#no for real the doctor is gonna tell you to take x amount but that Y amount instead it's soooo good

[alongtidesoflight]

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[corroded-hellfire]

More Munson Than Expected - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Written with my beloved @munson-blurbs 💜

Summary: The ultrasound for your second pregnancy brings a new wave of excitement to the Munson household.

Note: The excitement I have to let this secret out of the bag after cooking it up for over a year is real. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: pregnant!reader

Words: 4.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Eddie, you didn’t have to come with me,” you remind him again as he pulls up a chair next to the examination table he just helped you get situated on.

Your husband gives you a disapproving look as he makes himself comfortable in the seat. He shakes his head as he reaches out and takes one of your hands in his.

“Did you really think I was going to miss this?” he asks. “No way. I was there for Eliza’s first ultrasound, I’m going to be there for this one’s too.”

“What about the boys?”

Eddie sighs. “I was there for Ryan’s. But I wasn’t aware of when Luke’s was, so I missed it. Don’t tell him.”

“I won’t,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “He would know it wasn’t your fault, though.”

“You keep your mouth shut too, hmm?” Eddie leans over and presses a kiss to your emerging bump. 

“I don’t know if he or she developed a mouth yet,” you say, the sanitary paper crinkling beneath you as you try to get comfortable. 

“Not gonna find out if you’re a he or she,” Eddie continues talking to his developing child. He reaches out and rubs a hand over your stomach. “Wanna see you, though. And make sure you’re healthy.”

The door to the examination room swings open, bringing with it the distinct smell of antiseptic. The ultrasound technician walks in and closes the door behind her.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” she greets with a smile. “My name is Tara and I’ll be doing your ultrasound today. The doctor tells me that you don’t want to know the sex. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod. “We want this one to be a surprise.”

“That is no problem. Let me just set up here and we’ll get started.”

While she gets to work, Eddie helps you as you attempt to tug your shirt up enough to avoid the cold and sticky goo that will inevitably be squirted on your stomach for the ultrasound. You’re able to tuck it into the underwire of your bra just to be sure that it won’t slide back down and get all messy. 

One of the sleeves of Eddie’s jumpsuit falls down and he shoves it back up past his elbow. You take in the navy material, your eye tracing over his name sewn on in red thread over his heart. 

“What time are they expecting you back at work?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “They know where I’m at. They know it might be a little while.” 

“Alright, are we ready?” Tara asks.

“Yep.” You offer your hand to Eddie again and he laces his ringed fingers with yours. 

Tara picks up the bottle of the dreaded goo and squirts a healthy amount on your abdomen. The chill against your skin sends a shiver throughout your body. At least the wand should warm it up as the tech spreads the substance around to get the best view of the baby. 

To you and your husband it feels like you’re just looking at a black screen with wavy white lines on it. Somehow, everything seems to make sense to Tara as she positions the wand on different parts of your stomach. 

“Oh,” she says at one point, stilling the instrument against your skin. “Here we go.”

A soft but steady thump thump thump fills the air of examination room 5. Tears immediately well up in your eyes. You look at Eddie to see him grinning from ear to ear. 

With the slightest movement of the wand sliding against the goo, you hear thump thump thump thump thump thump.

“Oh wow,” you say through a sniffle. “You can hear it even better now.”

“Sounds strong,” Eddie adds. 

“Actually…” Tara trails off.

“What?” Eddie asks. You feel his hand tighten in your grip. “It’s…not strong?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s very strong. It sounds perfect to me. But I want you to listen.” There are a few moments of silence as the three of you listen to the heartbeat. 

“It sounds fast,” you say.

“It does,” Tara agrees. “But if you listen, you can hear some of the beats overlapping one another.”

She leans in towards the screen and moves the wand again, just slightly. A smile grows on her face as she spots something in the mess of gray shapes on the machine. “Hear it?” she asks.

“Yeah, kind of,” Eddie says. “What does that mean?”

“Well, if you look here,” she replies, pointing towards what looks like a small blob, “that’s your baby.”

Pure glee radiates throughout your entire being. It’s your first glimpse at your and Eddie’s new baby. Another life that the two of you created together. You share a quick loving look with your husband before you both become engrossed in the image on the screen again.

“And here…” Tara says, sliding her finger slightly to the right, “is your other baby.”

The room goes silent save for the sound of the heartbeat. Or rather, heartbeats. Though your ears heard the words, your brain is still processing what they mean. It’s clearly the same with Eddie, as he stares at Tara just like you are.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie finally says. He chuckles and licks over his lips. “Did you say, ‘other baby’?”

“I did, indeed.” Tara taps a few keys on the machine, and it looks like it takes a screenshot. “There are two babies here. Two distinct heartbeats and two little nuggets showing off to the camera.”

“Twins.” The word comes out of you as a whispered breath. “We’re having twins.”

“Not just Baby Munson #4,” Eddie adds in a voice as awed as yours. “Baby Munson #5, too.”

“And they both appear to be developing well,” Tara says. 

Eddie laughs. “No. No, we, uh, we’re not having twins.” He looks down at you, then back at Tara. “We decided we’re just having one more. I’m already forty-one, so just the one newborn is already pushing it.”

Tara grins, clearly used to this kind of reaction. “Well, you’d better rest up. Because you’ll be a father to two new little ones in a few months.”

Eddie grabs your hand, still stunned by the news. You can’t say you’re faring much better, although it does explain why this pregnancy has been so much more intense than when you were expecting Eliza. Part of you feels relieved that it wasn’t all in your head. But another part…

“Twins.” The word leaves your lips in an exhale. “We’re…babe, we’re gonna have five kids. We’re gonna be a family of seven.”

A clammy hand squeezes yours, and you glance up to see Eddie visibly trembling. “How am I gonna raise five kids?” He murmurs. “That’s one more than Harrington, and that dude was pretty much born to be a dad.”

Tara’s brows furrow as she cleans off your belly. “I’ll, um, leave you two to discuss.” She starts for the door, then turns around. “Take all the time you need.”

As soon as the door clicks shut, Eddie starts pacing around the tiny exam room. “Okay, okay. We’re having two babies. At the same time.”

“Yes, that’s generally what happens with twins.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. “I could do without your sarcasm right now, Sweetheart. I just found out that I’m about to out-kid Steve Harrington.”

“Out-kid?” You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Eddie doesn’t pick up on your joking tone. “Yes! He has four, and I’ll have five. Five!” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I was barely keeping two alive before you came along, and now I’m gonna be responsible for five?!”

“First of all,” you say, pushing yourself up, “you were an amazing dad before we got together. Even before I started watching the boys, when you were basically doing it on your own. Give yourself some credit. Second, Ryan will be going to college soon enough, so we’ll only have four kids in the house.”

Your attempt at consoling your husband falls flat. “Oh my god, I’m gonna have infants while my oldest is gonna be in college! I’m supposed to be slowing down, not re-babyproofing the house!” He buries his head in his hands. “What were we thinking? And why do you always have to look so hot? I wouldn’t be tempted to jump your bones all the time if you weren’t so goddamn sexy.”

You sigh. “I mean, you’re the one who’s always telling me you want to ‘pump me full of your babies.’ Guess now you really did it.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie runs his hands down his face and takes a deep breath. He stands in the same spot, staring at you for a few silent moments before a smile begins to crack through his fog. “Holy shit.”

“Calming down now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Or realizing I’m the one who has to push two of them out of my body?”

Eddie ambles over to you on the examining table and rests his forehead against yours. His shoulders have gone down to their usual height again, no longer bunched up around his ears with tension. 

“Okay, I had my mini freak out,” he says softly, reaching up to tug the hem of your shirt down back over your bump. “You may have yours.”

With a low chuckle, you reach up and cup your husband’s face in your hands. 

“I still don’t think it’s hit me yet,” you admit. “Or maybe trying to logic-out your fear helped me with my own, too. I mean, you said something about being too old to re-babyproof the house? Sweetheart, we would have had to do that with one baby anyway.”

“Common sense left me there for a little bit, I’ll admit.”

“And I’ve got one more bone to pick with you,” you say, leaving one hand on his face and using the other to poke him in the chest. 

“What’s that?”

“You said Steve was pretty much born to be a dad. Eddie, out of all the people I’ve ever met in my life, you are definitely the one who was always meant to be a dad.” You lower your hand to your bump. “Because it doesn’t matter if there were one, two, three, or even eight babies in here. You’d still love them all unconditionally and try your hardest to give the world to them.”

“I love our babies,” Eddie replies softly. His hand moves to rest on top of yours on your bump. “I love our twins.”

“Hey, we’ve got some extra resources this time around, too,” you point out. “Ryan drives now. We can recruit him for diaper or formula runs. And he can take Luke and Eliza places if we’re not able to. Luke is old enough now not to be intimidated by being around newborns. He’ll definitely be more hands-on than he was with Eliza. And speaking of the little firecracker…we already know she’s going to be like a mother hen to them. See? Recruiting the kids to help with the kids. And that doesn’t even mention Wayne and all of our friends. At least ninety percent of them owe us from watching their kids at one point or another.” 

“My wife is so smart,” Eddie praises with a small smile. 

“She is,” you reply coyly. “Do you think you could help me off this table, though? Makes sense why it’s been harder for me to get up from things lately—two against one here.”

Eddie gently takes your arms and leads you to a comfortable seated position before helping you hop down from the high table. 

The two of you walk hand-in-hand out of the doctor’s office and across the parking lot to your car. The sun seems warmer and brighter than when you went in. There’s not a cloud in the sky—were there any before? Birds call to one another from the trees that encircle the medical plaza, and their tune brings a smile to your face. Everything seems so light and airy around you that it almost makes you feel like you’re dissociating. But there’s Eddie’s hand in yours. The sneakers you wear knock against the concrete with every step, reverberating the vibration up your legs. You’re very much here in this moment. The magic in the air comes from knowing the amount of love you carried for the bundle of joy in your belly has just doubled. The thought of kissing two little button noses goodnight every day instead of one has you giddy. 

“Baby,” you say as Eddie opens the passenger car door for you. “We’re gonna have double the cuddles.”

“Double the drooly kisses.” The smile on your husband’s face tells you that he’s excited about the prospect. “Double new baby smell.”

You secure your seatbelt and rest both of your hands on your belly as Eddie walks around the car and slides into the driver’s seat. 

“Double the love we give and receive,” you muse softly, looking down at your protruding bump. “I wonder if I’ll get double the pain meds when I’m in labor.”

Eddie laughs as he pulls the car out of the parking space. 

“Time will tell,” he says. “Are you hungry, princess?”

“Yeah. I mean, makes sense, since I’m eating for three,” you reply. “But don’t you have to get back to work?”

“There is no way I’ll be able to focus on anything,” Eddie says with a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. “I’m taking the rest of the day.”

“Okay. Do you want to get lunch at—oh boy.”

Eddie’s eyes glance over at you before looking back on the road.

“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not wrong,” you say. “Just…I-I don’t know how we’ll keep this from the kids. We didn’t think we’d have anything to report to them other than the baby being healthy since we’re not finding out the sex. But there’s absolutely no way I won’t slip up and say ‘babies’ or ‘them’ or something that will give it away. I’d rather they hear the news from us directly than catching us in a slip.”

Eddie nods in agreement. “How do you think we should tell them?”

“Umm…” You purse your lips as you start to ponder different scenarios. Both you and Eddie think in silence for a few minutes before he speaks.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea…”

Eliza is thrilled to have both of her parents picking her up from school. The way she goes on and on about an arts and crafts project they did in class today reminds you of when you were just the babysitter and picked Ryan and Luke up from school. Luke always had something interesting to babble on about—much to your amusement. 

Your second oldest is already at home when you walk in the front door holding Eliza’s hand and Eddie trails in behind with a few bags from the store. Usually, Ryan drives both himself and Luke home from school every day, but now Ryan takes SAT Prep classes once a week after school, forcing Luke to take the bus home. Which you’d think was one of the trials of Hercules with how often Luke shares his disdain for the form of transportation. 

“Whatcha got, Pops?” Luke asks from the couch. His hand is buried in a bag of white cheddar popcorn and an episode of Supernatural is on the television. 

“You’ll see,” Eddie tells him, taking the bags straight to your room. Best to keep them out of the way of the two nosiest Munson children. Although, you wonder to yourself if that will change with the new additions. 

Eliza spies the snack her brother has and quickly sheds her Little Mermaid backpack and pink Mary Jane shoes to climb up on the couch next to him. She sticks an arm in the popcorn bag and brings out as big a handful as her little fist would allow her. 

“There’s food in the bags,” Eliza says to Luke through the kernels stuffing her cheeks.

“Huh?” Luke clearly doesn’t speak four-year-old-with-a-full-mouth.

“The bags Daddy has,” Eliza says once she’s swallowed. She wipes her white cheddar covered fingertips on her white tights. “There’s food in them. I smelled it in the car.” 

“Good job, Watson,” he tells her.

“Uh, who?” Eliza gives her older brother a look that clearly relays she thinks he’s crazy. It doesn’t stop her from taking another handful of popcorn, though. 

“Watson. Sherlock Holmes’ assistant. They’re detectives, Lize.”

“Oh,” is all she says before shoving more popcorn into her mouth. 

You putter around, cleaning up the kitchen and tidying the living room to keep yourself from spilling the beans too early. It’s important to wait until Ryan gets home later. You just know time is going to crawl by at a snail’s pace for the next hour and a half.

When your oldest son finally arrives home, you usher everyone around the kitchen table for a family meeting. 

“Am I in trouble?” Luke huffs. “Because if I am, I’d like to plead not guilty.”

Eddie raises his brows. “Not sure why you’d be in trouble, but I’m sure we’ll find out.” He clears his throat, placing a loving hand on your bump. “No, this family meeting is to tell you guys some exciting news we got at the ultrasound today.”

He reaches over and plucks a grease-soaked Burger King bag from the counter. “Ry, you get the first clue.”

Ryan practically tears open the bag, the hungry teenager ready to devour the Double Whopper without even unwrapping it. 

“Is the baby a hamburger?” Ryan asks mid-bite. He pulls out the fries you got along with it. “Or is it small? Is the clue ‘small fry?’”

You shake your head. “Nope. Nice try, though.” 

Luke’s clue is next, though he’s too busy trying to get his brother to share his food to really pay attention. When Ryan finally relents and tosses a fry his way, Luke looks down at the Gameboy game box in front of him. 

“A Looney Tunes double pack?” He wrinkles his nose. “Are you naming the baby Tweety Bird?”

Eliza sticks out her little tongue in disgust. “That’s a horrible name for a baby!”

“Maybe it looks like Elmer Fudd, like Eliza did when she was born,” Ryan chimes in, licking ketchup off of his thumb. 

“Who?” Your daughter glances between the boys, unaware of the joke being made at her expense.

Luke doesn’t hesitate to fill her in. “The weird guy who hunts Bugs Bunny. The one who always goes, ‘ooh, I hate that wabbit!’”

Eliza shoots him a glare that’s equal parts adorable and terrifying. Luckily, she’s easily distracted by her clue. 

“For Eliza,” you say as you tug the crinkling Target bag off of the biggest hint of all. Eddie already made sure to open the box and cut any wires attached so your daughter can get right at the twin Baby Alive dolls. 

The four-year-old gasps. “Babies!” She holds her arms out as you deliver the box to her.

Little fingers grab onto the first doll, and she gently places it on the table in front to her before removing the second doll. The rest of the family watches in amusement as Eliza covers the baby on the table with a blanket, and cradles the other one in her arms, holding its bottle to its mouth. 

“So,” Eddie asks, rubbing his hands together, “what do these gifts have in common?”

The three of them begin to think. At least, you’re pretty sure Eliza is thinking about it. She’s gazing down at the doll in her arms with the most heartwarming compassion. 

“There’s two burger patties, two games, two dolls…” Luke muses.

“Wait,” Ryan says, his head perking up as an idea occurs to him. “Is it a girl? Like, two X chromosomes?”

Your husband simply stares at your oldest son for a moment before responding.

“In what world would I be smart enough to come up with that?” he asks. 

Luke nods his head in your direction. “Ma is, though. But I think it’s a boy because there’s two of us boys already.”

“Then the hint would have to do with three, genius,” Ryan scoffs. 

The younger brother contorts his face and mocks his brother’s words in a high-pitched voice.

“Maybe Mama has two babies in her belly.” Your daughter’s words are spoken with the most casual tone, the majority of her attention on the plastic doll she’s gently rocking to sleep in her arms. 

The boys both laugh, Ryan rolling his eyes at what he considers a silly idea from a little girl. The Munson brothers turn to you and Eddie, expecting you to be joining in on the laughter, but all they find are your excited and hopeful faces. The chuckles trail off as the boys pause and consider what those faces mean. 

“Wait, you don’t mean…” Ryan starts.

“Oh my GOD!” Luke shouts, banging his hands down on the table in front of him. It rattles the doll Eliza isn’t holding, and she gives her big brother a glare over the disturbance. 

“No way!” Ryan stands up, excitement nearly paralyzing him. He doesn’t know what to do except smile as he holds his arms out in front of him awkwardly. “It’s really…twins?!”

“It’s twins!” you confirm. You make an attempt to stand as well, but the two babies inside of you are keeping your center of gravity low enough to make you give up. 

“Two babies!” Luke hoots. “This is insane!”

Eddie chuckles, his heart at once light as air and completely full at seeing the excitement of his boys. 

“Do you have a picture?” Luke asks.

“The sonogram,” Ryan adds.

“Yeah! Can we see it? Let us see the picture!”

“Do you even know what you’ll be looking at?” Ryan asks as he sits back down next to his brother.

Luke shrugs. “They’ll show us.”

“Okay, okay, here it is,” you say, handing over the image that’s been sitting in your back pocket. “That little spot right there is one baby, and that one right there is the other baby.”

Their stunned faces make you giggle softly as you lean back. 

“Oh my God,” Ryan says. “I can’t believe it’s twins.”

“Holy sh—crap, we’re going to have two new siblings.”

“We’re going to need a bigger house,” Ryan says, looking around the room everyone is seated in.

“Wow, there’s going to be a lot of people living here,” Luke says. “Dad, were you going for twins?”

“That’s not how it works, doofus,” Ryan says as Eddie shakes his head in amusement. 

Luke scoffs. “Explain it to me then, Mr. SAT.”

Eliza heaves a deep sigh for someone with such a tiny body and small lungs. She sets the baby doll in her arms down on the table next to its sleeping sibling. 

“You’re so loud!” she complains. 

“Lize, it’s twin babies!” Luke tells her, gently shaking her frame back and forth. 

“I know, I know, you keep saying it over and over!”

“Aren’t you excited?” Ryan asks her. 

Your daughter shrugs her shoulders once before picking her doll back up and cradling it in the crook of her arm.

“Sure.” 

Both boys look to you and Eddie at her lackluster reaction. You give a gentle shake of your head.

“Don’t worry,” you tell them. “It’ll click at some point.” 

“Oh, what a day,” you sigh as you slip under the blankets to lay down next to your husband. Eddie lifts his arm, and you immediately cuddle up to his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Your bump nudges his side, and you rub one hand over the soft material of your worn t-shirt. “Makes sense why my bump is more pronounced earlier than it was with Eliza.”

Eddie wraps one arm around your shoulders and brings the other one down to place his hand on top of your own. 

“Can't believe there are four of us in this bed,” he says with a light chuckle.

“Daddyyyyy! Mamaaaaaa!”

A four-year-old with wild curls runs into your room and leaps onto the bed, landing at your and Eddie’s feet.

“Make that five of us,” Eddie says. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Little Miss,” you tell Eliza.

She pushes herself onto her hands and knees in her purple piggy pajamas and quickly crawls up the infinitesimal space between you and her father. 

“Careful, careful,” Eddie cautions the closer she gets to your belly.

Eliza halts her ascent and leans back on her heels. Her chocolate brown eyes are as wild as her bedhead is.

“I’m gonna be a big sister to two babies?!” 

Across the hall, a chuckle reverberates in Ryan’s chest as he turns to lay on his side in bed.

“There it is.”

[rinniemybeloved]

Can you do Bokuto/Iwaizumi as a father like Kenma?

[✦] - 𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐃

notes : sorry for being inactive for almost like 2 months :)

warnings : pregnancy idk if that's a warning tho

pairings : dad!bokuto x mom!reader,

dude has baby fever all the time I swear

"y/n it would be so cute!!" "y/n it wouldn't be that hard!!"

he's nagging you 24/7

so you just had to give in 🤷‍♀️

during the pregnancy he would be so worried

you could literally like cough or something and he'd call a doctor to make sure everything's okay

VERY overprotective

once, a small child came up to you and asked you if there's a baby in your belly and he was glaring at the kid the whole time 😭

but he honestly really likes when little kids come up to you two, he just wants to make sure they don't hurt the baby or smth

he talks to your belly so much

he's so convinced that the baby is understanding and responding too

it's honestly adorable to see him calm for once in his life

bokuto's determined that it's a boy, like literally DETERMINED

I mean, having a girl wouldn't hurt, but like it's just like his sixth sense telling him he's gonna have a boy

he gets so impatient to find out the gender too!!

he's gonna pay any amount of money to find out as fast as possible

… and boom boom his assumption sadly turns out to be true

this is loosely related to this piece I wrote a few months ago, girls or boys?

when the baby's born, he almost drops his son, but thank God he's okay

he probably wanted to name him something like buster 💀

"this is our son, not a dog, kotaro!"

"but people love and play with dogs, and we'll love and play with him, so there isn't a difference!"

yes, that was indeed a real conversation between you two.

but you ended up naming him Ichiro, leaving kotaro whining about why he couldn't name him buster.

but the absolute first thing he's gonna do is take a countless amount of pictures and send them to the whole msby group chat as well as the Japan national team group chat

can't blame him, he's always given off Instagram dad vibes

and when I say Instagram dad, I mean, like, Instagram dad.

he will post the smallest things lil Ichiro does, and bokuto's a pro athlete, so it's gonna get some attention 🤷‍♀️

his son is gonna do something as simple as point at the tv and giggle when his favorite character comes on the screen, and he's gonna post that.

his friends are supportive of it too, especially my baby Shoyo <3 <3 (I'm trying so hard not to make this about him but my Shoyo phase is coming back rn)

shoyo_msby21 it's like I saw him as a baby just yesterday !!

6h 319 likes Reply

— View 24 replies

matching outfits.

kotaro has never been the best with fashion, but with the help of you and his teammates, he has gotten better at dressing his son up

like imagine there's just a whole section in the closet just for matching father-son outfits.

He's gonna spend thousands on clothes for the family. sometimes all of you go out wearing the same colour outfit or something

matching jerseys too, little Ichiro always goes to his father's games wearing an identical, but smaller jersey <3

his son is gonna be a total daredevil, sometimes even kotaro surprisingly gets worried.

the kid is gonna have little star printed bandaids all over his little hands and legs, but I guess people learn from their mistakes, don't they?

he's gonna love being the center of attention, clinging to his dad whenever he's getting interviewed. He just wants the world to know that a star player like his dad has a star son like him!

overall, Bokuto gets an A for being an adept father.

Requests are open!

[voidscarredadjudicator]

Hey y'all, sorry for the silence - as you can imagine by the last post, things have been a little stressful. The short version is that it's worse than what we thought, and I'm gonna need surgery - but I will recover! All I need (other than surgery) is physical therapy, time, and ibuprofen. And whatever industrial strength painkillers they give me, because holy fuck the procedure will leave me sore. Despite this news, I'm staying pretty positive about things, so don't fret for me. If you're interested in the finer details of the nuclear bomb that exploded in my knee, I'll elaborate past the keep reading thingy - but if you're not interested in or unsettled by descriptions of injuries or surgical procedures, I'll simply tell you that this is an injury common among football players, and the procedure I will undergo is what they give to said football players with the intention of getting them back to the sport that caused the injury to begin with. Frankly, my doctor might be overqualified for me.

And for those of you who aren't so squeamish, I've got a combination of a complete ACL tear, meniscus tears, and a fractured tibia. The way I fell not only twisted my leg to tear a ligament cleanly in half, but my femur jutted down into my lower leg bone hard enough to crack it - which is actually why I feel so much pain when attempting to put weight on it. Initially, I was a little panicked, because the folks at the clinic I went to said I could put "weight as I could bear" on the leg, but the amount of weight I could bear at the time was a fat zero, and continued to be as such for weeks. Didn't help that initial X-Ray didn't show anything wrong, so I had no idea my bone was even in that shape until just a few days ago. On the bright side, the fracture itself doesn't require any surgery - it'll heal naturally over about 2 months (which one month has passed already since the injury so we're halfway there). No, the elephant in the room is the torn ACL.

It's fucked beyond repair. In the picture of the MRI scan I got, it visibly just. Ends. The ACL, or 𝓐𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 is one of two ligaments (the other one being the PCL, or 𝓟𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽, of which mine is completely fine) that basically stabilize the knee. Keeps the bones from moving too far apart from each other, basically. So, pretty important! Right now, my physical therapy is just trying to get my leg to move how it did before the injury again in preparation for the surgery, with the logic being that doing so will both speed up recovery post operation and minimize potential for complications.

What they're gonna do is take a piece of one of my tendons, drill a hole through my femur and tibia, stretch the piece of tendon through the holes where my ACL was at, and secure it in place with bone screws, where that bit of tendon will become my new ACL. As far as the torn meniscus, they'll take care of that during the ACL surgery as well - depending on how it's torn, it'll either need stitched up or the torn bits removed. They have no way of knowing until they're in there. After that, it's more PT to keep it in working order. For sports folks, it takes about 6 to 12 months to get back to playing. My hobbies aren't really active though, so that'll be a breeze for me.

So uhh yeah. Ao3 writer's curse is real. But I'll be fine. Sore, but fine.

[hareofhrair]

A hypothetical

In the future, technology is developed that allows one to upload a "backup" of their memories and personality, to be downloaded into a cloned body at the moment of your death, making you functionally immortal.

Because of this, the legal definition of death becomes contingent on continuity of consciousness and not brain death. Ie, if your conscious experience of life is interrupted for x reasonable amount of time, you are considered legally dead. Therefore, if you somehow found the cryogenically frozen head of Walt Disney below Space Mountain and were able to upload his consciousness to a cloned body today, he would not, legally speaking, be Walt Disney and would therefor have no claim to his estate. This avoids a number of tricky legal hangups.

To circumvent this, it's necessary for your clone to be "woken up" as quickly as possible after death, to guarantee continuity of consciousness meets the legal standard to allow you to resume your life. Therefore, the process is triggered by the cessation of brain function.

A man is in a dreadful accident, and dies. A doctor manages to revive him, but he was dead just long enough to trigger the automatic process to wake his clone.

The man's consciousness was not interrupted long enough to meet the legal definition of death, so he is still legally himself. But what about the clone? Is it also legally him? It also has the same uninterrupted experience of life within the same legal limits. It's also a whole ass person in no way meaningfully distinct from any other, so you can't just euthanize it. Do you just give it a new identity and send it on its way? From the clone's perspective, he is still the man who died in the accident. He wants to go home to his family. Do you simply tell him that's not his family anymore? Not his career? Not his pets, his record collection, his half finished painting, his half written novel? He has no legal right to any of it?

So you have to fold him into his previous life, right? It's the only thing that's fair. It gonna be a confusing mess but you can't just tell the man his life isn't his anymore just because, by an accident of science, there's two of him now.

It's difficult on the family. Do they consider the first man the "real" one, and treat this new one like some kind of long lost twin brother? Well that's not going to go well. The clone wants to kiss his spouse and parent his kids. It's a good thing monogamy went out of fashion in the 30's. The spouse tries to accept they just have two husbands now. After being reasonably freaked out, the kids are optimistic about having two dads.

What about the first man? He's still recovering from a traumatic accident. He might never be the same. He might be disabled for life. And here's this perfectly healthy doppleganger taking over his life, kissing his spouse, holding his kids, working his job, living in his house. Logically of course he understands the man is him, that in his place he would, almost by definition, be doing the exact same thing.

But resentment is inevitable. What if he doesn't want to share his life? What if he wants his spouse here with him while he struggles through physical therapy to try and put his ruined body back together, instead of out to dinner with his clone as they try to build new romantic memories without him?

Maybe he starts to feel like he should have died in the accident. Like he's the problem here, the fact that he's still around. It's not a happy thought.

The clone is having problems too. He's not blind, and he knows himself. He knows how the other man must feel. The guilt keeps him up at night, lying in his familiar bed in his familiar house. His empty bed. His spouse is still at the hospital, sleeping in an uncomfortable chair at the other man's bedside. The clone took the kids home to get a decent night's sleep. It warms his heart, in a strange, strangling way, to see how devoted his spouse is to the other man, to the old him. They really loved him. Not everyone would be so steadfast in a situation like this. It doesn't stop him from wanting them here, next to him.

Should he do something, some gesture to separate himself from the other man? To bow out gracefully from his own life, and leave his old identity to someone else, and let the official record state he is not the man who died in that accident? Could he give up his name? His professional and personal achievements, his paternity of his children? What else would the other man expect him to give up, once he started to back down? He can he see himself being slowly edged out of his own life, one claim at a time, slowly erasing the connections to who he was before the accident. When he does sleep, he has nightmares about dying.

Things come to a head when the first man comes home from the hospital. It's different here, being reduced to an invalid in his own home, struggling just to get to the bathroom on his own, while the clone smiles and effortlessly takes out the trash and plays with the kids, and finishes that painting.

He shouldn't have finished the painting. The clone realizes what a mistake it was the second he sees the other man's face. It was just that he'd woken up next to his spouse for the first time since the accident, and he'd gotten out of bed in the quiet of dawn, and looked out the window at the brightening sky, and realized he was alive. He'd survived something that should have killed him, that had killed him. And he was here, seeing the sunrise again. He'd felt inspired for the first time in ages. He'd been picking up the brush before he knew what was happening.

But now the other man is in the door, looking at the canvas, and the clone knows this face better than anyone. He recognizes the rage and the grief and the miserable jealousy and the guilt.

They both come to the same decision at exactly the same moment.

And somewhere in a medical facility across town, a man wakes up.

[thebaddesbit]

You’re my grotesquerie

Chapter 1 - Reminiscing

(Dr Charlie x Lois) 2,072 words

Peeking into one of the rooms, the woman in the bed slept peacefully. Charlie approached her, caressing her face. "Hey Lois, I see your flowers are a little dehydrated" he spoke as if she could hear him.

The only sounds that could be heard in the room was the beeping noise of the heart monitor, a good sign that Lois was still with them.

cracking open the water bottle, he poured half of it into the vase. "I have got to get you some new ones. I know how much you hate peonies. It's sad how much your own husband doesn't know about you"

There were countless amount of times Lois had stumbled into the hospital, drunk and in the worst conditions. She told him that she worked the best drunk, he rolled his eyes upon hearing that. Charlie made sure that he treated every cut, bruise, and gouge on her body as delicately as he could manage.

He also always made sure to give her a little lolipop for her cooperation once they were done, knowing how much she disliked being treated like a child by her doctors. Charlie loved seeing her roll her eyes once he pulled a sucker out of the little jar that he kept on his desk for the little kids, it puts a smile on his face.

"You know you don't have too, im not a child" She still took the candy with a 'thank you', giving him a side hug. He inhaled her sweet scent. A cold, empty feeling, consumed him as she walked out of his office.

(Lois smells like into the night from b&bw btw)

During those times Lois was seeing him, they developed a small bond of some sort, with her telling him a lot of stuff about her self and her personal life.

For one he knows that Lois's favorite flowers were carnations, she hated peonies because they brought back bad memories. He looked at those sad, withering peonies sitting in its vase. He should toss those in the trash, it's not like she would really want them anyway.

She told him about how she truly felt about her husband. she couldn't really stand him all that much after her daughter, Merritt was born.

"His true colors showed after that, he met this chick at one of his lectures ~ name was Redd, Did I tell you he was a professor?" Charlie shook his head no. "He taught Psychology, philosophy, something like that."

"Well shit, the only thing he ever taught me was to never let my guard down too easily. All he had to do was take me out once or twice after we met and that was it, I was in 'love'." Lois made air quotes using her fingers.

"We spent 20 years together, had a beautiful baby girl, and bought a house. Now the only thing that goes on inside that house is arguing and keeping secrets in places where love and comfort used to be".

Charlie grabbed a cloth and some rubbing alcohol, pouring some on the cloth. "now this might hurt, but I need to disinfect it" he warned her before pressing it on the bad cut Lois had on her side, she hissed at the burning sensation. "Can you tell me how you got this?" He asked, applying pressure to it.

"The perp got me while I was investigating a scene, the motherfucker came out of nowhere ~ Shit!" Lois's voice was strained, She gripped his free hand, he rubbed circles on her palm with his thumb to calm her down, Like he did with other patients might he add!

"And you wanna know the worst part about it!?"

"Yea amuse me"

"my coworker, Megan, you met her Im pretty sure, the girl with the straight honey blonde hair? Anyways, she saw him cut me and just stood there, in shock. How are you supposed to call yourself a detective when you can't even properly react in a situation like that. That's something you're supposed to be prepared for before you even get the job!" She started panicking, the pain went from a 0 to an 100 real fast,

"Oh my gosh! I gotta sit down Charlie, I feel like I'm gonna pass out" He stopped what he was doing and helped her onto the-

( mat bed thingy? Idk what those things are called yall get it tho😭😭)

"There you go Lois, you're doing great" she gave him a really? Look

"You make me feel like a child, you know that?" She replied, holding the cloth on her side while Charlie went over to his desk.

"Wouldn't have it any other way" Charlie opened a pack of clean needles, and grabbed some thread from out one of the drawers "Gonna stitch you up real quick. Now this part is really gonna hurt, but im certain you can handle it"

Lois chuckled "I barely handled the last part"

"you did way better than anyone else that came in here to get stitches, I remember getting bit really bad the last time"

"Really now?"

"Yea I contemplated handing in my badge and walking out right then and there" he put the thread in the needle

"I know that child got their ass whooped when they got home, I know I would've"

"Oh no, it was a grown woman. Now I usually like getting bit, but not that hard, I almost had to get stitches myself"

"You like getting biiiitt? Can I bite you?" Lois said flirtatiously.

"Maybe"

"Ok don't move, Im gonna try to do this as quick as possible" he added, getting on his knees so he could access the cut a little better.

He pierced her with the needle which made her jump, he almost fucked up and ripped her skin. "Lois you gotta stay still, umm tell me something else about yourself"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, I usually rely on you to start the conversation, you're very intriguing"

"You mean Im very strange and dramatic" she corrected him.

"Strange in a good way."

"Well thank you. I don't know what to talk about...

She paused to think and take a sip of her drink, he tried to get her to put it down numerous of times, telling her that she couldn't have alcohol in here and reminding her that alcohol was the reason she was in here in the first place. Alcohol made her clumsy and she knew it, but instead of putting the flask down, she took another sip.

"If alcohol's a one way ticket to see you again, so be it" She tilted the flask towards him him when she said that. Charlie rasied his eyebrows in shock, almost "A-are you flirting with me?" He paused mid stitching.

"Nah Im just playing with you. You're a little too young for me, sweetie." He hummed in acknowledgment, a little disappointed.

"Oh did I tell you about my daughter, Merritt?" Her voice strained again, he rubbed those little circles onto her other thigh which got her to settle down a bit.

"Probably"

"So her husband, Ed and I, One night- and I still feel terrible about it to this day, one night we were up drinking, and got a bit carried away. A-and we screwed to say the least.

Oh....

"Did she ever find out?"

"Yea she came home to me, you know.... giving it to him, and thats when I found out they were together. She resents me for that and another thing. Merritt wants to gain weight, right?, there's nothing wrong with that. But 170 something pounds in just 3 months was very concerning, it disgusted me at first, and I told her how I felt."

"Well-

"Now before you get to judging, I didn't know Ed and her were dating until after that night, and I also want to say that what I said about her weight gain is eating me alive to this day, both of those things are, really"

"you know, Im not the one you need to convince, right?"

"I know, I know. Im just asking you not to judge me for that, I've apologized countless times and Im giving her space." She said. He nodded, making the last stitch, softly so it wouldn't cause her as much pain.

Charlie couldn't bring himself to judge Lois for something like that, after all, he wasn't exactly a goody two shoes himself. Yea what Lois did was bad. but frankly he did worse. He was a murderer and in some instances a cannibal, which was much more terrible than something as simple as adultry.

"I could never judge you, Lois" He said, finally closing the cut.

"alright all done" Charlie helped her up, carefully so she didn't pop her stitches. She held onto his shoulder for dear life, her leg was killing her and she was just ready to go to bed. She walked.. well waddled towards the door.

"Oh wait" he stopped her before she could get to the door. Reaching in the candy jar. She rolled her eyes, a smirk formed on her face as she took the green Sucker from his hand, her favorite flavor. "Almost forgot" he smiled.

"Thanks Charlie" she gave him another side hug, him taking in her sweet scent once again, her hugs made him feel warm inside. "You're welcome, see you later Lois". It was always a later, no matter how careful Lois was when at these crime scenes, or really anywhere. She would always end up back in Dr Charlie's office with something wrong with her.. something he needed to fix.

"Alright now, you take care" Lois said before she walked out, grabbing her purse off the counter before she left, the familiar empty feeling returned. and he longed for her, even if she was just a few steps away...

Sad that was the last time he would be able to see her, the last time she spoke to him for a while.

(The patient waiting for Charlie to stop fucking reminiscing:💀)

"Sleep tight Lois" Charlie turned off the lights in the room, waking out to find his patient that he ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT!

he opened the door to room 104, a Young blonde girl laid in the bed, also in a coma. A small red spot could be spotted on the covers, he pulled it back to reveal a large puddle of blood coming from the girls... regions.

Fuckkk just another thing to deal with. He groaned, going to grab some clean bedding, gloves, wipes, and a diaper...

whilst he was searching for those items, he saw the light to Lois's room on. Someone was obviously in there.. part of him wanted to take a quick peek, but he shook that urge off and grabbed the stuff he needed. He'll check on her later.

Charlie was in a rush today so he immediately got to work cleaning the girl up after changing her sheets. He saw what looked like a small tear in her regional area. "Damm, what happened there" He opened her up a little bit more so he could see better, "it's just a small one, should heal in a couple days" Charlie thought as he reached into the drawer next to the bed, feeling around until he found what he needed, a small tube of ointment that should help the healing process.

After slathering that all over the tear, he put a diaper on her, and tossed the bloodied gloves into the nearby trash. Turning the lights out before he left the room.

He needed to go into his office and get some stuff done before his new patient arrived for their appointment.

"What the hell!?" Charlie heard some commotion going on in Lois's room and rushed to her door. Two people were arguing about something he couldn't pick up on.

"NO YOU'RE NOT, STOP!" her daughter, Merritt yelled at her father. Tears starting to bubble at the corner of her eyes.

"Is everything alright in here!?" He interrupted, Lois's husband, Marshall turned to him, a furious look on his face.

"I WANT TO SIGN THE PAPER WORK TO HAVE HER UNPLUGGED!" he pointed to Lois...

WHAT!?.....

[hotchs-big-hands]

Okay I was gonna ignore this but I just wanna set the record straight for this blog

So yesterday us girlies were discussing Aaron picking reader up, altho I was a bit sceptical imma be real with you but I'm more open to the idea now. It was fun and nice and I just love to be able to discuss with other fellow fat ppl abt hcs that suit us!

And then I received this ask:

And I just 🧍

There's a lot to unpack here.

First of all, I wanna make it VERY clear that while I haven't specifically put this anywhere (altho I probably will now) that this blog is surrounding plus-size readers, THIS BLOG IS CENTERED AROUND PLUS-SIZE READERS. So PLEASE assume I'm talking abt a plus-size reader unless stated otherwise.

When I got this ask, I won't lie to you but it really soured my mood. I was having so much fun talking to my lovely anons and rb stuff and just overall a great time but then this showed up. And I was scared and felt bad that I felt this upset by this but listen.

Fandom spaces are NOT made for anyone except short, skinny, white girls. That's just an undeniable fact. Your average fanfic blog for characterxreader fics has one specific type of reader as the default. You can't say they don't. When I joined this fandom I could count on one hand the amount of AH x plus-size!reader fics there were. And so I thought hey I should maybe contribute and bring more out because we deserve to read something and KNOW we can picture ourselves in the stories too. Even if I haven't put on the asks and gif posts plus-size reader just please assume that's the type of reader I'm talking about.

So onto the content of the actual ask. First of all, stating you KNOW weight and image is a sensitive subject but still telling me DIRECTLY abt how much you weigh and how "bony" you are is fucking unacceptable. You know what you are doing is wrong but you did it anyway. What do you expect me to say to you about how much you weigh and how skinny you must be? Why do I need to know this specific information?? You don't see us fat ppl going around like "oh I weigh THIS amount and uwu my chunky arms and stomach are soooo detrimental to other ppl's comfort 🥺🥺" because why? The only exception is the B-belly anon and fic I wrote for them because I have the same stomach type and understand how they feel.

And if you're actually THAT concerned about your health like you claim to be? Go to a fucking doctor. I'm not a fucking doctor. I'm a 23 year old dumbass in 2nd year of uni doing illustration. It's the attempted manipulative language in this whole ask that just left a sour taste in my mouth.

Am I saying skinny/slim ppl can't be insecure? Fuck no. ANYONE can be insecure. But the world is more willing to support and uplift skinny ppl than fat ppl. So we have to uplift each other and ourselves. And so because of that if the conversation isn't relatable enough for skinny people then they feel the need to directly insert themselves and make it all about them. I'm sorry but no. Not here you're not. You want to feel uplifted abt your fave character? Go read the hundreds of other fanfics that exist with your body type in mind. And if you disagree with this take then like. I don't really fucking care. Block me.

To the anon who did write this and if you're reading this post now:

I don't hate you. But this was not very nice and not okay to do. Again, if you're that concerned abt your health then talk to a doctor. This is HOPEFULLY the first and last time I'll need to talk about this.

If you've read this far I thank you and apologies for making the dash a bit sour. But I just couldn't keep this out of my mind.

[ronearoundblindly]

Time and Tines (Preview)

an excerpt of Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader

Excerpt summary: With Buck's encouragement, Steve asks an interested, beautiful woman to dance. Surprisingly, it goes well. That's not the only surprising part...

A/N: Overall, this challenge is about bittersweet, doomed love, and while the excerpt is from the beginning (and thus more light-hearted), I wanted to sneak this in as a warning: it goes downhill from here. Mentions of needles/poison. WC 1098

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I’m a miserable dancer.” You lift your bejeweled clutch up alongside your lemon-lime soda. “Besides how would I carry it all?”

“Well, if they’d make dresses with fuller skirts like they used to, you wouldn’t have that problem. The world regressed that way. Real shame.”

“Don’t like the form-fitting gowns?” you cock your head with wide eyes.

Steve’s gaze snaps to his shoes, hoping to choke off the heat rising in his cheeks. It only chokes his words. “Oh, oh god, no. They’re lovely. I meant, ya know, pockets and…I just—I didn’t want anything to stop you.“

“Me neither.”

You take him in with a warm assessment and a quick evaluation of the room, tucking your lip between your teeth briefly. “You’re in luck,” you add with a laugh. “I’m about to blow your mind, Captain.”

He watches you open the clasp, fish around inside the tiny bag—barely an envelope, really, but Steve learned from Natasha that ladies can hold a scary amount in those things,— and pull out a silvery length like a party trick from the minuscule confines. The new strap allows you to toss the purse over your shoulder.

You present the transformation like it’s a superpower.

“Nifty,” Steve coos.

You nod an acceptance of his awe. “I am nothing if not prepared.”

“And now—“ he offers his hand again “—out of excuses. Bucky tells me I am ��a sight to behold’ and not in a good way. Shall we prove him right in solidarity?”

You head to the open floor, guided by Steve’s lead. “Not gonna try to prove him wrong?”

He swings you around to face him. “How would I always win as Cap if I bet like that?”

You hum while Steve settles a hand over the satin at your waist. “Picking your battles, huh?” Free and delicate hands land at his shoulders before one smooths down his sleeve, your eyes never leaving his. “And I’m a fight waiting to happen?”

He gets lost for a few bars until he shows his true colors and winces.

“Well, my toes are fighting with yours, clearly.” 

But you simply laugh.

Steve’s brain turns over the steps and his apologies and then finally lands on a good line way after the fact. “Or, no, wait, I’ve got it now.” He squares his shoulders a little more and deepens his voice, comically.

“You’re worth fighting for.”

The snort huffed in his face is perfect, the grin that splits your painted lips over shining white teeth blinding and well worth his efforts.

“Oh wow. See!” He earns a featherlight slap to the chest. “You do have your charming moments, Captain Rogers.”

“Steve, please—“ he fakes leading you off the floor “—and could we go repeat that in front of—“

“—the extremely grumpy man gripping a beer bottle?” Your sights land across the room toward the bar. “I don’t know, Steve. Your critic looks pretty…something.”

Steve frowns when he sees Bucky. As his friend speaks with Dr. Avani, Bucky’s face pinches solid as stone, overly serious beside the doctor’s casual body language. Buck indeed looks pissed for no reason. 

Steve squints in apology. “He’s not—that’s just—I promise he’s not like that—“

Where was that teasing joy from a minute ago?

Steve contemplates that still when your hands release him, and his focus snaps back.

“I need to use the ladies’ room anyway,” you shrug, rubbing a palm up and down your bare arm.

“And then fireworks?” Steve inserts hopefully, almost removing his suit jacket right then to drape over your shoulders. He sounds like an excited schoolboy, and he’s again glad that Bucky is far enough away not to know how obvious he’s being.

You smile, a graceful tug at the dark, matte lipstick sculpted over your full—Rogers. Then a little nod is all you offer before turning to the hall, bag bouncing at your hip on its magic chain.

Steve watches you go, meandering over to Bucky while his head still glances in your last known direction until his friend grunts to get his attention.

Avani is gone, but Buck’s face remains sour.

“What on earth did Doc say? Some intel for a mission.” Steve’s only half-curious and fully-distracted though.

His friend just waves off the mood. “Where’s your girl?”

“She’s not…” Steve shakes his head.

“Fine. Where’s your girl for the night?” Bucky raises one eyebrow.

“You know that sounds even worse now than it did back then, right?”

“Well?” Bucky looks around inquisitively.

“Powder her nose—” Steve smirks with rosy cheeks “—then watching the light show.”

He gets a solid smack between his shoulders and a proud nod.

Steve tries to remain patient, he really does, but after a few minutes and nearly every guest settled into their own viewing spot across the long balcony, he checks back over his shoulder.

Nothing.

He excuses himself from Bucky’s side and wanders toward the hallway.

Yes, he knows he’ll look too interested and a bit stalker-esque, but he doesn’t want to miss the show—he doesn’t want you to miss the show with him. There’s gonna be this beautiful display in the sky and you’ll be engrossed enough that he can just look at the changing colors glow across your…

What?!

Around one corner of the wall, Steve sees a foot, one shiny, brown men’s dress shoe, and then another. Someone’s kneeling—shaking if the tremor of rolling toes is any indication—and then there you are standing over him.

“Doctor Avani?” Steve croaks, watching you raise a syringe and needle high over the man’s head.

You ignore Steve’s arrival.

The doctor’s eyes don’t break from you as he shrieks, “Captain, she’s mad. She—“

“How dare you? Bastard,” you bite out, heaving your weapon at the doctor’s exposed throat as Steve lunges forward.

It punctures the thick, luxurious navy fabric of Steve’s suit, and he feels the slight swelling pressure of liquid entering his forearm.

You release your grip, eyes wild and teeth bared. Gone is the sweet and serene woman he shared a drink and danced with.

The syringe stays lodged in Steve’s flesh as he pushes the doctor aside to shield him, but it’s too late for you.

Bucky followed behind him and now wraps your arms behind your back while you struggle to inch toward Avani, spitting insults.

“What was it?” Bucky demands. “What’s in there? What poison?”

Steve rips the needle out, checking it for any clues.

With a scowl, your fierce gaze stays on the doctor.

“Ask him. It’s his brand of suffering.”

\o/ Predictions? Squees? Let me hear 'em, gang! It's always a delight reading your thoughts.

[Main Masterlist]

[bitternanami]

im really really excited by this idea, i think its brilliant. on reading this post it had me thinking, like. how much expertise would be necessary to produce something like that? what would it take to implement it?

if i may im gonna spitball a little on this. pls bear with me, bc im going into a fair bit of detail as to potential hurdles, but overall i dont think this is unachievable at all. it would help a lot of people enormously.

im also putting it under a cut bc it got Really Long. oops

(ill note im coming at this from a usamerican perspective, so im not sure how this would work globally, though that would obviously be the larger objective. more research needed.)

i think the main reason this might prove difficult is that a lot of the time, comorbidities with chronic illness can span across the fields of a variety of different specialists. specialists who absolutely Hate to talk to each other 🙄

depression borne of thyroid disease is a great example here. i would be surprised to run into a psychiatrist who even like.. knows that that is a thing that can happen, or at least has internalized it to the extent that its something they would honestly suggest. doing that would mean putting into focus the interconnectedness of human bodymind systems, which doesnt jive well with the way the health industry has compartmentalized our care into distinct little boxes at all.

and this obviously sucks. it leaves our hypothetical patient out in the rain, with no real recourse to learn what the actual problem is, short of doing all of these doctors' jobs for them, as is the case now. ideally it would not work like this at All, but if we assume that for our purposes here that we're maneuvering within the flawed framework as it exists, then it means giving practitioners across the board access to multidisciplinary information they otherwise wouldnt be bothered to look for themselves. in order to do that, one needs to compile it in the first place.

creating an accurate, referable directory of comorbidities with the according sets of diagnostic checklists would have to be a multi-pronged effort, because of how varied and multifaceted the area of study is. so itd likely require the formation of several specific focus groups consisting of ppl from a range of bgs, most critically those with lived experience, as well as good-faith medical scholars. each of these groups could maybe develop a list of common symptoms, comorbidities that currently exist in patients, risk factors.. answers to the question 'what does it look like when you have both [x] and [y]?'

like, the answers to those questions Exist already ! the raw quantitative data isnt necessarily there rn--we're not currently recording a lot of these statistics outside of like. medicaid/medicare, which means the sample set is inherently gonna have some degree of bias, but even still thats Something to work with. we can use what we have to back up any findings and like. Tell people about them.

when it comes to pitching this resource to the established systems.. training existing practitioners as well as appending this information to medical curricula…. who has the authority to do this? legislature? national health associations? those are made of people, and like…. in theory we can talk to people, right?

i mean, im definitely being reductive abt the amount of bullshit youd have to wade through to enact this on a large scale; i know doctors are a standoffish, stubborn bunch on the whole, and therefore no doubt highly resistant to change of any sort. but the healthcare system has been improved before, yknow? it sucked to do and it happened too slowly. many many many lives could have been improved, saved, if the those treating us considered it a priority to listen to sick people. but if they dont want to do that, then there must be ways to make them.

upon implementation, the database would also require updating as we collectively learn things about chronic illness, in order to make a questionnaire/test directory like that a functional tool even as research progresses. so you need the resources to do that, to be up on the current medical texts alongside regularly repeating the initial fact-finding process, to see what, if anything, has changed over time. maintenance would comparatively be a lot simpler than establishing it in the first place tho.

like, its a large large project. it might be out of an individual's means but it really feels doable when i look at it as a, a grant proposal to bring to a nonprofit or patient advocacy group or something. id need to look into whats out there for chronic illnesses broadly, bc i know a large number of those are focused on specific diagnoses, but. i dont know!! am i way off base here ?? are there people working on projects like this already? is it embarrassingly naive to think theres a chance of actually affecting how this all works???

when you get diagnosed with a chronic illness they should automatically offer you free tests for the ten most common comorbidities.

bc chronic illnesses DO often come in bundles like that and people experiencing them often struggle with recognizing symptoms in things we’ve lived with sometimes for our entire lives meaning we have to a) identify that something we experience is a symptom of something that hasn’t been diagnosed and b) believe it’s possible/important/realistic to address that symptom AND c) communicate this to our doctors often/clearly/emphatically enough that we eventually can get tested AND, usually, d) figure out what’s causing it ourselves because let’s be real doctors often don’t care enough to figure it out themselves and will often just shrug unless you mention a specific possible diagnosis for them to check

and all of this could be made one trillion times easier if after someone did that ONCE and got diagnosed, if it was standard practice for the doctor to then pull out their handy dandy reference app and put in the New Diagnosis and be given a list of the most common comorbidities that they must now check you for.

like they don’t even have to run the lab tests if that’s too expensive! Just go over the diagnostic criteria and proactively ask, “Do you experience these symptoms?” and suddenly people will have adequate diagnoses and possible treatment options SO much faster

[thefanficmonster]

Graphic Novel

Corpse Husband x Physical Therapist!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of Physical Therapy Methods, Swearing (Maybe)

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse tells his friends about his decision to switch physical therapists while recounting all the times he’s had with the previous one who he was working with - Y/N L/N.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your amazingly creative request, I’ve had a blast writing it! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

It hasn’t been easy getting back into that streaming chair after the major change in his life that has just occurred. It’s gonna take him a long time to get used to doing the thought of taking a different route to get to a different treatment center to meet up with a whole new physical therapist after a three year journey with a therapist he grew to like and whose company he thoroughly enjoyed during every session. They were close friends by the time he decided to switch to a new one, knowing that was the best course of action under these circumstances.

“That’s confusing...“ Rae is the first one to express her thoughts about the situation after Corpse has come forward and confessed what’s been going on and why he’s been absent. To be fair, she has every right to be puzzled by all this - everyone upon finding something or someone great would do the complete opposite of what Corpse has done, they’d hold on, especially if it’s their health in question. He himself just expressed his doubt that he’ll probably ever find someone quite as skilled, talented and professional as Therapist L/N which has confused the gang even more. “Why’d you leave them? They sound like a dope person. I don’t think there are many professionals in their field with that great of an attitude. It’s important to make a proper connection with the patients a doctor is treating to build trust and paint themselves as a reliable person.“

See, all these points Rae is making are more than valid. From her point of view, Corpse has zero reason to drop Y/N, it’s complete nonsense to her and to every other person listening in on the conversation. It’s a very personal topic which is thankfully not being recorded to avoid any rumors surfacing and people trying to dig into who may be the therapist in question - there are not many physical therapists with that last name in San Francisco after all. He just wants to part ways with them while maintaining both of theirs privacy.

“I don’t think it was going anywhere. Like, they helped me plenty physically, but it felt more like a psychiatric session every time cause they’d just let me vent and offer me solutions and advice for my problems and I really don’t want them wasting their time with me anymore. Their area of expertise doesn’t cover my psychological issues but they were somehow able to help me with those as well yet I eventually started feeling like a burden to them regardless of how many times they had told me they enjoyed my company.“ His voice turns sour and bitter at the mention of the amount of fun the two had in Y/N’s office. I’m talking board games, video games, pictionary, you name it. They are both so childish and formed such a strong connection between them, it was unbelievable and many would call it nonprofessional too. He couldn’t have them risking their job because of their friendship with them. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he knew he was the reason behind them hypothetically getting fired. Better safe than sorry, they say.

“So, have you met up with your new therapist since you signed them?“ Sykkuno asks as to fill the silence.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I mean, he’s no Y/N but I think we’re gonna get along nicely. He has no idea who I am, thankfully.“ Corpse replies, falling a bit in thought for a moment before chuckling, “Y/N didn’t know who I was either...“

“So you’re telling me you’re important or something?“ They ask, one eyebrow suspiciously raised at their patient as they massage and rotate his left arm.

“Mhmm,“ he hums, confirming, “I wouldn’t say important, bur I am kinda famous.“

Their eyebrows furrow together with displeasure, “Oh no, are you a back bench politician?”

He huffs out a laugh looking up to meet their confused and mildly anxious gaze, “No, not a politician. A YouTube streamer, gamer if you will.”

A smile stretches at the corners of their relief as obvious relief fills their eyes, “That’s a lot better than a politician. What ya known for, what game?”

“Well, I first started out as a horror story narrator and then climbed the ladder. I have one game in particular to my name, you might’ve heard of it - Among Us?“

“Oh yeahhh! I know it! However, I must admit I’m a real horror junkie and...“ they look over at the highly heated pads they’d have to put on Corpse’s arms to increase the blood flow, knowing it’ll burn like hell although it won’t cause any actual damage, “You know, that’s a perfect distraction!“

“From what???” He asks, a panicked look shot Y/N’s way as he realizes he’s about to be put under some pressure or pain unlike before. He’s not so much afraid of the experience itself as much as he’s really not looking forward to having to control his reaction in front of them.

They chuckle nervously but cover it up with ease, “Oh nothing, don’t worry about it! You just go on and tell me a scary story.”

He smiles warily, but still somewhat certainly, “Your wish is my command.”

“Aww, you two sound like you’d make the baddest duo! Something straight out of a graphic novel or something!“ Rae gushes, clearly upset said novel won’t have the ending she’s hoping for.

“Are you talking about a graphic novel where the doctor and patient fall for one another?“ Questions the ever so insightful Toast who almost never lets things slip him by. 

And that’s how he’s got the whole VC silent.

“Not really the one you’re thinking of...“ Corpse trails off, “There’s not much to risk when I’m no longer their patient, is there?“

“No, there’s not.“ Another voice on his end confirms his claim, supporting the aforementioned theory of the love affair.

“Ok, NOW it makes a ton more sense!“ Rae exclaims, seemingly relieved yet still shocked by the twist of events.

“How I wish I had you guys place bets, I would’ve been eighty dollars richer now!“ Toast laughs, pleased with himself, “And Corpse!“ He catches his friend’s attention with ease, “That’s one hell of a graphic novel, one I’d definitely read.“

Little does he know Corpse and Y/N still can barely wrap their heads around what has happened. The speed at which their lives have turned around and changed so drastically, all for them to be able to call each other theirs without the stakes having to be through to roof. Somewhere between the rounds of monopoly and pictionary, the two got caught up with themselves, eyes locked, proximity increased.

Lips suddenly connected.

There’s been many times they crossed the professional boundary with the nonprofessional kiss here and a touch of the hands there but it’s history now. Now they have no boundary, no tightrope to be walking on. Just flat ground, a clear sky above a calm sea ahead.

He keeps going to therapy, with Y/N’s help at home and they get to keep their job. And yet they both get their ‘happily ever after.’ Toast is right, this is one hell of a story and Corpse and Y/N are hella lucky to be living it.

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[offbrandhange]

AOT if you were sick | 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

Headcanons on how some of the AOT boys would help/comfort you when sick! :)

Characters: Armin, Connie, Eren, Erwin, Jean, Levi, Niccolo, Reiner,

Gender: Neutral, no references to readers’ gender ! :)

a/n: I haven’t been feeling well lately so badabam badaboom here we go. Also I am trying a new format because I’m pretty sure when I write the bullet points it looks wonky on mobile?...I dunno man :/

𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

Right off the bat, Armin would ask what your symptoms are. Immediately after telling him he’d rush out to the pharmacy to pick up meds, and probably some comfort food, too.

How does he comfort you?

Armin would comfort you by bringing you things you need like medicine, wet towels, clean clothes, food, etc. Constantly, and I mean constantly asking if you want anything.

He probably would also set up a little sick-station in the living room with a blanket, pillow, cup of water, wet towel, bowl of soup, etc. and put on a TV show you like and just...chill while you watch or nap (if you fall asleep midway through).

Would they take/call off work to take care of you?

Only if you were super sick. He would 1000% be worried about you while at work, though. You’d get “How are you doing” messages every hour, and he’d totally end up annoying the sh*t out of his co-workers for constantly talking about you being ill. Armin would probably also pick up a little snack/gift for you on his way home.

Are they still physically affectionate?

Most likely not. Armin would be scared he’d get sick too, and then you’d have to take care of him. If you begged him for a quick kiss, or you really whined for some cuddles, then maybe he’ll indulge.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖊 𝕾𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

“Dang bro, that sucks.” And that’s all he says.

How does he comfort you?

I think if you asked him for something, he’d get you it willingly and eagerly, but otherwise he’s clueless; He assumes you’re good if you don’t say anything.

Connie would comfort you by hanging out with you. Most likely, he’d sit you down on the couch and play video games with you, like Mario Kart; or he’d show you him killing a really hard boss. I think he’d also send you funny videos/tiktoks, and I mean like, the really dumb ones, where it’s like...a fart sound effect over an image of a truck. Or a, “Can I touch that badonkadonk fool?”

Would they take/call off work to take care of you?

Yup, especially if you asked. I feel like Connie would take any chance he could to take off work, and you being sick would be his opening. He wouldn’t leave you alone all day, either; You’re stuck with him.

Are they still physically affectionate?

Connie does not care if you’re sick. You’re gonna get the same amount of treatment, maybe more if you whine and snuggle into his chest. He thinks you’re even more cute when you’re sick.

𝕰𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

Eren would say something like, “Oh. Are you alright?” If you said no, he’d make you a snack or ask if you want anything. Afterwards he would chill with you and probably cuddle or snuggle you. I doubt he would really worry, he’d be real calm about it.

How does he comfort you?

He’d bring you something if you needed it. The only time I could see him getting fussy about it though, is if you interrupted him while he was totally invested in a video game or on a work call.

Most definitely snuggles with you in bed. Probably would do something to tease you too, kissing down your neck and saying “Are you better yet? How about now? Are you better yet?” I can see Eren being totally down for an afternoon nap together anytime you wanted.

Would they take/call off work to take care of you?

He would ask you if you wanted/needed him to. If you said yes he would, even if you weren’t really sick. Likewise, if you said you’re fine, but were far from fine, he’d call BS and stay home too; if you kept saying he didn’t need to, it’s very likely his stubborn a*s would argue with you and take off anyways.

Are they still physically affectionate?

Definitely. Eren would still, probably even more than usual, baby the ever-loving sh*t out of you. There’s no escaping his cuddles, kisses, or more...sexual activities.

𝕰𝖗𝖜𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

Erwin, like Armin, would ask what’s wrong right away. Except he would completely annoy you by asking a million f*cking questions about your symptoms. He’d probably google them too and list a ton of possibilities that are so far-fetched. He’d end up scaring HIMSELF and forcing you to go to the doctor.

How does he comfort you?

Up your A**. Every five seconds he would be like, “Need something? You’re sure? You’re sure you’re sure? I know I was here five minutes ago, yeah, but I’m just making sure. So you’re sure?”

Pets your head, ruffles your hair. Goes out to pick up medicine, snacks, maybe even flowers. Probably tries to brush your teeth for you. You know, Erwin things.

Would they take/call off work for you?

Y E S. Yes. This man would call off the whole WEEK. He wouldn’t leave you alone, either. The whole damn day he’d be breathing down your NECK. Even if the only discomfort you felt was a scratchy throat. He’d make you call off work too.

Are they still physically affectionate?

I feel like Erwin is on the verge of being either, “Yes, princess, let me hold you.” or, “Oh no, no, no, we can’t be having that. Oh no, no, no. No passing illnesses, sweetie.” If the second were true, the only way to get him off your back would be by threatening to hug him while snot was dripping down your nose. This grown ass man would probably be screaming like a (very deep-voiced) little girl and running for dear life.

𝕵𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

Jean would be so FREAKING sweet, and nobody can tell me otherwise. He’d say something like, “Awe, baby. Are you okay? Want anything?” He genuinely cares; although, immediately afterward he did anything nice or caring for you, he’d text all his dude friends and be like “yo man I’m SUCH a good boyfriend.” and brag his a*s off.

How does he comfort you?

He’d ask every once in a while if you needed anything, and he’d randomly bring you stuff like soup or a fresh cup of water. He’d probably feed you it, too.

Depending on what you wanted, Jean would either leave you alone or smother you to death. If you wanted him to leave you alone he’d check in on you every so often, and if you wanted him to smother you, he’d literally follow you all around the house. I’m talking like, cuddling or napping on the couch/bed, or straight up just following you around like an overly-attached child. His arms would be around your waist, chin on your head, and he’d waddle behind you like a d*mn penguin. And that includes trips to the bathroom. He’d probably sit outside the bathroom and wait for you, though.

Would they take/call off work for you?

If you wanted him to, were really sick, or if you were incredibly pitiful and acting like you were on your deathbed. Otherwise, I think he’d still go to work. He would bring home snacks and flowers afterwards though.

Are they still physically affectionate?

Oh my god, Jean would still be all over you. Like, there wouldn’t be a moment you’d be free from his hold. He’d probably still want to have sex with you, too as long as you were feeling well enough for it...The only exception would be if you got too over-heated or over-whelmed, then he’d very sadly hold back. Like a scolded pup, he’d just sit there...watching you...wishing you were in his arms.

𝕷𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

You would tell him you’re not feeling well, and the first thing this man’d say would be, “What is it? You have the sh*ts? Something not coming out?” He’d get you what you needed immediately after you told him what was really wrong, though; but he’d also, very discreetly slip you a box of anti-diarrheals, too, just in case.

How does he comfort you?

Every once in a while he will ask if you need something. He’s not too over-bearing nor distant. Although, he’s probably constantly slipping you hand-sanitzers, and cleaning your room, or anything you’ve touched. It’s for your, and his sake. Oh, and he’s not handing you anything, either; he’s throwing it at you to catch. Or slipping his hand through the door with a bowl of soup/cup of water, and placing it on the floor/nearest surface. Kind of like when a cat pushes their paw through a crack, then disappears, and you’re like, “oh, would you look at that.”

I don’t think Levi would really want to be too close since he’s kind of a clean-freak, so he’d comfort you through, maybe, sending you low-quality cat memes he found on the web. Or he’d put on one of those full-on, ugly, yellow hazard suits and hold your hand while watching a reality-TV show like The Bachelorette meanwhile mocking them to oblivion. You’re legally required to laugh at the comments he makes about the people on the show; he’s doing it to be funny. He’s just awkward.

Would they take/call off work to take care of you?

If you were pitiful, or not that sick, no. If you were genuinely pretty sick, then he’d call off work. He wouldn’t bug you, he’d just...stand in the corner and watch you. Just...he’d be there. Also still in his hazard suit. With his arms crossed.

Are they still physically affectionate?

No. Absolutely not. Not unless you’re talking about him and the cleaning supplies. I think if you tried to go anywhere near him, he’d get really mad and threaten you with a spray-bottle filled with water.

I think he would be upset, though. Like, I could see him having a calendar and just...sadly, squeakily dragging that marker down to form an X over the day to see how long you were sick, waiting ‘till you were better so he could hug you again.

𝕹𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

In a worried, but also kind of loving-scolding way, he’d say something like, “Geez, how’d this happen?” Immediately after he’d make you some homemade soup with fresh ingredients. Only after he would give you your medicine, because it needs a, “full stomach to work.”

Additionally, if he makes you food, don’t tell him if you can’t taste it. Please, god, don’t. He’ll feel like he did all that work for nothing then get annoyed.

How does he comfort you?

Constantly bringing you food or desserts. When he asks if you need anything, his mind jumps to a food or drink instead of medicine or a wet towel, because that’s just his strong-suit.

I feel like he would hang out with you and let you lay your head on his chest while you watched TV together. I picture him saying something like, “Hey babe, let’s watch Hell’s Kitchen.” Or, alternatively, “Hey babe, let’s watch Kitchen Nightmares.” Don’t watch Kitchen Nightmares with him. Those unclean kitchens will make HIM vomit, too.

Would they take/call off work to take care of you?

Niccolo probably wouldn’t call off, but he would make you a whole bunch of yummy meals for you to eat the next day. He’d probably leave you a cute little note too, like a “Feel better, love you! :-D” with hearts all over it.

Are they still physically affectionate?

Depends on what kind of sickness you had. I think if you lost your taste he’d draw the line, simply because he needs to be able to taste the food he makes. Also, it frustrates the sh*t out of him when he loses his taste. Otherwise, I think he’d be down to cuddle, and very limitedly, kiss.

𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖚𝖓 ~

After telling him you’re sick...

Gets VERY concerned. Wants to take you to the doctor, even if it’s a light illness, because he wants to make sure it’s nothing bad. He wouldn’t leave you alone after you tell him you’re sick, either. Constantly by your side.

How does he comfort you?

You wouldn’t need to ask for anything, because he already has everything for you. You’re surrounded in snacks, bottles of water, blankets, pillows, wet towels, medicine, literally anything you need, it’s already there. He’ll even offer to carry you to the bathroom, just so you don’t have to move.

Reiner would probably cuddle with you and put on a romance, family, or Disney movie. If it’s extra emotional, it’s gonna make him extra emotional. He will be squeezing you for dear life and just saying stuff like, “Boy, I don’t know what I’d do without you...”

Would they take/call off work to take care of you?

Yes, even if all you had was the sniffles, Reiner would have already called off, and make you call off too. He just thinks that’s what you should do if a loved one is sick. If he left you alone, he’d get worried you’d end up falling or unable to get something you need. He wants to be there for you.

Are they still physically affectionate?

Reiner would, but in a much more sweet way. He’s genuinely really worried for you, and doesn’t like seeing you sick. So be prepared for him to constantly be holding you with your head on his chest, and him peppering kisses all over your face.

[mossybee-exe]

Kitty|Aizawa x Adult! Reader PART THREE

Part Two

Sum:After being sick for a while, you two are met with a surprise that causes things to spiral out of control.

The past week you have been MISERABLE!

You were nausea, throwing up every morning, having weird cravings and strange mood swings, and some days, Aizawa couldn't even stay with you and help care for you because of work!

You two just thought you were very sick but after a week of this, you two finally visit the hospital. Not what you usually do on Sundays but Aizawa was worried to heck about you and you were worried about yourself.

You two were in the waiting room right now, squeezing each other's hands nervously.

That's when a nurse walks out holding a clipboard. "Mr. Aizawa and Ms. L/N?" She calls out. You two stand up and follow the nurse to another small examination room. "The doctor will be in shortly!"

And with that, you two sat there in nervous silence. "What if it's something bad?" You ask looking over at him. "Don't worry. I'm sure it won't be." Aizawa reassures you.

The doctor soon walks in. "Alright so why are you two here today?" He asks. You then explain all of your symptoms that you've been feeling.

The doctors writes all of these down on his clipboard before looking back up at you. "Alright if you come with me we will just take a couple of quick tests." That made you tense up even more and look over at Aizawa, who gave you a real glance.

You nod and follow the doctor out of the room.

After a few minutes, you came back alone. "The doctor said we'll have to wait for a few more minutes for the results." You tell him, and he nods, having you sit down beside him, gripping his hand again.

What if I have some sort of illness?? What if I'm dying or something?? You think to yourself frantically, squeezing Aizawa's hand tighter.

Who knows what was going on in his head at that time! Cuz he looked calm, but he was SCREAMING INSIDE!

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the doctor comes back in. "Alright we got the results!" He says. "Is it something bad?! Is she okay??" Aizawa asks immediately after.

"Relax! It's nothing majorly bad! Probably more good if anything." The doctor says. "L/N is pregnant!"

You both sat there, faces in complete shock! That's not at ALL what you two were expecting!

If anything it was the LAST thing you'd suspect!

"Are you absolutely sure?? Maybe it just ran wrong or something!" You ask but he shakes his head. "Nope. 100% accurate." He tells you, before walking out.

Leaving you two in silence, still trying to process this.

What were you two going to do?? You two aren't even married yet! You haven't even official started TALKING about getting married, much less having children!

"W... What are we going to do..!" You ask, quietly, looking over at Aizawa's shocked face. He shrugs with a small. "I don't know."

You two just arrive back home without saying anything, before sitting on the couch.

That's when it REALLY hit. You begin crying as you hide your face with your hands, causing Aizawa's face to snap over at you. "W-what are we going to do??! I-I mean we're not even married, you are always so busy with hero work and school and-"

"Y/N, breathe. It's okay." He tells you calmly, helping you calm down with breathing. You sigh eventually calming down. "But what are we going to do?"

"Well what do you want to do?" He asks. "It's your body."

You think to yourself for a long while.

"Well... I don't want to get an abortion, because it just sounds awful... So, I think we should keep it.." You mutter, hoping Aizawa wouldn't judge you. But he just nods and brings you close to him. "I can agree with that. We'll figure something out."

You two then just sat there for the rest of the day, and both of you couldn't help but be at least a LITTLE bit excited for getting a child. And by a little I mean by a pretty big amount.

I'm gonna be a mom...

[spicysoftsweet]

A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn​‘s Hanahaki collab! 

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?” 

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment. 

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?” 

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected. 

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured. 

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other. 

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye. 

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you. 

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic. 

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly. 

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right. 

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss. 

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent. 

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail. 

It couldn’t be. Not you. 

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building. 

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly. 

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you. 

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up. 

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other. 

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection? 

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any. 

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you. 

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

[georgiapeach30513]

Omg could we please get some protective daddies who support their pregnant princess and a little sneak peek to the birth of the triplets 🥺💕✨

Oh but can you imagine how they won't make her do ANYTHING?? And let's be honest having triplets and those two beefy men are they daddy, she is going to be so stretched. They would never put her in a position where she needed to be protected while pregnant, but supportive 🥺😩

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Complete Now

Summary: Two beefy men just loving on their Little Princess

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Little Princess!Reader X Curtis Everett

Rating: It's so fluffy

Warnings: soft!Ari, soft!Curtis, D/s dynamics, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 650

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Ari & Curtis Masterlist

"I'm tired," you whine, Ari's hand rubs along your ridiculously large belly and you hate it. "Stop, daddy," attempting to pull down your shirt, but Ari tsks you pulling it back up.

"It's beautiful, just like you are. These are our babies in there. Your body is changing for them."

"I hate it. Look at it, I look like a tiger. And then you two look like literal gods," Curtis kneels down on the bed, and both their lips kiss along your stretch marks. "This is not attractive you two. Why did there have to be three? It's like you guys have super sperm."

"There was never any part of you did not like it when we were leaking out of your cunt," Ari hums. "Like I said, you're beautiful. We will tell you this everyday of your life if we have to.

"You, our pretty Little Princess, need a bath. Come on, let's get you cleaned, it's almost time. How are you feeling?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. You're scheduled for a C-section in the morning, and you would be an idiot to think you weren't terrified. "I'm scared. They're so little."

"Princess, the doctor said they're fine. He said it's time, multiples are almost always born early, and you've got three of our cubs in there. Do you honestly think they're going to be small for long?"

"You're right. So, we've decided Arleigh is going to be our Bunny. What about Owie and Evaluna?" you giggle at the two of them.

"Oh Evaluna is going to be our Ducky for sure," Curtis peppers kisses all over your tummy. "We gave the girls a nickname, how about you give Owin his nickname?"

"What is it you call the babies Ari, our little cubs?" pulling him down you give him a soft kiss, to his lips. "Owin is going to be my little Bear Cub."

"Our own petting zoo. Oh, I hope they don't act like Ari."

"As opposed to what? Your constant brooding?"

"Boys boys, help your baby mama to the shower, we've got a long day tomorrow. Gonna make my daddies real daddies."

_____________________________________________________________

Ari and Curtis did not like the C-section process. Did not like seeing how 'rough' the staff was with you. It had already been determined once a baby was born, Ari would be the one watching the babies, while Curtis was going to stay right by your side.

That big soft teddy bear's eyes were glistening the whole time when Owin was the first to be born. The nurses commenting how big he was for a triplet. Bringing him over to clean his airways when Evaluna was pulled out, and you felt the immediate tug coming from Curtis, seeing his daughter and having an animalistic need to hold her.

Ari gives him a warning look when they bring her over, placing a crying Owin on your bare chest, "Hey Owie. Oh my gosh," lost in that sweet baby's face when your littlest one is pulled out.

"We found our runt," Curtis chuckles. His eyes staring fondly at little Arleigh, much smaller than her siblings.

"Daddies, you want skin on skin?" those two beefy men take no time in pulling for their shirts. Those baby girls looking so small on their broad chests. The amount of tenderness they show them, and you're surprised by the dreamy look in Curtis' eyes. His calloused finger rubbing along her sweet little cheek, causing her to scrunch up her nose.

"She's doing it Ari. Our little Bunny," the nurses excuse themselves, and you're unsure of who to look at. "We've got our hands full Little One."

"It's so cheesy, but they're not as full as my heart," you smile at the two of them. "I'm never going to get used to see the two of you hold our babies. We're complete now."

Masterlist

[tanyawritesstories]

Love Comes With A Hat | Kung Lao x Reader

So this fic was actually based off of a dream I had a few months ago. It's based off the movie characters looks because that's the way I saw it in my brain. It's the first fic I've written for a Mortal Kombat character so I hope y'all like it and that it's accurate.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: technically there's smut but it's brief, pregnancy, drinking, angst, feelings, pregnant reader, Bo Rai Cho is a warning all his own

•••

You stared at the test in your hand, not experiencing the emotions you expected. You were shocked more than anything, it had only been one random night. It was an accident. An accident you remembered quite vividly. It had started as just a few innocent drinks with Kung Lao, Liu Kang, and their master Bo Rai Cho. But if you learned anything about Bo Rai Cho that night, it was that he liked to drink and he liked to buy drinks for everyone. That's how you and Kung Lao both ended up more drunk than you wanted to be, and if you had learned anything about Kung Lao that night it was that he was a flirty drunk. A very flirty drunk. You were too tipsy to care about your respectful relationship with the Shaolin monk and just happy that your friend was showing you some romantic attention. You shamelessly flirted back and for some reason Liu Kang, who you later learned wasn't actually drunk and just kept lying about the supposed vodka soda he was drinking, let you and his best friend continue to get more and more handsy with one another.

At the end of the night, Liu had dropped off you and Kung Lao at their temporary earthrealm lodge and gone to take Bo Rai Cho home since he was blackout drunk. At least you and Kung Lao could still stand. The second the door was closed and locked, he was on you. His hat was thrown to the side as his lips moulded perfectly with yours. You could taste all the alcohol he'd consumed and it only intoxicated you more. After spending half the time at the bar with his hand up your skirt, Kung Lao wanted the real thing. He had picked you up and set you on the table, laying you down and stripping everything off your bottom half. He eagerly explored the treasure between your legs with his fingers. Even when drunk, Kung Lao was precise with his movements. He brought you to the edge with just his fingers before licking your juices off of them and taking off just enough clothing to free his member and plunge it deep within you.

Everything was a blur after that. He was thick and scraped every euphoric nerve in your body with his movements. Your muscles burned and twitched with every groan and growl he let out, his mouth right next to your ear. It wasn't long before that delicious pressure built back up within you and snapped with a few well aimed thrusts. You remember the warm feeling spread through you as Kung Lao released inside, both of you too drunk to worry about protection beforehand. You laid in an uncomfortable position on the table until Kung Lao pulled out of you and stumbled to the bathroom. You were able to get up and clean yourself off a little, put your skirt back on, and collapse on the sofa. Which is exactly where Liu Kang found you when he got back. He let you sleep and took you back to your apartment in the morning after giving you some herbal pain remedies.

You didn't feel any different the next day, or the next week. You threw up a few times the day after, which you were sure was because of the amount of alcohol you consumed. A whole month and a half passed before your nosey roommate, Mia, brought up the idea that you might be pregnant. She had been keeping track of every strange thing you had done for the past month. From getting up to go to the bathroom in the night more than usual, to the random mood swings, to falling asleep at your desk, and eating pickles with hot fudge the other day. Not to mention, your period was three weeks late and you hadn't even noticed. Mia wanted answers, for you as well as herself, and had already bought you a pregnancy test which she promptly thrust at you.

Now, staring at the little stick that read 'pregnant' in plain English, it was all starting to hit you. You didn't go to see Kung Lao and Liu Kang very often. Once, maybe twice, a month if you weren't busy, to put it simply: you didn't know what to do. You heard knocking on the bathroom door before you heard Mia's voice. "You ok in there, hun?" You blinked back tears of confusion and answered her. "Yeah, I'm ok." You stuck the test in your pocket and exited the bathroom to find Mia standing right outside the door. "So, what's the verdict?" You didn't say anything and just handed her the stick. "I knew it, so who's the daddy?" You cocked an eyebrow at her blunt question but decided to answer. "One of my best friends," you said quietly. Her eyes widened as she handed the test back to you. "That's gonna be tough, how are you gonna do it?" You frowned. "Do what?" She shrugged, the nonchalant look on her face starting to annoy you. "Tell him, ya'know, that he knocked you up." You looked at the test in your hand, feeling the strong urge to just snap it in half. "I don't know."

~~~~

You waited two more months, deciding not to tell Kung Lao. He and Liu were your best friends, you didn't want anything to ruin that. You couldn't stay away from them forever, they were already wondering why you hadn't come over the last couple times they invited you. You sent them your work over the computer instead of in person, all the information you had been gathering about potential new champions. Just a few days ago Liu had called just to check in on you, thinking you might be sick or injured. You assured him you weren't but you knew you didn't convince him, he could spot a lie from a mile away.

You had started going to the doctor, getting the proper care and tests done to make sure you and the baby were healthy. You even had ultrasound pictures of your little one, that seemed to cement something in your mind. You needed to tell Kung Lao. Sooner rather than later, before you started showing, there was no hiding it then.

You called Liu Kang before you left and asked him if you could come stay at their place for a night or two. That concerned him a little bit but ultimately he was glad that you would be coming to see him and Kung Lao again. You packed for a couple days and drove for a few hours into the woods where the boy's temporary earthrealm residence was. It was secluded back in the woods along a river popular with fishermen in the morning hours. It blended in and allowed the boys to hide in plain sight, mixed in with the few other fishing cabins along the river. No outworld ruffian would look there.

You arrived at the cabin later than you wanted to, having stopped three times to use the restroom along the way. You had tried not to pack your bags that heavy but you needed clothes and you needed all your computer equipment for work. You grabbed the lightest bag you had and went inside, hoping one of the boys would be able to help you with the rest. The door was unlocked, as they had been expecting you, and you walked right in. You entered the living room and found that master Bo Rai Cho was also visiting. He was sat plopped in front of his new favorite thing ever since you introduced him to it, the television. You set your bag on the floor and he took notice of you. "Y/N!" He got out of his chair, fast for a man his size, and strode over, pulling you into a tight hug. "It's good to see you again." You winced in his tight hug until he let go and you smiled at him. "It's good to see you too, Master Cho." He returned the smile and clapped you on the shoulder before walking to an open window. "Liu Kang, your friend has arrived!" He shouted.

It was only a few seconds until Liu Kang came bounding into the room from outside. You smiled at him and he walked over to pull you into a hug, he almost seemed relieved to see you. "It is good to see you again," he said, pulling away. You half smiled and nodded. "It's good to see you too, Liu. Um, you mind helping me unload my stuff?" He agreed without a second thought and walked out to your car with you. You stopped by your trunk and swallowed hard, your muscles tense and nervous. How were you going to tell Kung Lao? "Is Kung Lao here? Usually I'd see him," you commented. Liu grabbed a few of the heavier bags, lifting them with ease. "No, he is out running errands. He should be back in an hour." You sighed and hung your head, not knowing what to think of that. "Is something wrong?" You took a deep breath and looked over at the concerned young man. "Liu, I need to talk to you."

You both unloaded your car before walking down by the river, through the small flower garden they'd planted. You both took a seat on top of the retaining wall, separating the river from the land. "Now, what do you wish to speak to me about?" Liu sat with his legs criss-crossed, perfectly relaxed. You tried sitting the same way but ultimately just dangled your legs over the wall. "Um, I know I haven't visited in a while, and there's a reason for that.." you stared at the water, avoiding eye contact. Though you could see Liu out of the corner of your eye, looking at you with a worried expression. "That night I crashed on your couch...did Kung Lao ever tell you what happened?" You hesitantly looked over at Liu and his eyes fell to the dirt. "Yes, he told me the day after." You looked back at the ground and sighed, Liu reached over and placed his hand on your knee. "There is no need to be ashamed, you were inebriated. Your judgement was clouded, both of yours." You closed your eyes trying to will yourself not to cry. "There's more to it.." you figured you just had to say it and blinked away tears, looking over at Liu who had his head tilted in curiosity. "Liu, I'm pregnant."

His mouth slowly dropped open as his mind processed the information. His gaze dropped to the ground and his reaction just made you feel worse. "I know, I'm sorry," you said. He looked back up at you. "It is not your fault," he squeezed your knee reassuringly, "this is Kung Lao's business now, you need to tell him." You sniffled and a tear managed to escape down your cheek. "I know, when he gets back will you tell him I need to talk to him? Maybe, give him and I some privacy so we can talk it out?" Liu nodded and gave you a small smile, "of course." You could tell Liu was still trying to comprehend what you told him as you both walked back to the house and he helped you settle in. He tried to strike up normal conversation but it was awkward, you felt like an outsider. After a while you offered to clean the place to try and distract yourself and neither of the men objected.

Kung Lao was gone for longer than expected but eventually he came back, Liu took him aside while you unpacked the groceries. You saw them standing in the corner talking though you couldn’t hear their words. You stared for a second and could read Liu’s lips. ‘Talk to her’ he was saying. You tried to calm yourself down and at the same time psyche yourself up for what you had to eventually tell Kung Lao.

You had just finished putting everything away when Kung Lao approached you. “Liu Kang said you needed to speak to me, privately,” he said. His tone was curious this time, not as serious as he usually was. “Yeah, can we..” you trailed off as you motioned outside. He nodded and waved for you to go first. You walked back out to the same spot you and Liu had sat earlier, on the retaining wall by the river. Kung Lao took off his hat and set it next to him, he knew it was easier for you to talk to him without it ever since you said it was distracting and you were staring at it instead of him. He smirked at the memory and looked back at you, waiting for you to speak.

“What did Liu tell you I needed to talk to you about?” You asked, wondering how to start the conversation. “He just said you needed to talk and that it was important,” he answered bluntly. You nodded and fiddled with the ultrasound pictures in your hoodie pocket. You had worn it to hide the tiny bump that had started to form over the last couple days. “Um, about that night a few months ago-” “I’m sorry,” he interrupted, “I know I should not have gone that far. We were both not ourselves that night.” You smirked. “No, I’m not complaining, but there’s more to it..” you sighed. “I’m not sure how to tell you this but..” you could see him becoming worried. You took one of the photos out of your pocket and handed it to him. He looked confused but took the blurry image, trying to figure out what it was. “You got me pregnant.”

His eyes widened and he looked over at you. “I’m sorry,” you said with a sad look on your face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to say it but you felt like you had just ruined someone’s life. You watched him as he stared at the picture, nothing was clearly visible but it must have seemed convincing enough to him. You slipped the pregnancy test out of your pocket and showed it to him too. You heard him sigh and just kept silent, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. “How far along are you?” he finally asked, his voice scarily cold. “A little over three months,” you answered. You bit your lip before asking a question you needed an answer to. “What are we going to do?” He handed you the test and picture back. “I don’t know.” He said. You were hurt, he had nothing else to say? Your moment was interrupted by Bo Rai Cho calling out that dinner was ready.

Kung Lao helped you up and you walked inside together, he was silent the entire time. You made eye contact with Liu for a split second as you took a seat at the table and his shoulders fell, your expression gave away your emotions. Bo Rai Cho set down the meal, a kind of special fish concoction he had come up with that you normally loved. This time though, it made your stomach turn. The second the aroma hit your nose, nausea hit you badly and you could practically feel the vomit rising in your throat. “I’m sorry, excuse me,” you said quickly before getting up and dashing to the bathroom. You had just enough time to brush your hair out of the way before you emptied your stomach into the toilet.

“What might be wrong with her?” Bo Rai Cho asked. “I didn’t mess it up again, did I?” Liu looked at Kung Lao, his expression urging the other monk to go check on you since this was his doing. But Kung Lao stayed put and just stared back at Liu Kang, his expression unwavering. You could still be heard throwing up in the bathroom down the hall. Liu finally got up and went to check on you. He grabbed a cup of water and a wet cloth to clean off your face. “Lao?” You asked out loud between dry heaving breaths. “No, it’s me,” Liu answered. He kneeled down next to you and rubbed your back until your body finally stopped it’s rejection. “Why didn’t he come?” you asked, sounding defeated. “He does not know how to, right now. He will learn soon," Liu tried to assure you. "He doesn't want any part of this, I know he doesn't," you admitted as you slumped into the corner. Liu handed you the glass of water and watched as you downed it all, thinking. "He will come around, I will talk to him."

You spent the rest of the night in the spare bedroom, hiding and crying. The realization that if Kung Lao didn't help, you'd basically be left alone to raise a child and that idea terrified you. You hoped Liu could talk some sense into him. You loved Kung Lao, only you didn't know how to tell him. The thought of him completely rejecting you because of this was heartbreaking, you wished there was a better solution or any solution at all. Bo Rai Cho felt bad that his cooking had made you sick and made up for it by making you some calming tea and getting you anything you wanted. But the thing you wanted most was Kung Lao back.

You barely slept that night and asked Liu if he could bring your breakfast to your room. You could smell how good it was from your room but you didn't want to get up, you just wanted to hide. Someone knocked on the door and you called out for them to come in. You expected it to be Liu Kang with your breakfast, but Kung Lao had brought it instead. You immediately looked away from him, all the shame and embarrassment coming back. "May I sit?" He asked. You shyly nodded and allowed him to sit on the edge of the bed and hand you your food. "I thought Liu was bringing me breakfast." You wondered out loud. "I wanted to," he said, "I need to apologize for yesterday. I reacted badly." You shrugged. "You reacted normally to shocking news," you replied, slowly starting to eat your food. Kung Lao looked at the floor as he thought about what to say. "I thought about it all last night and...I want to be a part of it. I'm not going to let you do this alone."

Your eyes locked with his and you could see the sincerity in them. You couldn't believe it, your eyes welled up with happy tears. "You're serious? You want to help me?" You questioned. A small smirk came to his face and he took one of your hands in his. "Yes. This is something that will affect us for the rest of our lives. I want to be a part of my child's life." You set your food aside and threw your arms around Kung Lao, hugging him. He was caught off guard but hugged you back. "We can do this," he whispered in your ear. "When is your next doctor appointment, I want to be there." You pulled away just enough to see his face. "Not for another month, are you sure?" He nodded. "I think it's about time I showed up to one," he said with a smirk.

~~~~

You met Kung Lao in the hospital lobby and checked in with him, finally glad to have him with you. It was a lot less embarrassing and anxiety inducing, despite the fact that most people were staring at his hat. He stayed by your side with one hand on the middle of your back protectively all the way up to the correct floor, where you had to check in again.

"I'm here for an ultrasound appointment," you said to the receptionist. "Alright," she said, glancing questionably at Kung Lao. You smirked to yourself, he was intimidating. Nobody would dare fuck with you while Kung Lao was at your side. "And who have you brought with you today?" The woman asked, looking again at Kung Lao. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it. "I'm her boyfriend, and the father," he answered. The woman nodded and went back to her computer. You turned your head to look at him, a huge smile coming to your face. Not wanting to give anything away, Kung Lao just looked at you and winked.

The receptionist got you checked in and you both sat down to wait for your name to be called. You leaned close to him and whispered. "Boyfriend, huh?" He smirked. "It was the only way I could think to tell you," he said, his tone of voice giving away his teasing. You giggled and rested your head on his shoulder, happy when he put his arm around you in return. Your name was called and you both walked back to an exam room. Kung Lao took off his hat and leaned it against the wall, the room was small and he didn't want to accidentally cut anyone.

The nurse took your vitals and asked you a few questions before leaving you and Kung Lao to wait for the doctor. "Can I see it?" You turned to look at him. "See what?" He uncrossed his arms. "The baby." "You will be able to see it on the ultrasound-" he shook his head, interrupting your sentence. "No, your stomach," he clarified. You understood now and laid back on the table, pulling your shirt up to expose your stomach. Now on month five, your bump was getting increasingly hard to hide.

"Can I touch?" He asked. You nodded with a smile, his curiosity and interest was adorable. Kung Lao placed his hand on your stomach and after a moment he began to rub it around. A sudden discomfort peaked in your stomach area and you looked at Kung Lao, who was as surprised as you. "Was that.." you put your hand on your stomach right next to his and after a couple seconds the discomforting, tiny jolt happened again. "It's kicking!" You beamed, “this is the first time I’ve ever felt it.” Kung Lao took your free hand in his, the look on his face seemed genuinely happy this time. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt,” he said. “Besides the night we made this happen, that is.” You let out an actual laugh, there was the Kung Lao you knew.

The doctor came in and set you all up for the ultrasound. Kung Lao waited impatiently by your side. “The gender should be visible if the baby cooperates, would you like to know?” The doctor asked. You exchanged looks with Kung Lao and came to a conclusion. “Yes, we would like to know,” Kung Lao answered. The doctor nodded and Kung Lao held your hand as the doctor moved the device around your gel covered stomach. The doctor let you both see the screen as they looked around, pointing out things and details that made no sense to you. As long as the baby was healthy that was all that mattered to you.

The doctor finally removed the device and handed you tissue to wipe off your skin. “Looks like he’s all good in there, just stick to what you’re doing and take it easy,” the doctor said. You smiled, “he?” You looked at Kung Lao who looked back at you with a smile. “We’re having a baby boy..” Kung Lao didn’t think, he just pulled you into a tight hug. He’d never been happier in his life. He was going to be a father to a little boy, one he could teach everything he knew, one he could get his own little hat. Everything would be perfect. He kissed your cheek. “I can’t wait to tell Liu Kang.”

[sylvie-writes]

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before. 

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Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine. 

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny. 

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature. 

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather. 

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache. 

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals. 

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.” 

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness. 

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal. 

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon. 

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant. 

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

 At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last. 

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was. 

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke. 

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness. 

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Lunch break at last. 

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest. 

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course. 

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible. 

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty. 

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them. 

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance. 

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven. 

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“Babe, dinner is ready!” 

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten. 

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister. 

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain. 

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple. 

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for. 

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially. 

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more. 

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.” 

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.” 

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt. 

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“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed. 

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you. 

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture. 

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips. 

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” 

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair. 

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made. 

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair. 

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor. 

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand. 

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison. 

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help. 

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages. 

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look. 

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you. 

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own. 

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same. 

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis. 

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk. 

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague. 

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat. 

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

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The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes. 

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on. 

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose. 

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors. 

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Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer. 

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

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For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak. 

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions. 

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.” 

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure. 

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room. 

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve. 

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!” 

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.” 

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.” 

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you. 

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued. 

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face. 

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand. 

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”  

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.” 

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him. 

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.” 

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!” 

He really was too good for this world. 

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a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

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