurelius at noon, and I need some sleep beforehand—those conversations are usually exhausting.

A few days later, we start our project. It feels like old times, back when I had a broken ankle and we’d sit in my room all day drawing and writing. Those weren’t good times, but I find some comfort in remembering them. It was the first time we did something together that wasn’t for the show.

Days go by, and our book fills with memories. We laugh, we cry, we reminisce.

Peeta still works in town until late afternoon, and when he’s not working, he bakes. He’s the only baker in our District, so he has a lot to do. Sometimes I help, but I don’t have much patience for baking—it’s usually easier for everyone if I stay out of the way. I usually spend that time with Haymitch, trying to convince him to participate in our little project or I hunt. Sometimes Delly comes by, and we hang out together. She sews, and I try to knit.

After all the work is done, we have the evenings to ourselves. When the weather is nice, we sit in the garden—I write, and Peeta draws. When we get tired or overwhelmed, we go for walks. I’ve never felt this good in anyone’s presence. Sometimes I feel a pang of regret that I didn’t notice Peeta before everything went to hell.

Spending time with Gale was nice—he was my best friend—but being with Peeta is a completely different experience. He’s sweet, and now that I know him better, I feel like I can be more myself than I ever was with Gale.

The only thing worrying me in this situation is the feeling growing inside me. Every time Peeta smiles at me, my heart melts, and it’s getting worse every day. It’s even worse when I catch a glimpse of him changing his clothes or working shirtless in the garden.

On Sunday, we go to the lake. It’s September, but the days are still hot. It’s a long walk, but worth it. It doesn’t look like it will rain today, so hopefully we’ll be home before dark. Not that I mind spending the night by the lake again...

We settle on a wooden jetty, dipping our feet into the cool water. Peeta closes his eyes and enjoys the sun. When he sits like this, I have a chance to shamelessly look at him. His hair is longer now, framing his handsome, tanned face with blonde waves. His freckles are more visible than ever because of all the work outside. It suits him. He looks healthier this way.

I wonder how he sees me. I rarely look in the mirror, but when I do, I’m not happy with what I see. My hair is much shorter because I had to cut off all the burned strands. I still have a scar on my forehead from the feast at Cornucopia. It’s hardly visible, but I can see it—and I hate it. I’ve gained some weight since Peeta came home from the Capitol. That’s the only thing I’m happy about. He feeds me all the baked goods, and I have more of an appetite these days. There’s generally more food for all citizens now. Most people still struggle with poverty, but it’s nothing compared to what was before.

The water is very tempting, and I really want to go in, but I can’t bring myself to take off my clothes. My whole body is covered in scars, and I don’t want Peeta to be disgusted by the view. I haven’t taken care of my scars like he did with his, so most of them are still red. I look like a patchwork.

“You know what?” Peeta snaps me out of my thoughts, and I quickly look away from him.

“Huh?”

“I feel like swimming. It’s so hot.” He says, getting up with a bit of struggle from his artificial leg.

“But you can’t swim.” I laugh.

“You taught me once; you can do it again.” He takes off his shirt, then his pants, standing before me in his boxer shorts. Shit.

“Well, I see you’ve already decided. But if you drown, I’ll kill you.”

“Deal.”

Should I... take off my clothes? What do I do?

He tries to swim, but his leg pulls him down, so he has to hold onto the wooden pillars. It doesn’t stop him from fooling around. He grabs my feet and tries to tickle them, then splashes me and does pull-ups on the jetty.

“Go on! I can watch you from here.” I feel stupid—he’s not ashamed to show me his body, and I can’t do the same.

“Noooo. Come on, it’ll be fun. You need fun!”

“Peeta, I don’t feel very good. I’d rather stay here, okay?”

“Okay.” He’s not the kind to want me to do something I don’t want to do myself.

He jumps off the jetty, and the water splashes all over me. I laugh, then grow concerned because Peeta’s not coming back to the surface. I hope he’s just joking, but I’m ready to jump in anyway.

“Hi!” Suddenly, he pops out, splashing even more water.

“Not funny!” I try to look angry, but I can’t hold back a smile.

“Now you’re just showing off.”

“Maybe.” He grins and winks at me.

I roll my eyes and try to act indifferent, but I actually really like watching him do pull-ups.

After a while, he gets out of the lake. He looks so stupid—hair dripping, wet boxers clinging to his body. He puts on a t-shirt, which immediately sticks to him, outlining his muscled torso. Very stupid.

“Katniss? Hello? Are you listening to me?”

“What?” Somehow, I got distracted.

“I asked if we should be getting back.”

“Yes, I think so. Let’s go.”

We wait until the sun is completely gone, leaving only orange and grey clouds behind, then go home.

We head back home and step out of the forest just as the sun sets. We stand for a while on the edge of the woods and watch the sun hide behind the mountains.

“It was a good day.” I say, resting my head on Peeta’s shoulder.

“I enjoyed every bit of it, honestly. I needed a day like that.”

“Yes, me too. Thank you for it.” Oh, I enjoyed some things a little too much.

“It was your idea to visit the lake, actually.”

“But you came with me, so thank you.”

“Anytime, roomie.”

We eat supper while watching the news on TV. I hate watching TV, but I want to know what’s going on in the Capitol and other districts. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up with all the changes and the new government.

“I can’t wait for the first free election,” Peeta says with his mouth full of porridge. He says exactly the same thing every day.

“Me too, but we all know Paylor will be our new president. She really carries out her duties, and everyone thinks she’s a good candidate.” I’m not that into politics, but the idea excites me. And by choosing a new president as good as Paylor, everyone will forget about Coin…

“I know she’ll win, but the very idea of having a chance to vote? Wow.”

“Yeah, wow.” Sometimes I forget we had our roles in the way things look now. Of course, I’d rather forget, but watching the news every night doesn’t help.

“I’m going to bed. I’ll clean the dishes in the morning.” I decide and head upstairs.

“I’ll do it in a minute. I want to watch some more of the news. Goodnight, Katniss.”

“Goodnight.” I wave to Peeta and disappear into my room. I take a quick shower and don’t even know when I fall asleep.

Without thinking, I get up from my bed and run to Peeta’s room. He’s asleep, but when I come closer, he opens his eyes. He’s a light sleeper.

At first, I dream of Peeta. Naked Peeta. Kissing me. In my bed. Why can’t I always have dreams like that?

Suddenly, Peeta disappears, and I feel a wave of panic. Instead of Peeta, there’s a heavy, cold mist covering me.

“Peeta? Peeta! Peeta!” I scream, but only in my dream. I wake with a sudden urge to find Peeta, trying to shake off the feeling of this horrible mist.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned.

“Can you hold me?” I ask, a bit shaken.

Peeta pulls back the blanket, inviting me into his embrace.

We lie in our usual position. My head rests in the crook of his arm, and he spoons me.

“I had a dream that I lost you. Please, don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t.” He murmurs into my hair, gently stroking it.

I don’t know what’s happening to me, but the feeling of his body being so close drives me crazy. The memories of him by the lake today flow through my mind, causing a funny feeling in my stomach.

I turn to face him. He meets my eyes with a warm smile. I move my face closer, and he brushes my nose with his. I glance down at his lips, and every kiss we’ve ever shared floods back to me. I can’t stand it anymore.

Finally, our lips meet.

“Peeta…” I whisper.

“Katniss…” he whispers back. Now he’s looking at my lips too.

“I need you.”

I tilt my head, giving him access to my neck, and he takes the opportunity. I can feel his hardness pressing against my leg, and it turns me on even more. I’ve felt him like this before, when we slept together on the train, but I always ignored it. I thought it was just natural. Of course, it is natural. But now it makes me want things I’ve never even let myself imagine.

The kiss is soft and searching at first, but it quickly grows hot and passionate. He cups my head in his hands, and I trace his jaw with my fingers.

I let my hands wander over his back, and he does the same. He breaks the kiss when he reaches just above my bottom. He looks at me, searching my eyes for reassurance. I just smile at him, and he grins teasingly.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into another kiss—this one fiercer, full of desire. I feel hunger building inside me, a hunger for more.

I pull up his shirt, and he takes it off. Now it’s my turn to take care of his neck. I shift my body so I can sit on his lap, and I feel the full weight of his desire. I kiss every exposed inch of his skin, occasionally returning to his lips.

I pause when he reaches for the hem of my shirt. The inevitable is about to happen. He reads my expression and asks gently:

We’ve seen each other at our worst, but to me, Peeta is so perfect that I feel like I can’t compare. The way he looks at me though—so full of love and tenderness—I can’t resist him.

“Is everything alright?” His voice is raspy.

“Yes, I just…” I rest my forehead on his chest, resigned.

“It’s so wonderful, all of this… And you’re so wonderful… I just don’t want you to be disgusted by my body,” I say quietly.

“Katniss, of course I won’t be disgusted. How can you even think that?” Peeta lifts my chin, his eyes tender. “You’re beautiful.”

“How can you know that? You haven’t seen my body. You don’t know how awful my scars are.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop right here. But scars or no scars, I already know—you’re beautiful.”

I lift my arms, allowing him to take off my shirt. Slowly, he pulls it up, and soon I’m bare before Peeta Mellark. He looks at me with a kind of admiration I never expected. He really thinks I’m beautiful.

He gently lifts me off his lap and lays me down, kissing my body. He traces each scar with his fingers, kissing them one by one. Then he moves to my breasts, cupping them—they fit perfectly in his palms.

Before moving lower, he meets my eyes again, silently asking. I take his hand and guide it there myself.

"You're perfect. Your body is perfect." He says and I don't know what to say, I'm not used to hearing compliments, especially in situation like this, besides I think I forgot how to even form words right now.

"Ever since that night by the lake, I can't stop thinking about you and the feeling of you on my lips."

"Really? I thought you forgot and I was going crazy thinking about it."

"I'd never forgot kisses like these."

I’ve seen naked men before—always wounded, desperate, in need of help. Nothing about it was exciting. Sometimes it was even repulsive. But Peeta’s body drives me wild with desire. I need him—right here, right now.

It’s not that I’ve never touched myself—I have, but always as a mechanical way to ease tension. It’s never been about pleasure. Not really. But when Peeta touches me like this, it’s like he’s awakening something I didn’t even know I was missing.

His fingers move slowly over my slick center, searching, learning, exploring me like I’m a secret he’s determined to uncover.

Quiet moans escape my mouth, and I can feel how much Peeta likes what he hears. I reach down to touch his arousal, and he kisses me fiercely.

“Katniss, I want you. I need you,” he murmurs into my mouth, like he’s reading my mind. I pull him closer, letting him settle between my thighs.

We stop kissing for a moment, our foreheads touching, tension thick between us.

“Can I…?” he asks, pausing just above me, eyes searching mine one last time.

“Yes. Yes, please,” I whisper, my voice pleading.

He holds himself back, reverent in the way he moves—like he’s afraid that any sudden motion would shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

My fingers tighten on his shoulders, and that’s all the permission he needs. Slowly, carefully, he presses into me. My breath hitches as my body yields to him.

When he finally enters me, it’s with a tenderness that steals my breath. There’s a moment of stillness—heat and tension mixing as my body adjusts around him, the world narrowing to just this feeling.

It hurts a little, and I gasp—more from wonder than pain. I like the feeling.

“Is everything alright? If I do something wrong, or cross a line, just tell me,” he says. He’s flushed and barely holding back, but he waits.

“Everything’s perfect. Don’t stop,” I whisper, smiling at him. I just want to feel him moving inside me.

My eyes flutter shut as he sinks deeper. Feeling him this close is overwhelming—more than I ever imagined.

We move together slowly, like time doesn’t exist. Every touch is a question, every breath an answer. There’s no rush. He explores me like I’m sacred, and I can’t tell where I end and he begins. Our sighs and moans grow louder as we draw closer to the edge. In the back of my mind, I hope Peeta remembered to close his windows tonight.

Suddenly he pulls out, and I feel warmth spreading across my stomach and thighs just as I cry out—from pure delight, from a feeling I’ve never experienced before.

Peeta hushes me with his lips, but he can’t stop his own moan. His head drops to my chest and we breathe together, heavy and warm.

We stay like this in a silence that says more than any words ever could.

After a moment, Peeta gets up and goes to the bathroom. He returns with a towel and helps me clean up. Then he comes back to my arms, and I run my fingers through his hair while he traces gentle circles on my arm.

We’re still speechless, so we just lie there, holding each other, wrapped in this beautiful moment. From now on, everything will be different.

“You love me. Real or not real?” he whispers after a while.

“Real,” I tell him.

[anexperimentallife]

Breathing a little easier, so the bronchitis is getting better, but had a rough night. See, I have a herniated esophagus, and unless I eat graham crackers or something similar to fill the cavity before taking pills, they often end up in there instead of in my stomach. Then I press a couple points a few times to get most of the graham cracker out of there.

When a pill DOES get stuck, I press the same points, but pills tend to be stickier, less flexible, and more prone to partially dissolving, so that doesn't always work. (It's especially nasty to get a fish oil capsule stuck there, because YUCK!)

Yeah, so anyway, last night I thought, "Oh, I'm too fucking tired for this. I'll just swallow these SEVEN PILLS very carefully, because the graham cracker is too much trouble. Surely I'll realize if anything gets stuck!"

Narrator voice: "But he did not, friends, realize when some of the pills got stuck."

So yeah, after a couple of hours of coughing and wheezing with no relief, I was finally like, "Oh, wait a minute," and did my little throat-pressy trick only to taste the bitterness of partially dissolved medication in the back of my throat.

So that's why @thesurestthing ended up getting up in the wee hours to heat up soup for me and bring me Pocari Sweat so that I could do the "swallow a sip, press on the throat spot" thing repeatedly until I got all of the medication slurry out of my medical anomaly.

Of course, by then my ribs and abs were sore from coughing (and friends, my abs are HELLA strong, so that took some doing), and I'm still messed up.

Someday things will stop happening, and I'll be able to afford to get that fixed.

Frustrating aside: I once tried to explain to a smug doctor how things (food, medication, etc.) get stuck at the hernia--WHICH I HAVE PICTURES OF FROM A CAMERA ANOTHER DOCTOR SNAKED DOWN MY THROAT--while the dumbass just kept repeating, "Pills don't really get stuck in people's throats; they just sometimes leave a lingering bitter taste on the way down--when that happens, eat a piece of banana and it'll go away." And I remember thinking to myself, "This guy clearly got his MD from the bottom of a Cracker Jacks box," and I never spoke to him again.

In the good news department, my fever is gone! Hopefully for good!

[mxflowercheck]

Adira&Tilly thing that was in my head for some time

Not beta read like AT ALL

- Hey there?

Tilly leans other a console to look at Adira. They’re curled up almost under it, hugging their knees and staring into nothing.

- Lieutenant Stamets and Doctor Culber won’t be pleased with you staying up late, you know, right? Maybe move to..somewhere they don’t work.

- You’re also staying up late - Adira mumbles, not looking up, but also not tensing or outright sassing Tilly off. That’s a good sign.

- I am, technically, not a crew member anymore. Just visiting while you’re docking. - she keeps her tone light, but allows longing to slip into it. Adira hates being belittled. - So they can scold me, sure, but…i have an escape route.

There’s a huff and then silence. Light, familiar rumble of ships systems. Tilly waits a minute, shifts uncomfortably and tries again.

- Wanna talk about it?

Adira silent for another minute, swaying back and forth a bit.

- Yes. Yes I do. - they look up, and here it is - the firm, determined stare, Adira’s signature. Tilly gives them a slightly awkward smile and sits near them, cross-legged.

- So? Venting? Gossiping? Both? One and then the other to get distracted? I can bring ice cream.

Adira giggles, still looking at the floor. Tilly can see now that their cheeks are still wet from tears. She doesn’t ask even though she wants to bury anyone who made their…well, sibling, feel like this.

- None, i guess? I…It’s about Trill. The symbiont. Gray. - they smile fondly at their boyfriend’s name. - It’s…hard.

- Yeah, i can imagine. I had a parasite in me once - not that Trill is a parasite, but you get the idea, something existing in you. Creepy as hell.

- You did? - their eyebrows shot up and they finally looked at Tilly. - W- How did *that* happen?

- Oh, long story. It’s how we got Hugh back! I tell you later. For now it’s about you - she pokes them with an elbow lightly, - not about me.

- Wow. Okay. - Adira giggles nervously, rubbing their neck. - Can i..can i ask? How did you understand you want to be a teacher?

- Pretty sure you were there. Remember? The arguing cadets, near-death experience?

- Yep, i do. - they scoffed. - I mean..after it? Like, you wanted to be a captain for years! How did you..

- Make that incredible leap? - Tilly smiles and sighs. - Will you throw a screwdriver at me if i give an inspirational speech?

- This time - no. But! - their raise a finger. - only this time.

- Okay, okay. - she laughs and leans back on the console. - I..I mean, when i think about it, I never wanted to be Captain. Shit, when Saru left me in charge..I thought I’d throw up even hours later. It was..awful. But being in charge of this group of cadets wasn’t. And i..at some point it hit me - my mom..my mom is not here. She won’t see me as a Captain. And suddenly it felt pointless. I..I didn’t want to be Captain, i wanted to prove I can. I wanted to be like famous Captains. But now…i have no one to prove this to. And i’m already brave and smart and loyal and- I can be that without being Captain. Maybe I don’t need to try to fit into these shoes, maybe I need shoes that allow me to be myself! To be Tilly. Because i want to be a lot of things I’m not. And maybe will never be. But i can be me.

Adira looks at her in silence, something mixed in their eyes. Sadness. Anger. Confusion.

- Firstly, it was actually very sad. Secondly, - they sigh, hiding their faces in their hands, - I don’t know who i am. What’s me and what’s Tal and what’s Gray’s memories. Where’s Adira. And who should i be? Like..you, you have a goal! You want to be a pretty good person. I want to.. - they stumble upon their own words, their hands shake a bit. - I don’t know.

Tilly moves closer to them, presses their shoulders together, wraps an arm around Adira, pulling them closer. Hugs always help, don’t they?

- You know what, I give up on speeches. How do you feel about a bit of music?

- Um. Fine, i guess? Why?

- There’s a song. - Tilly taps her badge, summoning the holo-PADD. - Really old. Like, it was old even in our time. But i love it, and it kinda has the message I’m trying to get to you.

She doesn’t scroll for a long time - the songs is almost on top of “recently listened”. Tilly opens the text and presses play.

I wish I was big, as big as my house

I'd sleep on the trees, I'd skip every crowd

But I wouldn't fit on my therapist's couch

God, I could really use him now

I wish I was God, I'd never trip up

And if I did, well, so fuckin' what?

I could be cruel and break all your stuff

Yeah, I'd be loved no matter what

But if I was God, it'd get kinda weird

'Cause you would only say what I wanna hear

And then you would die, you'd love me to death

I'd never know who the hell I am

I wish I was me, whoever that is

I could just be and not give a shit

Hey, I'll be whatever makes you a fan

'Cause I don't know who the hell I am

Adira listens attentively and soons gets what Tilly wanted to say. For reason it feels…gut-wrenching. It feels right. It feels like their scream, their words. They don’t notice tears running down their face. They cry shamelessly, but smile broadly, and Tilly pulls them into a tight hug, her curls everywhere, blocking the world around.

- The point is…does it matter, who you are? It’s you, Adira. And you have Paul, and Hugh, and me, and Gray.

- I can just be and not give a shit - they laugh through tears, hugging her back.

- Exactly.

[serinoodles]

Pulse; Off Key.

Where you get to fight the echo of a life you never lived.

Notes: Read on ao3. Warnings/Tags: f! reader.

Chapter 1: Confusion.

I have always been a cranky person, in an insufferable way... I used to harm others a lot, not intentionally but that's who I am! I act intrusively and care less about the consequences, I am not responsible for their sensitive hearts, we live in harsh world anyway, they should get used to it.

I am never used to the feeling of guilt, so I will ignore that feeling in my heart for now. I am no good to anyone but to my loved ones, like Kim Jun-hee.

I love saying her whole name, not to be formal or anything, but it gives me such a beautiful feeling, I mean saying it and stopping a each part for a second...

Kim~ Jun~ hee~, I love her.

~

''What do you mean you are feeling weird?'', asked my friend Dae-ho while I sighed on the other line of the call, massaging my forehead. I peeked at my feet resting on top of my desk, I raised my eyebrows in confusion looking at my grey socks, I felt horrible!

''Grey is a good color, what could be wrong with it?''

''We were talking about weirdness, who brought up the subject of the grey color?''

I chuckled at myself, ''Ah- you know, it's about Jun-hee. I don't feel that rush and excitement when I see her anymore, I don't feel like I want to hug her the same as before''

''Are you joking? what a disaster!''

Irritated, my eyebrows frowned to his sarcasm. ''I am talking seriously so take me seriously! How could you 'love' someone you don't feel excited about seeing? not miss them nor you feel in heaven around them?''

''You love me, but do you feel that towards me?''

I rolled my eyes, ''I will hang up''

''Wait, wait! I was joking. Your relationship with Jun-hee is perfect, so be sure of what you are feeling, it could be just a normal phase of boredom, aren't you supposed to go through all of that to make sure that it is real love?''

''These are too much feelings to process, so I won't believe any of it, I'll just sleep it away''

''be careful'', his tone serious yet playful.

''I said I'll just ignore it, not that big of a deal''

''Wish you a weird night'', he hung up after he spoke.

Weird? Why weird? I stood up, looking at my socks again. Everything is really weird!

~

''What do you mean we ran out of mango juice? How am I supposed to have my meal? What is that? Orange juice!''

''Lee Myung-gi! Maybe you should consider trying to look better for you to deserve some attention from Jun-hee, stay away''

''I made these cookies for you, I think I am falling for you.."

''Sorry, I am not into fake blondes, Move. Or maybe stay that way, you are shielding me from the sun''

My vision becomes blurry, bit by bit it gets clearer, white, that's all I see. I realized I could be still in the hospital to make sense of the white I see.. I fully opened my eyes after starting to get a grasp of the reality, I saw her sitting next to my bed, holding my hand with a smile on her face. Her silky short black hair framing her crying face, but she does not look sad. I smiled at my Jun-hee, trying to speak.

''What happened?''

''The doctor said that the transplant was successful, your body accepted the new heart''

I smiled faintly looking at her, it is not the right time to think about any possible complications or the donor who gave me their heart to live with. I just smiled because of the idea that I get to live longer by her side.

My gaze wondered around the hospital room to see my mother, sister, my friend and other relatives, I hate these moments so I just pretended to be asleep.

~

I sat on my bed after remembering my first interaction with Jun-hee, I was just released from the hospital after I spent a whole month in there so it is normal to remember such things.. I feel confused, I shouldn't be thinking much, 'I miss my bed'.

I thought while laying on my beloved bed, and since spring has just came by, the weather was still chilly with some cloudy days. I decided to sleep without a blanket so I could enjoy this lovely weather.

I took a glance at my work uniform, I really miss the police station and work, I am not crazy, but laying still the whole time wasn't fun.

I noticed the black blanket my body rested on top of. Black!

I felt suffocated moving my shirt's collar left and right, trying to breathe. Should I consider therapy? I am scared.

No! Stop thinking! Stop. Just sleep, you deserve some rest..

I closed my eyes trying to visualize a white image to help me fall asleep faster, but all I could recall was me falling asleep whispering; Black, Black, Black...

~

The way I woke up wasn't regular, I jumped towards my closet to get my uniform with a smile. I glanced at myself in the mirror giggling at my messy hair, I ran my fingers through it talking to myself.

''hey popular girl, rise and shine gorgeous''

I caught myself off guard, am I smiling on a work-day morning? Where I will get to see Myung-gi and listen to Dae-ho's nonsense.. Maybe that's why I miss work in the first place.

After I applied my lipstick I ran downstairs, I closed my eyes enjoying the sound of my footsteps on the wooden floor. I stopped when I was met with the breakfast table, my steps quickened to have a seat, a smile never leaving my face. ''good morning!''

Suddenly all eyes on me.

''mom, did we bring someone else from the hospital?'', that was my annoying sister; Young-Mi. I ignored her admiring the food in front of me, I said excitingly.

''Oh, is that orange juice?''

My mom answered pouring a glass for Young-Mi, ''yes, we ran out of mango juice''

''yes! more juice for me'', said my sister.

My eyes stayed on the bottle of orange juice, and didn't focus on what my mom and sister were talking about, I grabbed the bottle and poured myself a full glass, I held it with both of my hands drinking it with enjoyment, I put it down after chugging the whole thing, I licked my lips enjoying as much orange flavor as possible. I opened my eyes to see the shock in their eyes.

What? Orange juice is awesome!

~

I made my steps towards the police station with my hands in my pockets and the breeze messing with my hair, that I took half an hour styling it. I refused to wear any coat even if it was a purple pilot jacket, purple??

My mom insisted on me to wear a coat but I refused, and now I feel guilty for doing so.

Oh my, what a feeling overload this morning, I feel guilty but I don't regret not wearing a coat.

Hello! Spring just came in, who would wear a coat at this time?

The greetings of my colleagues got me out of my zoning out, I waved my hands greeting them back with a smile I don't usually have, not in mornings neither at work.

Suddenly I felt a heavy weight on my shoulder, my smile faded into pure annoyance, Dae-ho!

I moved away from him, who does he thing he is? My Jun-hee? I sighed pushing his shoulder with my fist. ''You almost broke my shoulder you idiot''

''sorry princess'', he laughed, ''so, are you excited to see Jun-hee? Are you?''

I just rolled my eyes, lazy to answer his question. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and walked towards our desks. My eyes noticed the guy passing by us. ''Good morning Myung-gi!'', his hands were in his pockets, he barely looked at me, ignoring my existence, and kept walking his way.

I could feel Dae-ho's hands shaking my body, ''have you lost your mind? you were trying to piss him off, tell me that was your intention!''

I looked at him trying to process what he said to me, my eyebrows frowned in confusion.

What is wrong with me, that's not me...

I could feel a body hugging me from behind, ''I missed you so much~''

I smiled recognizing my girlfriend's voice, I turned my body to face her, pecking a kiss on her cheek, ''I miss you more my love''

she spoke fixing my stray hair strands, ''the chief asked for me, see you later'', I nodded then she walked away, ''Let's-''

I stopped talking when I noticed his weird glances at me, ''tell me, are you sick? is there something wrong going on?''

''Now what?'', I crossed my arms.

''This is not you usual smile when you see Jun-hee, it's usually more bright''

I scoffed, ''do you know me better than myself? mind your business''

I walked away leaving him in complete confusion, absolutely feeling confused more than him.

I sat on my desk playing with the pen between my finger in total boredom, some colleagues gathered asking about my surgery, the conversations went well, ignoring the pain in my chest.

The day went normally, I made my way back to my desk after the lunch break, I feel so much pain in my chest, I know it is not my heart. Well I am sure! I mean my heart is fine and the doctor insured that, it's something that falls under the category of feelings. Love, to be more precised.

Jun-hee is around me, why do I feel such hurt?

I took a deep breath tying my hair up, totally frustrated. I bumped into someone, some papers fell on the ground. ''Sorry, Myung-gi'', I got down to gather the papers.

''Sorry?'', my eyes widened to his mocking, I looked at the papers I gathered.. What do I do now?

I stood up quickly throwing whatever I had in his hands and walked faster to my desk, trying to ignore everyone's glances.

I opened the top button of my shirt trying to get some air, I feel like suffocating!

I glanced at my right to see Dae-ho pointing at the door, asking for me to follow him, I stood up following him outside, I walked slowly and noticed him for him to push me until my back rested on the wall behind me. I looked at him in surprise, he said angrily; ''what in the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?''

''I think I miss someone''

Notes: Back with another fic, this one is pretty juicy and has major events. Hope you enjoy it~

[22ayla21]

Teasing Kartein is Kayden's favorite activity, which you decided to kindly borrow. After that, Kartein regretted introducing you to Kayden.

You are an extraordinary person in yourself with an unruly character, which annoyed Kartein very much, and your jokes made him even more angry, but after a while he got so used to them that when you were calm, it seemed to Kartein that this was either the calm before the storm, or you had something it happened on the psychological front.

But let's go back to the present time, where you woke up in the morning and are trying to figure out what kind of situation you got into. To be more precise, to lie on the bare floor of the blanket, and next to the same naked Kartain slept.

“It seems like I didn’t drink yesterday, but I don’t know how I ended up in such a situation...”

[Last night]

Since you are Kartein's personal assistant, it is clear that you live in his residence. Perhaps it was confusing at first, but over time I got used to it.

The clock showed 09:00 pm. You were already going to sleep after taking a shower. You wrapped myself in a towel and was about to dry my hair when I heard a voice behind me.

- You would get dressed, at least for the sake of decency. There's no need to walk around here naked.

- You're a doctor, and you know all the charms of female anatomy, why do you react so much to a naked body?

- Maybe my specialty is not female anatomy after all?

- Or are you just shy?~

Pretending that you were supposedly taking off your towel, you could see how Kartein blushed very much from this and twitched. The next thing that was heard in the room was your loud laughter.

- Ah-ah-ah! Blushed like a virgin during puberty! - and again loud laughter throughout the room.

This time Kartein blushed with anger, but certainly not from embarrassment.

[Present]

Yeah, calling him a virgin during puberty was not the best idea, because he then proved the opposite to you all night. And the main thing in this whole situation is that you don't actually have any feelings for each other, at least that's what you thought.

- Good morning, sleeping beauty ~

While you remembered yesterday's events, Kartein managed to wake up and laugh about the whole situation.

- Well, you have a kind one, but I don't. My whole body is aching after last night ...

- And there was nothing to call me a virgin yesterday, maybe then I would have been more gentle ~

- It's hard to believe ...

An awkward silence has fallen over you. It seemed like both wanted to say something, but no one knew how to start this conversation. After all, you were braver than him and started a conversation.

- And what about our partnership relations?.. I don't think I will be able to pretend that this did not happen.

Kartein was silent for a couple of minutes until he answered the question:

- Believe it or not, but I've been sympathetic to you for a long time. Of course, you annoyed me at times and I even had time to regret introducing you to Kayden because of the frequent jokes, but you are the only one who understands me from half a word, knows how to find an approach when I'm not in the mood. You never needed my healing abilities and I am very comfortable with you, but over time I realized that I no longer sympathize with you, but really love...

- ...

- You don't have to say anything, I still didn't expect you to reciprocate.

Kartein got out of bed and was about to leave when you left him.

- Wait!

- What is it?

- I reciprocate your feelings. Maybe I don't fully love yet, but that doesn't mean that you can't give a chance. Maybe it will still work out if we try?

Kartein smiled at your words and kissed you on the forehead in response.

- Well, we have plenty of time to establish relations and learn more about ourselves.

[liptonsbabe]

Blood all along

Eugene Roe x fem! reader

Inktober "Snow"

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, war, the usual in this fandom(?.

a/n: well hello! This is a little something that I did for the inktober! I'm not an artist but I thought it would be cute to write a few fics for our favorite boys on this month! Hope you like it!

Btw English is not my frst language so tell me if something's wrong

ofc this is based on the hbo series and the actors who portray the characters, no disrespect for the real heroes!

You hissed in pain as you disinfected the wound on your leg. You were lucky, the bullet had only grazed your skin and the only thing you had to deal with was trying to stop the bleeding that was staining the snow beneath you red.

Bastogne was being a complete nightmare, the air support that arrived a few days ago was not enough and the battalion's medical team was having serious problems helping all the wounded men.

Having to digging in right along the line and repel the German attacks was the worst moment of the war so far and having lost so many soldiers in such a short time was a very strong blow for everyone.

Malarkey, Muck, Penkala and you were inseparable since Toccoa and losing two of your best friends in the same night was so painful for you, especially cause you trained so hard to become a doctor and still couldn't do anything for them. Don talked to you right after what happened, making sure you were okay, but the truth was that he was just or worse affected than you were, and even if Donald Malarkey always knew what to say to lift others' spirits, at that moment the words were stuck on his lips. The only thing he could do was stay by your side, silent and holding your hand tightly.

Everyone in the company noticed your change in attitude after Muck and Penkala's death. Somehow you turned lonely, quiet, and your hands shook when you were near the soldiers' wounds, something that didn't go unnoticed by Eugene Roe, who asked you to step away from the line for a while and try to forget everything that had happened in the last few days.

But forgetting was impossible. Even if your friends hadn't died, you could never forget the warm, viscous feeling of blood on your hands, the smell of gunpowder filling the air or the screams of pain you heard every day, at every second. Now, every time you closed your eyes, the images of the wounded soldiers appeared among a dark cloud that slowly grew bigger and bigger, trying to choke you.

You hissed again, the cold making the wound on your exposed leg sting terribly. You took some alcohol from your backpack and soaked the gauze with it to disinfect the bullet graze. You smiled a little, remembering how you had gotten hurt.

If you had found the third battalion sooner, Babe wouldn't have fallen into that Kraut's foxhole and you wouldn't have to run through the woods with gunfire hot on your heels. It was kind of fun tho, but your leg was swollen like hell.

You heard footsteps approaching your position and without thinking twice you grabbed the knife that you always carried on your belt. You waited for the shadow to become clearer in the snow to attack, but then you recognized the silhouette and relaxed your body.

Eugene walked towards you slowly. His nose was red from the cold and his hands were hidden in the pockets of his uniform. You put the knife aside and continued cleaning the blood. Eugene sat in front of you, noticing the red snow under your feet.

“(Y/N), you're hurt.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Wait, I'm gonna help you,” he said and rushed to examine the swelling on your leg. You pushed him away “You should've come to me sooner.”

"It wasn't necessary. Don't worry, the bullet didn't hit me. At least not completely. Plus, I'm a doctor too, remember? I can take care of this by myself.”

"Doesn't matter. I wish you'd let me check you properly. Edward told me what happened.”

"Who?" You frowned, not understanding who he was referring to. Then you remembered that Eugene never called anyone by his nickname “Uh, Babe.”

“Yeah.”

“I asked him not to do it, I didn't want you to worry.”

“Well, no matter what happens, I will always worry about you” then he removed your hands from the wound and took the gauze carefully. Roe cleaned your wound and took the time to check that it was indeed a simple bullet graze. He put some ointment on it and blew on your swollen leg for a couple of seconds. You sighed cause the air from his mouth felt like a kiss on your skin and relieved the burning momentarily. You admired the firmness of his hands and the way the blood no longer scared him. He pulled a bandage out of his jacket and started wrapping it around your leg.

“Eugene, how can you stand it?”

He looked up for a second while continuing to manipulate the bandage. “What d'you mean?”

"I mean this. Still standing after everything that has happened."

Eugene stopped. His fingers rested on your bandaged leg and he thought hard for several seconds. He looked at you and could see how broken and tired you were.

"I pray. Sometimes"

“There must be something else” You sniffled, wanting to stop the tears. Eugene sighed, “Something that makes you feel like it's worth staying here.”

“I think there is always something good at the end of the road. I think that… beyond this forest, beyond this frozen hell… there's something that gives purpose to what we are doing. And I hold on to the thought that everything I love will be there when I come back” he said and caressed your cheek “And maybe, with a little luck, I can convince you to come home with me” You laughed through your tears and Eugene squeezed your hand gently. “I'm sorry about Muck and Penkala. I know you feel guilty for not being able to help them, but I'm convinced that they believed firmly in you, and that if it had been different, you'd be there, trying 'til the very end.

Your tears were uncontrollable and Eugene hugged you tightly, he let your pain come out of your chest and let your tears be carried away by the heavy snow that fell from the sky. Roe stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“Everything's gonna be okay and i promise you that I'm gonna take you home,” he whispered in your ear. “I promise, (Y/N), I do promise.”

[nijicx]

I remember in one of your post on how you made quirks, to never disregard an idea for someone ability, but with how unique the abilities are. Instead of simply making manipulation or project of elements powers. Is there any other tips or ways that help you make your character powers? Love your work and powers!

First of all thank-you so much ;__; I'm glad you get a kick out of my unhinged ramblings! Hmmm I guess my only tip besides what I outlined is just be curious about things even if you think they wont serve you now. I have an unfathomably short attention span so perhaps this is easier said than done for some folk, but I think an example I'll run with is very silly way I came up with a character last night~ I had a part in my story that I needed some sort of underground doctor for, Garrote nearly dies in a fight against Ren and gets a big ol hole in his chest, and its pretty hard to fix a giant hole in the chest, especially for such a big patchwork guy. Every time I have sat down to formally try and figure out what kind of character should be there I have failed. But last night I was running the scene through my head since I thought about making a few panel comic about it and I just saw a girl character eating a burger sitting at the edge of the tub while healing Garrote, and I was like "Well that's weird, but kinda funny, I like that, how can I make that work?"

and so then I was like "well it'd be great if she could create flesh...so her power should be some sort of regeneration power, but how can she just MAKE flesh and vasculature systems? and then my brain went back to the burger and was like "well...burger is technically flesh...wait" and then googled up how the body goes about filling holes when it's healing, i.e reconnecting its vasculature system and creating a matrix of cells for the flesh to basically seal back together, and so I decided that her power would be that when she eats flesh, she's able to create extracellular matrix in others and heal/regenerate their wounds.

I ended up thinking it was really funny and weird, and so then was like "well how do I nerf the fact that she could just buy like 12 McDondalds dollar menu hamburgers and heal a small army, which is when I thought "well, burgers are beef/pork/chicken, that kind of flesh while similar, is probably not good for intensely life threatening injuries like Ivan has, and it feels like it would more or less just be a patch job for things like stabs/bullet wounds. So then I had the horrible idea that she'd have to take in human flesh to resuscitate someone who was that far gone already, to be able to reform all of the complex structure of the actual human body, kind of like how some people can get flesh/organ transplants from animals, but they aren't quite a one-to-one match and can cause issues. (pretty sure I learned that fact from some weird facebook post and googled it after to see if that actually happened)

So I ended up making her villain name Cannibal Matrix (Or Hanibelle Matrix, haven't decided which yet, second one is funnier but time will tell) All of this process happened within about 15 minutes or so I guess the TLDR is, everyone's brains work in a specific way, if I fight the way my brain enjoys expressing itself, it usually just leads to me coming up with nothing and to myself getting frustrated. I think there is merit to sitting down formally and telling yourself that you're gunna come up with something in one sitting, but I think 90% of my ideas come when I am doing other things and my brain is just wandering around thinking about whatever.

I think though if I think about it further, imagining the scene itself helped form the character that needed to be there for me, the rest I sort of just happened to fall into place, so spend some time actually imagining interactions between your characters, your brain might fill in the spaces all on its own~ Expose yourself to lots of art and music, and weird facts about the world, fill the well your brain has to pull from when it comes to drawing inspiration to make something new~