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hanjisungslag · 7 months ago

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attack on titan headcanons #10

synopsis: how the characters react when you, their s/o, gets hurt. 🩹

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, connie, sasha, reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin and hange

notes: i am cooking up a storm, so watch out for that & also hit double digits!!

☆ eren jaeger

bro is INFURIATED

“WHO DID IT HUH?! ILL KILL THEM WITH MY BARE HANDS-”

oh.. you got injured in training? poor babyyy☹️

he’s super sweet and gentle with you.

if anyone tries to go near you though.. he’s super scared they’re gonna accidentally hurt you😭.

so he’s always at the edge of his seat ready to rescue you if needs be.

he gets all of your food, water, clothes, bandages etc.

then the nurses catch him doing it and have to YANK him off of you, once again.

☆ mikasa ackerman

so incredibly caring and concerned 🤍

she was the one who found you on the expedition with a broken leg

she refuses you to the hospital

lets the nurses do their jobs (thank god)

she really wants to be able to help nurse you back to health as well though..

she gives you the next best thing aka massages.

she literally comes in everyday and gives you 3 massages minimum a day

she’ll also sleep in the hospital with you most days.

☆ armin arlert

nothing less than an angel.

for however long you’re in the hospital, he’ll bring you flowers

in there for 3 weeks? new flowers every week.

in there for a week? new flowers every other day.

reads you books every night to help you sleep

sleeps there EVERY single night

always gives good morning and good night kisses

keeps you updated with what’s going on with everyone and training to make sure you don’t miss out.

makes sure to surprise you by bringing your friends there too!! it was a super sweet surprise.

when you’re sleeping, he goes around asking nurses if they need help😖.

☆ jean kirstein

UGH TERRIFIED FOR YOUUU

he has to hype himself up before going to see you in hospital because it just breaks his heart.

but being able to see you, hug you, know that you’re being taken care of makes him feel wayy better.

he’s just happy to see that you’re not too badly injured.

just a sprain from training!

he likes to draw things for you from the outside

or you guys draw together.

yk that cute game where one person draws a squiggle and the other person has to make into a drawing?

yeah, you guys do that. and it’s frickin adorbs😡

☆ connie springer

you went to do some late night training by yourself

and cornelius found you on the ground. in a lot of pain.

he rushed you to the first aid

fastest anyone has EVER seen that man run

you got cleaned up but had to take a break from training until you were better.

definitely tries to make you laugh all the time

even with your injury, he still wants to see you happy and smiling 🤍

☆ sasha braus

aw bless her cotton socks.

your injury wasn’t fatal enough to warrant a hospital stay

but the nurses said to stay home and rest up!

you had to take care of your scar

in her own time, sasha headed over to first aid to ask the nurses how to help you properly☹️.

you literally do not lift a finger!!

she does everything for you, like cleaning it up, wrapping it up etc.

and she’s really good at it and all…

☆ reiner braun

he’s like a scared little boy.

he’ll sit by your side and tell you it’s all okay

but when he’s alone.. HE GETS SO UPSET

sometimes he’ll take ‘bathroom breaks’ just to pull himself together because he hates seeing you in this state :(.

really affects his everyday life

but he hides it well.

BIGG celebrations as soon as you’re out of hospital

is literally like a servant, will get you everything and anything you want.

☆ bertolt hoover

GAH SO ANXIOUS!!

he bakes you cookies for being so brave☹️.

he stays with you all day long until the nurse finally tells him he has to go.

it breaks his heart leaving you but he gets up bright and bloody early to see you in the morning

like i’m talking the second the hospital opens up.

☆ annie leonhart

she’s not nervous,

your injury wasn’t fatal or anything.

she’ll still visit you, of course ;)

she also makes sure to tell you how brave you are

since you are scared of hospitals.

she’ll giggle at your wimpy-ness though.

like you were getting patched up and you were just like trying not to scream

and she was just standing there chuckling at you.

☆ levi ackerman

so so so scared, secretly.

he has lost one too many people

but to lose you? that would completely and utterly BREAK him.

it was a pretty gnarly injury as well…

which was rather terrifying for both you and him

but he’ll keep a cool persona around you.

if he’s unable to visit due to work, he’ll ring the hospital and asks how you are.

he’ll always make time to come see you though, no matter what!!

☆ erwin smith

he hears from his assistant that you’ve been put into hospital

he runs STRAIGHT over and makes sure to comfort you.

he’ll stay till dark when you’re asleep and pay the nurses a visit too

he asks them to take extra good care of you.

if he’s unable to see you, he makes sure to call you up every single day

or at least have SOMEONE come check on you.

☆ hange zoë

GAH!! FREAKS OUT!

hange has seen it all at this rate

but doesn’t seem to heavily affected.

they’ve never really had anyone close to them be extremely injured

they were sooo scared though :(.

it was really sad for everyone to see hange’s energy so low but

they couldn’t help it!!

all they could think about was their poor love in hospital :(.

when they’re around you though, they try to stay positive! and tells you all about their work to keep you both distracted.

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fallenneziah · 1 year ago

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Omggg I NEED a part 5 of omega!reader and alpha!ghost!!! You left me on a cliff hanger, like is it a boy or a girl!!?!?!?!?

Eh heh, @jax-simp I did that on purpose 🤪 gonna give you two a tiny cute little Riley 😭 literally I thank you guys for coming to support my writing and taking such an interest in this. And hey, if you want, I might try and commit to an entire proper fic for you guys?? This is just about to be super wholesome.

Alpha!Ghost and Omega!Reader pt 5

Pt 1, 2, 3, 4

Omega!Reader who purrs loudly to themself in the car to try and calm down. Feeling like you're going to pop any minute. Ghost beside you who takes your hand, purring alongside you.

Alpha!Ghost who tries to talk you through with affirmation the whole time until you get to the hospital. Bringing you to the emergency room for your pregnancy.

Alpha!Ghost whose protective of you still that he growls and snaps at any of the nurses that try to touch you, especially if their male or another alpha.

Usually when an Omega is giving birth, only Omega nurses and hospital staff will be present so that calmed his fiery nerves a bit.

Alpha!Ghost who stays by your side, making sure that you're ok as they set you up.

Omega!Reader who's in pain and whimpering, grabbing onto Ghost for stability, twisting their hand in his shirt and digging their nails into his scarred hands.

Omega!Reader whose seemingly only calmed a little by Ghost's scent filling the room to cloud your senses and try to soothe you gently.

Omega!Reader who grips the medical bed and snarls at the next nurse that tries to usher Ghost away.

Scents mingling as you moan and whine, breathing heavy in desperation.

Alpha!Ghost who leans in your ear, whispering to you how good you're doing and you'll be a wonderful parent.

"It's ok baby... It's gonna be worth it. Easy, deep breaths... Amazing, you're doing amazing love."

Omega!Reader whose so thrilled, hanging on as they go through the procedures. Barely remembering any of it. It's all a blur. Hanging on to Ghost's hand, purring loudly to try and calm yourself.

Ghost is there, trying to make sure you're ok through the whole procedure. His heart racing to meet his newborn baby.

And then you hear it.

The baby's first cries.

Omega!reader whose completely at ease, purring and coming back into full awareness.

Alpha!Ghost who bristles up in protectiveness when the child is swaddled in blankets and brought to your chest. Soft, fresh clean skin or a wailing baby who is calmed when brought to their carrier.

Omega!Reader whose so gentle, cradling the baby as it feeds, feeling so much love and fulfillment from this new life that they've helped bring to the world.

Alpha!Ghost who watches you hold the child, being pronounced as a boy. His heart settling, watching all the people around the room, shoulders arching back to protect you. His entire weight leaning toward the medical bed to be a shadow for his little boy and his mate.

Omega!Reader who leans toward him, Ghost kissing your forehead, telling you how amazing you did.

"He's beautiful love... You did so good."

Alpha!Ghost who eventually gets skin to skin contact, and he's never felt so amazing. Holding this small child in his arms, feeling him lean and sink into the warm skin of his father.

Alpha!Ghost who gently holds your child, staring up through his eyebrows at anyone who even makes a move or breathes the wrong way. This child means so much to him.

Gently feeling his fuzzy head. Cooing and hicking softly against his chest.

Alpha!Ghost who purrs from deep in his chest to his little one, knowing he'll wait to scent him till his skin is less sensitive.

Omega!Reader who feels tired, but feels so loved and happy watching Ghost accept his child and get so protective over him. And seeing the baby curl right up to him as it's the safest place he could be.

Warm in dad's arms.

Omega!Reader who stays at the hospital with the baby, Ghost wanting to stay as well. That natural draw to protect you and his newborn so strong he fights the hospital workers. But after kissing you goodbye and giving his child a gentle kiss, he departs.

Alpha!Ghost who worries sick for you and his little one every moment he's not around you. Who goes back to the hospital as soon as he can every day to hold the newborn and kiss you.

Alpha!Ghost who is a father now. Protecting you and this kiddo. Whose more protective than ever. Who insists on carrying the carrier when you leave the hospital, you on his other arm.

Your baby needs a lot from both of you.

Omega!Reader having that instinct for the more domestic tasks, feeding him, spending the long nights up, their routine shifting almost naturally into caretaker mode.

Alpha!Ghost who is there to play and help strengthen your little one. But who also steps into the caretaker role with almost as much fluidity as you.

Alpha!Ghost who when your son starts to wail in the middle of the night, kissing your temple, whispering, "I've got it, love. You rest."

Alpha!Ghost who will pick up your son, holding him in his arms and gently rocking him. Who will purr to him, taking care of whatever need has him startled awake.

"Shh, shh, you're ok..." He whispers, finding some milk in the fridge and heating it up just enough, feeding the bottle to your son. "Easy, easy now..." He smiles softly when your son latches on.

"There we go... See? Dad's here, dad is here it's ok."

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't mind losing the sleep so his omega can rest. Sitting up most of the night with your son, even rubbing his scent glands against his small cheek gently, the scent of his father calming him in a soft slumber.

Omega!Reader who misses their alpha in post childbirth and heads down to the living room to see him snuggled up with your son.

Omega!Reader who curls up under Ghost's arm, leaning into his side, smelling his scent and the warmth of his body. Wrapping an arm around the two, getting comfortable.

Alpha!Ghost who even in his sleep pulls you closer, feeling the body's of two very, very special people in his life.

The two of you getting time off so you can be with your child.

Omega!Reader setting up a proper, much, much better nest for the three of you to get cozy in.

Alpha!Ghost who crawls in, your son curled up in his one arm, letting you snuggle up, head buried in his neck. Blankets wrapped around you, making sure you're both comfy.

Alpha!Ghost who stalks behind you when you go grocery shopping. Your son giggling or napping in his seat in the cart.

Omega!Reader happily going about shopping while Ghost eyes up everyone in the store. A woman attempt to come over before swerving away from the look he's giving.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't care who or where, but he protects you with everything he has.

Alpha!Ghost who wears that baby holder thing with your son on his chest napping or looking around the world. His scent close and his body warm.

Alpha!Ghost who is at ease with his son so close like this. He knows you will and do take amazing care of his son. But the protective aspect of him isn't easy when it also brings him a sense of worry.

Alpha!Ghost whose worries are only calmed by you two, wrapping his arms around you after a nightmare, smelling your scent. Waking up in a cold sweat hearing your baby wailing. Rushing across the hall only to see you already rocking him.

"He's ok love, I've got him." You reply softly with a little smile.

Ghost who exhales softly, coming over and hugging you from behind, wrapping his arms around you and cupping the back of his son's head as he settles.

"Wasn't worried..." He mutters into your hair.

"I know you were." You chuckle softly.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't know what he'd do without his little family. But when he has to leave again, he gets a bunch of new things for his son. Toys that hopefully he'll be able to understand and start to play with as he grows. Scenting every single one so each one smells safe like dad.

Omega!Reader who wanted to have this family with Ghost knowing that they will stay home when Ghost goes off to serve.

Omega!Reader who finds it really hard to drive through without Ghost. The stress getting to them a lot. And yet they keep going.

Omega!Reader who lays down to bed at night, snuggling up to Ghost's side to smell his pillow, the lingering scent helping to sleep.

Alpha!Ghost who keeps a photo of you and his son in his jacket to look at whenever he misses you. And calls you whenever he can.

Omega!Reader who gives your son one of Ghost's shirts to sleep with in his crib, afraid without it he'll forget his father's scent.

Omega!reader who calls Ghost when your son begins to walk, crying about how happy you are, Ghost feeling his own tears as he tells you how he wished he saw it.

"I'll be home soon love. I promise, I will."

Omega!Reader who hears he's coming back and waits by the door all day.

When the door opens you nearly burst into tears then and there, wrapping your arms around him. Nuzzling up to him, smelling him, feeling him. Missing him so much.

Alpha!Ghost who rubs his cheek all over you first thing, re-scenting you as soon as he's home because he misses you so much.

Alpha!Ghost who kisses away your tears and holds you close to him.

Omega!Reader who was worried your son wouldn't remember him, until he's crawling over from where he was on his playmate. Cooing and trying to wiggle up to his feet.

Omega!Reader who rushes to help, but your son is smiling his big gummy smile, already waddling over to him.

Alpha!Ghost who bursts into tears, picking up his little one and kissing him all over, scenting him and hugging him. Oh how he missed him. Hugging both of you in his arms tightly.

"I missed you both so much." He whispers, kissing your heads. "I missed you."

"We missed you too." You respond, buried in his side. His son centered on his chest, little hands clinging to him like iron.

Alpha!Ghost who holds your child for the rest of the afternoon because he doesn't want to be put down. Although tired he holds him and rocks him until his eyes are heavy toward the evening and he sleeps.

Alpha!Ghost who lays him down for bed, kissing you tiredly and inviting you for a shower so he can hold you. Tired and feeling your skin pressed against his under the warm water. Kissing your neck and shoulders.

"I missed you." He whispers again.

You wrap your arms around him. "I missed you too, Simon."

Alpha!Ghost who is so proud of you for being strong without him. Taking care of your son and raising him while he wasn't there for a bit.

Alpha!Ghost who carries you off to bed, snuggling back up in his nest, missing it. Smelling more of you. He brings you close, holding you tightly, and relaxes. Finally home, with his family. Where he knows he belongs...

#i wanted to put more but it kind of spilled out weirdly #anywho #you have a son now #so congrats #simon ghost riley #cod smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #alpha!simon riley #alpha simon riley #alpha!ghost #omega!reader #omega reader #omegaverse

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piningintrovert · 3 months ago

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Timelines, Jewelry, and Sex? Oh My!

Despite all efforts to keep myself from constantly overanalyzing love scenes on this site, here I am once again. And this time I've brought three (3) of them!

It was honestly inevitable because in a series like this where sex quite literally drives the plot, these scenes are necessary to understanding the story and characters, and in turn must be discussed. That said, walk with me lovelies. We have a lot to cover. Theories and takeaways are in blue, and questions and discourse are welcome.

Great and Tyme's love scene was so beautiful and truly a joy to witness which is why it pains me to say that it was not real. At this point, we can all agree that there are multiple timelines in play. That's why I think their love scene and the moments that lead up to it were what Great wishes their relationship was like if he had made all the right choices and met Tyme under different circumstances.

I think their relationship started with a one-night stand possibly initiated by Tyme to get closer to Great and his family.

Now before I attempt to provide evidence to support my thesis, I need to point out one thing about the timelines—they are parallel. Great's first 4-minute out of body experience establishes that point.

Sure, going back in time allows him to make a different, often better choice, but the timeline in which he made his initial choice continues.

That is why we see him wake from the "nightmare" of seeing Manee lying dead on the ground after he hits her and drives off. That timeline is still in motion and part of him has experienced and is still experiencing it.

The notion of parallel timelines is further supported by the final scene in episode 4 where we see two timelines seemingly collide as Dome returns home in one and is dead in another.

I highly recommend reading this post by @becauseimanicequeen which has an extraordinary breakdown of possible timelines and the differences between them.

Taking what we've seen so far into account, my theory is that each 4-minute jump creates a new timeline or a new branch in an existing timeline that later merges back into it's parent timeline while all events and memories remain intact. Lukwa provides a bit of insight on this during her interview with Dr. Den:

What I plan to discuss in this post is based on the premise that there at least 4 timelines in play for Great-Tyme's part of the story:

Great hits Manee and drives off → has his first 4-minute jump (4MJ) → a new timeline is created; this one continues with memories intact → ?

Great hits Manee, stays, and calls for help → visits her at the hospital and delivers flowers to her room where they talk for a bit → bumps into Tyme and tries to leave, but ends up having a 4MJ → a new timeline is created; this one continues w/ memories intact → ?

Great leaves the flowers he brought for Manee at the nurse's station → first instance of seeing visions of he and Tyme having sex on 2 different occasions → bumps into Tyme, says sorry, and helps him pick up the papers → Title kills Dome and Great has a 4MJ → a new timeline is created; this one continues w/ memories intact → (this is where Tonkla and Win would come in, but they're not my focus atm) → ?

Great saves Dome and takes him to the hospital → Tyme sutures his wound; Great recalls visions of him riding Tyme → Tyme saves him from being choked out/killed by Title in the garage → Tyme brings Great his favorite iced tea and is rejected when he asks Great out → Great has a 4MJ, explains what's been going on to Tyme and asks him out → claw machine date at the mall and almost kiss in the car (interspersed with another round of visions of his other self and Tyme from T2 sleeping together; I'll explain later) → Tyme attacks Korn looking for answers about Nan's whereabouts → Great confronts Tyme at the hospital → has a second 4MJ and promises to help find Nan → Great finds Nan, but hesitates and fails to save her → has a third 4MJ, manages to save Nan, and escapes with Tyme's help → they quickly drop Nan off at the hospital and skip town → sleep together

Since Great has had three 4MJs in T4 (the current timeline), it is plausible that 3 additional timelines may have been created but I don't think that's the case because (1) four is a thematic number in the series and (2) T4 is the timeline that offers the most continuity in sequence of events.

It's also interesting to note that Great's 4MJs have become more frequent and life-threatening which could mean that he's on the right track and/or nearing the end.

That aside, the timeline I want to focus on is T2, which is where I think one of their sexual encounters takes place. Let's take a look at the timeline as if Great's 4MJ does not occur:

Great hits Manee, stays with her, and calls for help

Great visits Manee at the hospital and delivers flowers to her room where they talk for a bit

Great, unnerved by his conversation with Manee, bumps into Tyme and leaves

Great meets Tyme at a bar and they end up having a one-night stand

This scene was the sole catalyst for this post because Great seems to be wearing the same outfit he had on when he visited Manee at the hospital—jewelry and all.

Our rich boy may like wearing black and white, but he is not one for repeating outfits.

While chatting at the bar, they're conversation indicates that they remember bumping into each other at the hospital. However, unlike in T3 and T4, they don't seem to know each other beyond that. It's possible that Tyme may have some info on Great because he is investigating his family, but they're essentially strangers both to us and each other. This Dr. Tyme (T2) is not the rizz-less one we know and love from T4 because he manages to charm his way into spending the night with Great (this is speculation; Great very well could have done the charming and Tyme got lucky). How do we know this? Great's visions from the first time he bumped into Tyme at the hospital (T3) and the almost-kiss in the car (T4) show us what happens next.

Great-Tyme are seen holding hands as they enter Great's condo. I will admit that this is quite familiar behavior for people who've essentially just met, but holding hands with your one-night stand is entirely possible. That aside, if you look closely you'll notice that Tyme is wearing a silver paperclip bracelet and Great is wearing his favored watch.

These are the same pieces of jewelry that they're wearing when Tyme kisses Great's chest on the pool table ... which is insane choice of a flat surface to start a romp on when the bed is literally a few feet away, but I get it. Where else would one serve a full-course meal if not on a table?

Anyway~ Tyme is also wearing a necklace which will be of note in a sec, but what I find interesting is the stark difference in this Tyme's gaze and demeanor in comparison to the one in episode 4. He appears to be more confident and decisive.

A man on a mission and who knows exactly what he's doing. That said, if we ever get the entirety of this scene, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't kiss Great on the lips because there seems to be an emotional distance between them that is not present in the love scene we saw in episode 4.

Now back to Tyme's necklace. He appears to be wearing it in another scene from the trailer where he's standing next to Great's window so it's safe to assume that it's the same day.

I can't decide whether his gaze is menacing or not, but he is holding a rag and something black and shiny that looks like a switchblade a phone so we'll just have to wait and see.

So far we've looked at 2 of the 3 Great-Tyme love scenes shown in the trailer. The third, which also takes place in Great's condo, is one that also gives me pause because once again, Tyme's gaze is different.

Something about the way he looks at Great does not read as the Tyme we've been seeing over the last 4 episodes.

But what's most notable to me in this love scene is that neither of them is wearing any jewelry. Great doesn't wear jewelry at home, so not having any jewelry on in this scene isn't out of the ordinary. Tyme on the other hand, is NEVER without his smartwatch. And as I'm writing this, I've realized that we've never seen any indication of what time it is when Tyme is alone. The only instance we've seen a clock in direct relation to Tyme is on his phone when he exchanged numbers with Great at the skatepark.

So, is any of what we've seen so far real?

Yes and no. The only thing that has been real and consistent throughout Great-Tyme's storyline is the certainty of death; impending or otherwise. And because of that, neither Great's nor Tyme's perspectives are reliable.

It may feel like we are getting the full picture, but there is always something missing in between.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. Now off to episode 5 to see how wrong I am XD

#4 minutes #4 minutes the series #greattyme #great x tyme #bible wichapas #jes jespipat #4minutes #not yet but he will #love at first vision #s:4m #t:meta #userspicy #userbon #rinblr #user25shades #userlinnea #tuserfaiza

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stevieschrodinger · 2 years ago

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Eddie goes zero to sixty when he wakes up. He expects to be dead, so the strong smell of disinfectant and boiled hospital food comes as a shock that, at first, he doesn’t believe.

But then the irregular bleating of the heart monitor next to him starts to sink in, the beeps sounding way too fucking fast and that stresses Eddie out even more. He tries to escape out of the bed, gets tangled in tubes and wires, agony burning up his side and through his stomach, practically falls out of the bed when his own legs won’t hold him.

The floor is rock solid and stone cold, and that just ratchets Eddie’s panic further, because now he’s stuck and he can’t escape and there are people – people he doesn't know – touching him, all talking all over each other and it’s so much, too much to handle, the overload -

“Holy shit kid,” a voice Eddie would recognize anywhere, mostly because he’s been warned by that voice so many times about getting caught dealing and carrying and, “Jesus, give him some room a second.”

“I thought you were dead,” Eddie rasps out, voice totally fucked.

“Yeah, well, thought the same about you kid,” Hopper answers, stoic and honest as always.

“I can’t stay here,” Eddie finds his hands twisted up in the material of Hoppers jacket.

Hopper nods, knowingly, “back into bed, give me half an hour.”

Eddie agrees, holds onto that, because the lights are too bright and the noises are all so fucking loud and even the sound of his own breathing is annoying.

“Kid,” Hopper raps on the door frame, and every fucking pair of eyes in the room swivels to him because literally everyone rammed into Max’s room is a kid to Hopper. He narrows it down a bit, looking at Steve, “Munson’s awake.”

Half the people in the room shoot up, Dustin’s fastest despite his fucked up ankle, so Hopper sticks an arm out, wraps him up, stops him even though the kid is screeching and wriggling in his hold, “just Steve, the rest of you stay here.”

There’s a roomful of complaints, but something in Hoppers tone must relay the urgency, because they do obey in the end.

“So, he needs somewhere to go.”

Hopper nods down at Steve, “Owen’s can wrangle it, but it’s got to be somewhere known, somewhere that has the space, somewhere...private.”

Steve gets what Hopper’s laying down, his place is the only place that makes any sense, “yeah, of course.”

Because there’s no question.

Eddie limps across the threshold, most of his weight supported on Steve’s shoulders. They take one look at the mountain of stairs and divert straight to the couch. Steve can see that Eddie’s in pain, that he’s restless, that he can’t settle, “what can I do?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Feel like there’s...fire ants or something, crawling all over, under my skin.”

Steve tuts. Not having a suggestion for that. Eddie’s face contorts again and he’s sweating. The nurse was very fucking clear about the pain meds, and Eddie can’t have any more for another couple of hours at the earliest. Steve doesn’t state that out loud; he’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t need reminding.

He comes back with a cool sodden towel, feeling helpless, but the second it hits Eddie’s skin Eddie practically screeches and they know that isn’t the answer, so Steve throws it in the laundry.

“I don’t know what to say man, shower? Like, a hot one?”

“Dressings,” Eddie bites back, white knuckled and almost writhing now on the couch.

“Maybe...we should take you back, maybe they can-”

“No. Fuck no,” Eddie’s words bitten out, panicked.

“Okay okay,” Steve surrenders, palms up flat, “what then?”

Eddie’s eyes flick over the back of the couch, he can’t see the stairs from there, there’s a wall in the way, but his expression looks pained just at the thought, “I’ll try anything once.” He tries to make a joke of it, tries to make out that he’s okay, but he’s clearly in fucking agony and Steve has no idea what to do for him so he agrees readily.

Making it up the stairs takes them fully half an hour, Eddie having to wait, panting, on every single step. Steve’s never felt so helpless in his life (excluding that one time Max floated in the cemetery), it’s torture watching Eddie suffer, watching him try and keep in all the pained noises, only to fail miserably.

He manages a half hearted joke about King Steve giving him a sponge bath when they make it to the turn near the top, the wider step on the corner giving Eddie somewhere safe and secure to lean.

Steve doesn’t laugh, “how are you feeling now?”

Eddie swallows, throat clicking dry, “it’s worse. It’s like there’s...like something's under there, moving around,” Eddie draws in a hissed breath, face crumpling, “hurts. So fucking much.”

Steve doesn’t even know what to say to that, so they get moving, and those final four steps are worse than all the others combined. They shuffle through Steve’s bedroom and into the bathroom, and when Steve clicks on the light Eddie makes an agonized noise and Steve clicks it off again immediately.

“S’bright,” Eddie mutters, squinting at the floor, greasy, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. He looks ill. Washed out. No, gray. He looks like he’s gone gray in the dim light coming through the small bathroom window.

“Okay, okay, no problem,” so Steve turns to get the water going, trying to figure out how the fuck they’re going to do this considering Eddie looks exhausted and half dead already. He hears Eddie make a noise, there's a soft thump, and Steve turns back, concerned.

Eddie’s gone.

He’s just...gone.

His clothes are in a heap on the floor, bloody dressings mixed in, and Steve yells, hopping backward and nearly dragging down the shower curtain, when the pile shifts. Wings emerge. Tails.

Steve recognizes it instantly. It’s a fucking demobat.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck,” Steve backs away, edges his way through the door, thinking of the nail bat in the boot of his car. He usually brings it everywhere with him, when he can, but he was too concerned with getting Eddie into the house to think of it.

He doesn’t take his eyes off the thing as it flops around, trapped in Eddie’s clothes. Steve darts the rest of the way, scouring his room for a weapon and giving up fast; the kitchen, a knife; that would be easiest.

Steve runs for it, closing his bedroom door tight so the thing can’t escape. He runs down the stairs, grabs the biggest knife in the block and then takes the stairs two at a time on the way back up.

Steve opens his bedroom door cautiously, point of the knife sliding through the gap, just in case the thing is flapping around in his bedroom. It’s not, it appears safe.

But Steve knows the danger, he was nearly killed by just one of those things so he isn’t taking any chances. Steve waits a second with the door open...he realizes he can hear it. It’s not making the horrible high pitched screech that he’s used to, it sounds more like...well, it sounds like a whimper. It actually sounds kind of pathetic.

Steve creeps closer, only to find the demobat hopelessly tangled in Eddie’s clothes, it’s struggling only making it worse. Steve stands for a moment, staring. Eddie’s gone...and now that little creature is in Eddie’s clothes.

Eddie. Shit, Steve has a terrible feeling about this, “Eddie?”

Steve creeps a little closer, still pointing with the knife, “Eddie, man, if that’s you, you’ve got to give me something here,” Steve begs desperately. There’s still no response, “oh fuck me, I’m loosing my godamn mind.”

Steve kneels, moving a little closer, “Eddie?”

The Demobat’s strange, worm like head appears from under Eddie’s shirt and sort of...mewls. It’s pathetic, really. The open, rounded mouth in filled with rows of tiny, razor sharp teeth. It’s got four eyes, two above the mouth, and two more set behind that, and they all blink in turn, strange slits opening and closing slowly.

It makes another little noise. “Okay. Okay, lets, try...oh man I am so dumb. Dustin’s never going to let me live this down,” Steve slowly offers the back of his hand to the thing, reasoning that if it bites him, the wound won’t be too debilitating than if he looses a finger or something equally terrible. He waits, watching, poised to drag his hand back at the first sign of danger. He doesn’t need too though, because the demobat potentially formerly known as Eddie, snakes out a too long, thin black tongue, and licks a sticky smear on the back of Steve’s hand.

And that’s all. It sits still, staring up at Steve will all four of it’s beady black eyes, watching expectantly.

“Okay. Okay. I’m going to trust you. But if you bite me I swear to…” Steve mutters to himself as he carefully untangles the bat from the pile of clothing, it’s tails and wings well and truly wrapped up with the material.

It’s not awful. It feels kind of cold, but the skin isn’t like, moist, or anything, it’s very dry and kind of scaly. The wings are more leathery, and the tail is...well, it kind of feels weirdly hollow.

“Okay, I got you Munson. God that’s so weird,” Eddie’s body snakes up Steve’s arm a little way, wings flapping clumsily as he tries to right himself. Steve has to fight his instinct to throw the thing off, the last time a demobat was this close to him it nearly strangled him to death.

Despite climbing all over Steve, Eddie wraps his tail around his arms and chest...but not his neck. Not even close. Kind of like, even in this form, he knows.

Eddie ends up hooking the ‘elbows’ of his wings into Steve’s shirt and just...huddling there. Not doing anything, tail wrapped firmly around Steve’s arm, one wing against Steve’s chest and the other against his back, hugging Steve’s shoulder.

Steve stares at himself, and Eddie, in the mirror, “well, fuck.”

With no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do now, Steve heads to bed. It’s been a bit of a day, and whatever the hell this is can wait until tomorrow. He crawls into bed, carefully lying down. Eddie seems to get it, movements still slow and very clumsy, he shifts completely onto Steve’s chest, sort of walking on the joints of his wings, curling up.

Steve lies there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, “I guess this is...maybe not the weirdest thing to happen?”

Eddie makes a soft trilling noise.

Fuck.

Steve wakes up slowly, very aware of the warm weight on top of him. He blinks, vision filled with a mop of brown curls. Eddie.

Steve is hugging Eddie. Eddie is mostly on top of him. Eddie is very naked under Steve’s hands and his very obvious erection is digging into Steve’s thigh and, “Eddie, you’re people again!”

Eddie lifts his head, squinting, opens his mouth and says, “mrrrrp?”

It’s eerily reminiscent of the noise he’d made last night, as a demobat.

“You’re a dude again, dude.”

Eddie blinks. It seems to take a long time to process before he finally, finally croaks out, “coffee.”

Steve wholeheartedly agrees.

Steve slips out of bed, Eddie either isn’t acknowledging or hasn't noticed his boner situation, so Steve figures there's some sort of bro code here and just ignores it too.

While coffee is brewing, Steve figures his only possible course of action is to call the smartest person he knows. He will never admit that out loud, but luckily Henderson answers on the second ring, like he’s been waiting for Steve to call him.

“Dustin-”

“Can I come see Eddie yet?”

Steve sighs, “I’m great, thanks for asking, so cool of-”

“Steve.”

“Yeah. Yes, come over.”

The little shit doesn’t even say goodbye. He just hangs up.

Steve takes a coffee up to Eddie, who is buck naked and sprawled ass up over Steve’s bed, “okay, Eddie come on, Dustin’s on the way.”

Eddie groans, crawling out of bed, Steve heads over to his wardrobe to dig out something for Eddie to wear so he isn’t obviously staring at all of Eddie’s nakedness. There’s a thump and a, “shit,” that has Steve spinning back around, Eddie sat on his ass on the floor, looking confused.

“You okay?”

“Legs. Apparently you can forget legs really fast.”

It hadn’t occurred to Steve when he woke up, but it does now. All of Eddie is pristine; there’s not a wound, mark, scar bruise, anything on him anywhere. Steve has to step closer, kneeling in front of Eddie to prod his chest, Eddie swats at him, “you’re all healed up.”

Eddie stops swatting at Steve and prods himself instead, “holy shit. I am.”

“Well...that’s a positive, right?”

Eddie hums, and Steve goes back to digging him out a sweater and some sleep pants and boxers. That’ll do for today. Eddie’s a little wobbly when he stands, so Steve hovers in grabbing distance, but Eddie gets dressed without incident.

Steve offers him the coffee from the nightstand, now cool enough to drink. Eddie takes an enthusiastic mouthful and Steve watches as Eddie’s face goes through a series of...something, his mouth obviously full of coffee. His face is definitely doing something. And then Eddie just opens his mouth, “bleaugh,” letting the coffee just...run back into the mug.

And then he hands it back. To Steve. Who takes it reflexively, “I’ll just...I’ll go and get rid of this.”

“Where is he?”

“Okay, okay, firstly, I need you to not freak out.”

“Steve,” Dustin stares at him, “saying that is guaranteed to make anyone freak out.”

“Yep,” Steve agrees, “I mean it though, Eddie is absolutely fine, I swear it.”

“But. There’s a but isn’t there, Steve why is there always a but with-”

“He turned into a demobat last night. Like just, was a bat. And I didn’t know what to do, so we went to sleep, and then this morning he was Eddie again.”

Dustin’s face is a process, before he finally settles on, “are you sure?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “yes, yes, I’m sure. He was Eddie, then bat, the Eddie again. It wasn't complicated, just fucking weird.”

“Right...so where is he?”

Steve opens his bedroom door to find...absolute carnage. His bed has moved, the mattress is off the frame, there’s blankets and pillows strewn everywhere, feathers swirling in the air.

“Eddie?”

Eddie pops up on the other side of the bed, shirtless and frantic looking, “I didn’t, I didn’t do anything, it just, it just...it just exploded.”

Steve stares, the feathers settling. Eddie’s actually naked again and appears to be building some sort of fort on the floor of Steve’s bedroom, Steve blinks, “the pillow doesn’t matter Eddie.”

Eddie nods decisively, “good.” Then, after a moments thought, “do you have more?” And then he’s back on his hands and knees rearranging his fort, like a feral racoon or something.

“Dustin’s here, do you want to maybe come and talk to him?”

“It’s the scientific method Steve!”

“We are not throwing anyone off a roof, anywhere, any time, ever.”

They both turn back to Eddie, watching as he eats another spoon of raspberry jelly straight out of the jar.

“You got any ketchup?” Dustin asks, going back to food again.

“That won’t prove either theory, ketchup is red and sweet.”

Dustin turns to him, “Steve, that is possibly the most intelligent thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Steve’s ready to slap the little shit at this point, but Dustin’s face is earnest. Apparently Dustin actually means what he just said. Like, sincerely.

So Steve lets it go, and Dustin suggests, “we need something sweet but not red, and something red but not sweet.”

“We should go to the store,” Steve adds, then stares at Eddie for a minute longer; he’s basically fucking the neck of the jar with his tongue, “I’ll call Nancy to go to the store for us,” Steve adjusts.

Dustin nods, turning the page of his notebook.

Nancy drops grocery bags on the counter while Robin hops up next to her, “so, I thought we could make red jello and add a bunch of salt or something, I got some soup for him to try, some more jelly just in case, and some more ketchup since you said he really likes that. Two tubs of salsa…”

Steve rummages in the bag next to her, when Eddie pops up next to him, Steve hadn’t even heard him come into the kitchen. Eddie wedges himself right in there, pushing Steve back with a hand and then...hisses. Hisses at Nancy. Like, makes a hissing noise and bears his teeth. Steve just moves, lets Eddie push him back, while Nancy watches, wide eyes and surprised.

She takes a few Steps back herself, closer to Robin, and tries a tentative, “Eddie?”

He just hisses again, before snapping, “mine!” at her.

And then he disappears, there’s a light thump on the kitchen floor. Everyone watches as bat Eddie extricates himself from his clothes, movements much better this time around. He half climbs and half flaps his way up Steve’s body, until he gets to around waist height and Steve grabs at the thickest part of Eddie’s body to help him out. Eddie climbs the rest of the way, draping himself around the back of Steve’s neck, tail wrapped under one armpit, Eddie standing on his wing joints on the opposite shoulder. He hisses at Nancy again.

“Holy shit,” Nancy says.

Dustin is frantically scribbling in his notebook.

Robin, once she’d got over the shock of Eddie’s transformation, laughed and laughed and laughed. Even Nancy was smirking at them. The way Steve was absently stroking over Eddie to keep him mollified, and that Nancy couldn’t come within ten feet of them without Eddie getting all riled up again.

“So, you and Eddie huh.”

Steve just rolls his eyes.

“He’s feeling plenty threatened by Nance,” Dustin adds, really, really, unhelpfully.

“Probably because they were a thing,” Robin speculates.

“So you and Eddie are like, dating?” Dustin asks, and whatever Steve’s face does makes Robin laugh and laugh and laugh again.

Eddie actually manages a graceful glide off Steve’s shoulder and onto the nest/fort/thing Eddie had constructed earlier. Steve was going to try and tidy it before bed...but from the way Eddie is wing walking across it, pathetically dragging the edge of a pillow in his tiny mouth, Steve guesses that he’s not.

It’s also been a bit of a day, and he can’t really be bothered.

He climbs into bed, Eddie flapping out of the way and then climbing his way carefully up onto Steve’s chest.

This is my life now, Steve thinks, as he stares at the ceiling.

And then gets winded, when the very small demobat lying on his chest is suddenly a full sized man again. Eddie nearly headbutts Steve in the chin and Steve rolls over to dump him off, panicked and with the breath knocked out of him. Eddie makes a pathetic and somehow accusatory trilling noise, like this turn of events is all Steve’s fault, before he rolls over and flops over Steve again.

Apparently, cuddling is a thing they do.

Eddie makes a noise like a purr when Steve rubs his hand up and down the naked skin of Eddie’s back.

So, yeah, this is Steve’s life now.

There is more of this series on AO3 - Stevieschrodinger

#stranger things #eddie munson #creature eddie munson #magic eddie munson #steve harrington #long suffering steve harrington #steve and dustin #dustin henderson #hopper to the rescue #bat eddie munson #steddie #steddie headcanon #stranger things headers #nancy and robin

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sweetcreaturetm · 2 years ago

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I wish there was more nurse Steve.

Like Steve in nursing school doing clinicals and he does a round in the ED. And his first shift he gets this weirdo who has to have one of his rings cut off his finger cause he bet his buddy that his rings wouldn’t bend under the wheels of his van. He’s honestly lucky none of his bones are broken. Steve’s kind of just in the background since he’s just doing clinicals but the guy keeps looking at him for comfort while the doctors are setting up all the stuff to cut the ring. Steve can tell he’s a little scared so he goes to stand on his other side to distract him.

“So- uhhh” Steve checks the chart “Mr. Munson do you usually go around running over various body parts?”

Eddie smiles widely at him “it’s Eddie, and no. But uh” he shares a sneaky look with Steve and lowers his voice like they’re conspiring together “I was a little… shall we say elevated”

Steve literally giggles “I knew it smelled a little funkier than usual” he winks.

“What can I say I’m a funky guy-“ Eddie gets cut off by the small saw the doctors are aiming at his hand. Steve can tell he’s about to freak out he sees him start to pull his hand away.

He puts his hand on Eddie’s other arm and brings his attention back to him. He glances down at his guitar pick necklace. “Do you play the guitar?” He asks his hand never leaves Eddie’s arm. And that gets Eddie distracted going on and on about his sweetheart and his band and how they play at a place called the hideout and Steve listens intently. Steve’s more than kind of mesmerized by him.

Before either of them realize the ring is off. The charge nurse asks Steve to finish wrapping Eddie’s fingers and discharge him. Steve goes about getting the gauze and other supplies while still listening to Eddie now he’s talking about D&D something Steve knew more about than he wished thanks to Dustin.

He interrupts Eddie “Okay so I’m gonna put this ointment on just for some relief the saw blade didn’t cut you but it got a little hot for your skin so you might feel a little discomfort. Then I’ll wrap it up. Try to keep an eye if it starts to hurt worse or you have a reaction. I can sneak you some of this it works wonders” he starts to clean the tray off but Eddie stops him with his hand over Steve’s own.

“Do you think I could have my ring back?” He asks sheepishly.

“Oh yeah! Of course sorry I wasn’t thinking” Steve’s a little embarrassed of course he wanted his ring he probably didn’t even care about the stupid ointment. He puts the ring in a little plastic cup they use for pills. Unfortunately they had to cut it a few times so there’s some small bits of the band that are in pieces.

After Eddie signs all the paperwork he gives Steve a little bow in thanks “you probably couldn’t tell since I was being so brave” Eddie says. Steve giggles at that. “But I am a tad frightened of hospitals and stuff. So thanks for being so nice to me. And distracting me when they tried to saw my finger off”

“They would not saw your finger off!” Steve laughs even harder. “It was nice talking to you.” He gives Eddie a hopefully flirty smile.

“Whatever you say, Stevie” Eddie says after he glances down at Steve’s temporary badge. “But hey if it was so nice maybe you can come check out our next show after my fingers are fully recovered” he waggles said fingers but then winces and stops.

Steve reaches out for his injured hand and holds it and says “that actually sounds really nice. But I literally have no time out of school and clinicals.”

“Well maybe I’ll just have to find another way to injure myself to see you again” Eddie says getting bolder.

Steve looks deep into his eyes. He glances down at Eddie’s lips god he wishes he wasn’t literally working right now. “What if you didn’t hurt yourself again and I give you my number and you can come by when I get off my shift.”

Eddie considers for a second and hands Steve his own phone so Steve can put his number in. “That sounds doable” he leans close to Steve’s ear as he gathers his jacket to walk out of the curtained off area and then whispers “just like you” he winks over his shoulder at a gaping Steve.

When Eddie pulls out his phone after getting to the van he sees the newest contact in his phone “Stevie” with a little stethoscope emoji next to it. He sends Steve a quick text so he’ll be able to text him when he’s off.

Finally Steve takes a break and checks his phone he’s been dying to check it since Eddie left he has a text from an unknown number “Guess who *guitar emoji* *ring emoji*” Steve cannot stop grinning the rest of his shift.

#this started as a post about wanting more nurse Steve #then it didn’t stop #still think I need more cause I think it fits him so well #mean girl turned nurse #I mean that is Steve #I know he’s a reformed mean girl but still #nurse Steve #steddie #steddie ficlet #my writing #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #over use of emojis in text

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cistematicchaos · 10 days ago

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Something strangely enlightening about being at the psych ward and being considered a "good patient" for part of my time is that different in power people working there tried to include me in their "in crowd" jokes and…like...

I was judging most of them for working there in the first place, ngl. It was literally like a fucking prison. There were people there from prison who repeatedly said they would rather be back in prison than there.

But talking to and having nurses and doctors and attendants try to pull me into the little "in crowd" was so fucking scary. Hearing them joke about other patients, hearing them talk among themselves...The amount of them who held genuine distain for all the patients, who were talking about actual fucking eugenics on the regular was fucking horrifying.

I was legit dealing with someone who wanted to rape me on the regular and he was not as scary as the woman who pulled me aside to explain to me she thought I was a good patient, in the wrong hospital, because this place was for people who "didn't belong in society" and how they would either get them on meds so they could become "proper citizens" or they would stay in and out of solitary the rest of their lives.

I've never felt so fucking helpless in my life. Using what little leverage I had to help patients being treated like shit was like walking a tightrope and I feel awful for every single one of them forced to stay there and endure that treatment.

I don't give AF why they were there, no one there fucking deserved the shit that was going on.

#chaos is speaking #ableism #disability #psych ward #actually mentally ill #sanism #mad punk #psych abuse

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cheriladycl01 · 6 months ago

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Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P9

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

Once you'd woken up and were told you wouldn't be able to race until Silverstone you were devastated.

You cried and cried until your mum pulled up your team principle phoned you and explained their was no way they were replacing you yet. You still had your seat.

You were still in the hospital by the time Hungary had come around and were forced to watch it on your iPad being told of by the nurses every time you got to excited.

Lando, Charles and Alex all had done special helmets for you being close to you. And they'd actually all attempted to call you and visit you. They'd gotten a few fleeting texts from you but that was about general stuff but as far as they were told you were refusing to have visitors which upset them all.

By the time Monza came two weeks later, you were so down in the dumps and even though you were out the hospital you couldn't bring yourself to go to the paddock.

And because of the long distance travel you also didn't attend Montreal. You watched at home with your parents who were just as worried about your mental health as they were with your physical health.

When Physio started with your personal trainer you were so demotivated and cried to him almost every day. But he was there for you the whole time, and he really shouldn't have been as it was private between the two of you, but whenever he was called to Germany to the Audi HQ he would tell Alex how you were doing, which in turn led Alex to tell the grid what was going on.

Monaco was the first race you attended even though a lot of people were apprehensive with you coming because of your injuries. But it was Monaco and you felt ready to see everyone.

You walked through the paddock and all the fans were shocked to see you there.

Strangely they were all super respectful, not crowding or touching you in places that may hurt and didn't stick around for long. It was a nice feeling being back in the paddock but almost felt like something was missing. You weren't going to be on track or racing.

"Y/N?" a voice behind you calls that you know all to well.

"Lan?" you smile and open your arms slowly, he comes closer to you tears in his eyes as he looks over you.

"I- I'm sorry its all my fault" he cries looking over you before carefully wrapping his arms around you. He yaps some more about how it was his fault and how he shouldn't be racing today it should be you and you had to literally stop him from talking.

"Lan, its fine. I'm not upset. I'm glad you are okay. It happens in racing and hey I'll be back racing in Silverstone hopefully" you grinned and you guys spoke for a while until he was needed else where. He really didn't want to leave but you'd practically forced him too.

Then Alex and Lily came, demanding why you didn't let them come see you and why you'd been living under a rock all this time.

"I'm sorry guys, but I was just really down with not being able to do much and you know it was hard after the accident coming to terms with everything. I was embarrassed and didn't want to see anyone" you'd explained and Lily tried to look furious but turned to thankful yet worried older sister in seconds, pulling you into a light hug in order not to hurt you while Alex rubbed your shoulder.

You all had a really heartfelt moment that was caught by some media teams, Alex and Lily dragged you back to the Audi garage and made sure you had a comfortable seat, everyone was really happy to see you again and you ended up being bombarded with questions.

You spent some time with the reserve driver who was happy to be filling in for you but knew this wasn't a free seat to take as he knew you'd be back and he knew Audi would want you back.

And afterwards you spend time watching free practice. It was always fun in Monaco and it was supposed to be your first year as a driver here, you'd yet to drive the historic track and you knew 2027 might be better for you but ... you couldn't help but feel that sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach.

You had what Amy Santiago had FOMOAW - Fear of Missing Out at Work.

The day was ending up and you were taking a slow walk back to the car where you parents were waiting to take you back to the hotel. Walking was still a little difficult and painful but you knew the more you moved in little increments the quicker you'd be back to racing.

"Y/N?" some shouts from behind you but it seems shocked and more like a question. You stand still for a second, trying to correlate that voice and of course it was Charles Leclerc.

"Hello Charlie" you say softly.

The accident had put a lot into perspective for you. Silly pettiness from you would have potentially cost Charles ever being able to understand you had forgiven him, if things had taken a turn for the worst in the hospital. And in fact you'd forgiven him a very long time ago but you didn't want to show that in fear of getting hurt again.

"Oh my gosh, you are here!" he says carefully looking over at you.

"Yeah, I'm here" you smile looking at him. He looked a little rough, not a bad rough but like all his usual pristine self-care had depleted.

"Look , i need to say this before you run away or leave I need to get it off my chest!" he lets out in a breath and you cant help but giggle a little.

"I'm not going too-" you start but he steps closer to interrupt you.

"Please just let me ... i need to explain my, what i did it was not right and I am sorry. I - i shouldn't have believed stupid stupid whispers around the paddock, and I shouldn't have let Ferrari make a complaint against you. I really like you. You are an incredible driver and I think you are going to come so far in the sport... i mean you already have its amazing but ... fuck I'm getting of track. What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry and can we please start over again as friends and can you forgive me for all those cruel things i said" he asks looking over your expression which was one of concentration hanging off every word he was telling you.

"Charlie... look i forgave you a long time ago. I knew you didn't mean it, you were just heated with the races. Like we all are... and you know Ferrari wouldn't have listened to you on a matter like this... so i no longer hold a grudge for any of it. Okay?" you smile and he looks shocked.

"So I am forgiven?" he asks and you nod, moving closer and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Forgiven ... IF" you start with a smirk making him frown and his puppy eyes come out in worry.

"You buy me dinner. I'm starving and I'm not racing right now so I'm craving a really greasy pizza or cheeseburger" you smile and he nods.

"I- I can do dinner" he smiles and you nod walking away with a big grin on your face.

Charles was in shock, to the point he remained there until Carlos found him just staring into the abyss and he told him all about what had just happened.

And for you, well ...

The world, despite you not racing, felt righted.

For now.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #Charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #cl16 one shot #cl16 x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16

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puffyrice · 2 months ago

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I’ve been debating whether to talk about this stuff on here, but I need to just get it out somewhere.

I’m disabled. I talk every once in a while about it on here, but I got really sick a month into my first semester of nursing school. I have lupus, fibromyalgia, POTS, and Ehler’s Danlos Syndrome. When I got lupus it caused me to be so sick I could barely walk at all for about 4 months.

I got on all the meds and I do PT, but I am physically disabled. I have terrible fatigue and chronic pain. My pain isn’t really well managed yet, and I walk with a cane. It’s hard for me to be on my feet for more than an hour or so with my cane, depending on the day. Every day is unpredictable.

I’ve been forcing my way through nursing school by sheer stubbornness, even though it makes me seriously ill. I really actually love being in school. I love studying and learning and I’m even tutoring other nursing students this semester.

This semester is my first hospital clinical, which starts this Friday. The thing is, there is a not zero chance that my body literally can’t handle 9 hours of clinical.

Before I was sick I happily did 12+ hours as a vet tech. Now, I have a hard time getting up the stairs or going to the store most days.

There is a chance I will have to leave school, whether it be temporary or permanent. I tried to be able to split my clinical into 2 half days, but they declined that.

So, I may not be able to be a student or a nurse, even though it’s what I love. I’m trying really hard not to connect my whole identity to this goal, but it’s hard not to when I’m so passionate about it.

Anyway. I really appreciate anyone who read all this. I’ll post an update after my Friday rotation.

I’m terrified and heartbroken at how my life suddenly got all flipped around by chronic illness. I hope I can keep giving you the content I love sharing so much.

#study blog #nursing student #studyblr #disabled #chronically ill #chronic pain #chronic illness #lupus #systemic lupus erythematosus #fibromyalgia #pots #personal #please be kind

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farfromstrange · 11 months ago

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Do No Harm

CHAPTER TWO: Imposter Syndrome

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You've been trying your hardest to focus on your work, but there is something else that is bothering you. Claire decides to give you a call and check up on you. It seems like both of you are keeping secrets of your own, and then there is this handsome lawyer who refuses to leave your mind after he quite literally burst your little bubble of solitude...

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mentions of domestic violence, Reader's POV, use of reader's fake name

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: It took me a few tries to finish this chapter because I couldn't, for the life of me, settle on a plot, but I think I've got it figured out now. I didn't do the classic "this scene from another POV", I switched it up a bit, so what happened in chapter one isn't repeated word for word. I think it flows better like this. I hope you guys like it, and thank you for your support so far! I really appreciate it.

Read Chapter 2: Imposter Syndrome on AO3.

The human body holds up to six liters of blood. Without saline or a blood transfusion, losing more than two liters can be fatal—and every drop lost after that decreases your chance of survival. A paper cut won’t kill you, but a gunshot wound might. It’s a simple equation that doesn’t require a medical degree to solve.

If the human body experiences trauma though, everything is on the line. A nicked vessel or artery can lead to a bloodbath. Trauma to any of the major organs can lead to internal bleeding and cause the body to suffer fatal consequences. You could lose too much blood too fast, or the blood could travel to your brain, and you could herniate.

Depending on the place of injury, trauma can lead to a large number of complications that are therefore a threat to life. But it’s not just blood that the human body needs to survive; oxygen is another vital player in the game against time. Without it, the brain dies, and if the brain is dead, there is nothing anyone can do to bring you back.

Many things could kill a human being, and many complications could occur in a split second, and that makes trauma an unpredictable event.

Your fingers instantly stop moving over the keys of your computer when the black phone on your desk starts screaming. At first, your eyes switch to your phone, but you have any non-emergent calls silenced. That explains it.

You flinch. You suddenly become painfully aware of the city’s lights shining on you from behind, the blue light of your laptop illuminating your face and causing your pupils to shrink, and the bulb in your desk lamp that is flickering every so often, reminding you that you need to switch it sometime soon.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, then press the acceptance button. You answer the phone. “This is Doctor Clarke at Metro General,” you say. “How can I help you?”

“Jesus,” the familiar voice reaches your ears, and you let out an almost annoyed sigh. “You sound like hell,” Claire answers.

“And you don’t sound sick,” you retort.

You aren’t sure what to make of her sudden mystery illness, or why she didn’t tell you and you had to find out from the hospital administrator who was losing it over the fact that her favorite nurse called out sick that morning.

The phone goes silent for a short moment before she says, “It’s complicated.”

“Hey, we all need sick days sometimes,” you shrug. “Just took us all by surprise, is all.”

“Are you trying to turn this around on me so we won’t have to talk about you?”

Your lips part in a dry chuckle. “Is this about me?” you ask, even though you know very well that it is. You’re the one trying to deflect.

“You silenced your phone.”

With another sigh, you push the stack of papers you’ve been working on aside and take the next folder from the pile. “I’m fine.” You hold the X-ray picture up to the light, squinting your eyes. “Just... splendid, yeah. You want me to do a psych eval? Urine sample? My social security number?”

You can physically hear her roll her eyes at your comment. “Can’t I just be worried about you without you taking it like a personal attack?”

It’s a loaded, rhetorical question asked in a tone that you are more than familiar with. It is a train wreck waiting to happen, but Claire is your friend—a very caring friend, too—and she hardly ever lets loose when she wants to know something.

She knows you better than anyone, after all. She knows everything, even the parts you swore to never talk about again—parts you swore you would take to the grave.

That is the purpose of a new life, isn’t it? Forgetting the past ever happened, then moving on? If that could actually heal trauma, life would be so much easier. Unfortunately, denial tends to make the wounds bleed faster. You will die faster if you keep it all bottled up, but it’s easier said than done when it comes to reality. Sometimes, denial is the only luxury you can afford for yourself, even if it slowly kills you.

You have seen your fair share of traumatic injuries pass in and out of the emergency room over the years. Not just physically but mentally as well. There is only a small margin of error in an even smaller time frame in which traumatic injuries can be treated without lifelong consequences. The scars though, they remain forever.

“Look,” Claire continues softly, “I’m worried about you. I know you hate talking about yourself, but every once in a while, I have to make sure you’re alright and not... falling apart or something.”

You swallow thickly, the lump slowly starting to hurt your esophagus. “Why would I be falling apart?” you question, but your voice no longer has the same level of conviction in it.

Feigned confidence doesn’t go a very long way, you’ve noticed. You can’t stand your ground when you don’t believe in where you’re standing.

“A little birdy told me you had a bad day. That’s why.”

In the halls of a hospital—any hospital—word travels faster than lightning. You roll your eyes, but you don’t know what to say. She isn’t wrong. You did have a bad day. Your blood is still boiling. Everything in you feels a hundred pounds heavier. You may not be falling apart because there is not much of a foundation left to fall apart, but the feeling is eerily similar.

You used to be a beloved surgeon at a prestigious hospital for all five years of your residency, but with each year that passed, what had once been just a spark turned into gigantic flames that slowly began torching your skin. They burned your flesh and dragged it down to your fragile bones. Your body went into shock over the years. You became septic. And it almost killed you, too.

Your heart froze in place before it miserably cracked. It didn’t take long before the inferno took over every last crevice of your life. It burnt out everything that was remotely good for you. You were so dependent on something—someone—that was slowly poisoning you.

You ran for months. You moved from State to State, you changed your name and your whole identity twice. You tried everything to get away, but your demons kept haunting you. The distance between you and your old life grew bigger until eventually, you reached the other side of the country, hundreds of miles from the hell you escaped from. There was nothing left in your past to exist for, so you became someone else. You lost yourself and gained a stranger’s identity in return. Someone who wasn’t scarred from a battle that she almost fully lost.

You thought it would be easy to pretend to be someone else, someone without the same wounds that have been inflicted on you, but that turned out to be the wrong thing to believe.

Claire’s voice rings out again. “What’s going on with you, Liv?” she asks.

You’re not really present at the moment, but this time, you hear her.

You shake your head. “Nothing.” It’s a blatant lie, but it rolls over your tongue so easily, you are tempted to believe it yourself before your friend even can.

“You keep zoning out,” she says. “You’re not helping your case.”

“It’s been a long day, that’s all. What’s going on with you?”

Her lips part in a soft exhale. You hit the nail right on the head. “Nothing’s going on with me. I just had to take a sick day. Migraines, you know? I get them sometimes.”

You don’t buy it. Her voice sounds strained, but more like she is forcing herself to sound sicker than she is. Not that you are allowed to judge, it simply strikes you as odd, considering that she isn’t usually like this, and it makes you wonder what else she is keeping from you.

A pregnant pause follows. “I heard about the girl,” Claire says then, changing the subject. You’re both way too good at that. You’re hypocrites.

“Annie,” you cut her off. “Her name’s—was Annie.”

You keep replaying it over and over in your mind. From the moment you received the page to the ER to the little girl landing on your operating table, you retrace all of your steps. You rethink every decision you made, every uttered order, every cut, and every stitch. Every time you do, you come up empty.

Annie was six years old. She got hit by an oncoming car. It was a gruesome sight, but you kept telling yourself that it could have been worse. She was stabilizing when you took her to the operating room. All the tests suggested that controlling the damage could buy some valuable time for the specialists to do their jobs. In your mind, the path was clear to a full recovery.

Everything you did to save her life ended up doing absolutely nothing.

It elicited a feeling that you are more than used to—inadequacy. You know that it is utterly selfish to think that way; this isn’t even about you. The feeling wraps like a noose around your heart, but you can’t allow yourself to make this about you. You’re not that type of person.

Claire takes your silence as an answer. “I logged into the hospital server and took a look at the X-rays,” she says. “That aortic tear was irreparable, as much for you as it would’ve been for the world’s best cardiothoracic surgeon. This wasn’t your fault.”

Your throat tightens. “You don’t know that,” you argue. “I could have caught it earlier. I could’ve… I could’ve done something.”

“No, Liv, you couldn’t have. But I think you know that.”

You search the depths of your mind for the right words to say, but you come up with none. “Who blabbed, anyway?” you ask.

In this case, though, the question is, who didn’t? Everyone must have heard about Annie by now, and the people around you care too much. It was bound to reach Claire’s ears eventually. You just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

Claire holds off on her answer for a moment. “Doesn’t matter,” she answers. It’s the kindest choice. “What matters is that you can’t beat yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.” Her voice suggests that she’s smiling.

“I…I’m fine,” you lie.

“I know you’re not.”

“You’re the one who called in sick but clearly isn’t. You don’t see me bugging you about it.”

That shuts her up for a moment. “This isn’t about me,” Claire tries to talk herself out of it, but you see right through her.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“I—” She sighs. “I promise you, if there was something going on, I’d tell you.”

You should return the sentiment. You should tell her what you’re really thinking, but you’re mute. When it comes to your own feelings, all words in the English dictionary elude you.

Still, the feeling that Claire is lying to you keeps eating away at you. She has no reason to. Or maybe she has, but it’s none of your business. You’re curious, maybe a little worried, but you can’t expect her to tell you every little thing about her life and then refuse to do the same because you can’t possibly ask for help with something you don’t even understand yourself.

You’re miserable enough as it is. You would rather suffer through it alone than bother her with your chronic overthinking and the fear of failure.

“I’m still cat-sitting for Jenny,” she breaks you out of your thoughts.

You chuckle slightly. “But you’re allergic to cats,” you say.

“I know, but…” She stops herself. “The point is, I still have an almost full bottle of white wine in the fridge and there’s this deliciously cheap pizza place around the corner. Their breadsticks are to die for, trust me. You could come over after your shift and we could look after that stupid cat together. Maybe. Just until we both feel better.”

Until you both feel better. You feel like it would take more than wine and pizza to make you feel better.

You need to sulk. You need to marinate in your misery. That way, you can suck it up and be better next time. Everything else seems like too much of a waste of time.

You shatter what little hope she had about you agreeing to her offer like a full wine glass on a white cloth, sure to leave stains. Your hand momentarily motions toward the stack of paperwork, but then you remember that she can’t see over the phone. “I wish I could,” you say, “but I have to finish my surgical reports by tomorrow.”

Claire nods slowly. “Are you sure it’s the paperwork?”

“I promise.”

She accepts defeat. She can’t change your mind. You’re stubborn, determined, and a pain in the ass most of the time. She still loves you, but she has long given up on forcing you out of your shell.

Sometimes, which is more often than not, you prefer to be miserable because you have no idea how to be anything else.

“Well, I tried. So… at least call me if you need anything,” she says.

You offer her a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You’re tired. Your heart is pounding from all the caffeine and the frustration of the unknown. You have paperwork. As long as you have paperwork, you’re occupied. It’s as good a reason to avoid talking about anything that could be considered even remotely personal.

“Thank you, Claire. For everything,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “Take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you later.”

You hate that you’re like this, but you can’t change who you are now or what all those years of suffering have made out of you. You can’t change the fact that underneath Olivia Clarke, it is not who you are. And it will never be who you are because her identity is a fraud.

You may have escaped the worst time of your life and traded it for a fresh start, but that doesn’t take away the paralyzing fear that still sits deep in your bones, making it impossible for you to sleep at night. It may be a fresh start to a new life, but the slate is far from clean. There are bloodstains that you can’t get out. Stains that will haunt you forever.

Every day and every night that you spend at the hospital, you’re reminded of the terrible past that threatens to overshadow your future whenever you set foot outside. Your name may be Olivia Clarke, but that will never be your real name, no matter how badly you try to pretend it to be. And on some days, it breaks you just a little more when you fail at the one thing you have always excelled at. The one thing you have dedicated your life to. To do something good, to be worth something, and to prove the cruel monsters in your mind wrong about their assessment of you.

You don’t want to be a coward. You don’t want to be weak. You don’t want to be dependent on anything or anyone ever again. You forgot how to be happy. You became someone you’re not because the person you used to be was broken by someone she thought she could trust.

He took everything from you, and he took all that you are. Olivia was never taken advantage of.

Claire saved your life. She knows the truth, but facts aren’t enough. She’s your only support system, the only one who knows who you truly are, deep down, and yet she knows nothing at all.

Long after you’ve hung up the phone, you start wandering the halls of Metro General. You haven’t quite figured out what you’re looking for yet. You want to be alone. You want to be not needed. You want to exist somewhere that isn’t here. And you don’t want to be found, just for a little while.

When you get settled on an empty bed in one of internal medicine’s abandoned hallways that had to be emptied after severe budget cuts affected the hospital, the tears start pouring out without warning. You barely manage to stifle the sobs that slip past your lips. You hate crying. You used to believe that it was a sign of weakness, but tears have become as much of a partner in crime to you as the pain has.

It’s not as easy as it used to be to hold all of those treacherous feelings in—feelings you don’t even understand yourself—and that makes you hate yourself enough to cry even harder. Because you try, try, and you try even harder as you give all of yourself over and over again to be someone you never thought you would turn into, and still, you find yourself failing more times than you could possibly count.

Your life ended when you met the man who ruined you; ever since then, you have only been a shell of the person you used to be, and there is seemingly nothing you can do about it other than accept that Olivia Clarke is who you are now, and she is all you can be.

You didn’t expect another lonely soul in need of an escape to find his way to your little haven. This hallway isn’t even on the hospital map anymore, but he still somehow found his way here.

Your eyes switch to his cane, the red glasses, and the way he so awkwardly carries himself when he seems to realize that he, in fact, isn’t alone. You know that feeling of instant disappointment all too well, and he just caught you crying, which only makes matters worse.

After the initial awkwardness has dissipated and you get to talking, you take a moment to appreciate him. His name is Matthew. He is a defense attorney. He is unlike any man you’ve ever met before. You’re cautious when it comes to new people, but there is something almost calm about him. He’s funny, charming, and he’s respectful. He made you feel comfortable from the start.

There is a mystery surrounding him. You know all about mysteries. They draw you in. They make you feel less alone in a way. He is the biggest one you have encountered so far.

People tend to consider you an enigma, too. Most of them are wary of you because you barely share anything about yourself. You’re still learning, even after two years, to be someone new. You’re constantly reinventing yourself because all you were before is gone now. You lost yourself in the fire. So, most people you meet don’t talk much when they do; you’ve gotten used to having only one friend. It keeps your identity safe, as guarded as you are. It’s the safest bet for everyone involved—or everyone not involved.

Matthew is different. He seems genuinely curious, but he doesn’t pry. And that makes you open yourself up to him, even if it is just your body language. He’s sitting right next to you, his calm voice like a gentle symphony in your ear. He serenades you every time he speaks. That is a dangerous quality. He’s an attractive man, and you can’t keep your eyes off of him. You can’t stop listening. He’s like a work of art—a damaged work of art.

The man before you is broken and bruised. That’s what makes him so mysterious. The hesitation you showed when he introduced himself, indirectly asking for a piece of you in return, shows when you ask about his injuries.

You have seen all kinds of injuries, including those on a blind man who fell down the stairs. Matthew doesn’t fit the profile, and that only makes him more mysterious and therefore more interesting to you.

You have to stop yourself before you ask too many questions. You don’t want to push him away, but you also can’t draw him in. You can be nice, but that is as far as you are willing to go. You hold your walls so high that no one can break through them, no matter how fascinating or attractive they are.

Matthew is a dangerous man because he makes you feel things that you have long told yourself never to feel again. But it’s hard when he makes it so easy to like him.

You patch him up. It’s not just professional courtesy; he seems like he desperately needs someone to look after him. You are being nice to him, that is all. You keep telling yourself the same thing.

You’re still disappointed when you get paged to the emergency room and you have to leave him behind. The chances that you will see him again are low, and they shrink to zero when you return to the hallway four hours later and find it dark and empty again. The plastic packaging of the bandages you used on him is still lying around, but that is all that is left of him. All you have is a memory of a very unexpected encounter that will probably never occur again.

But maybe that isn’t such a bad thing, after all. At least like this, you can’t make the mistake of falling for a guy claiming to be nice. At least like this, you can keep your fragile and already broken heart safe from enduring the same kind of pain ever again.

You pass the nurse’s station in the emergency room on your way out. Dropping the chart of your last patient on the counter, you wish everyone a good night.

“Liv, before you leave–” One of the senior nurses stops you dead in your tracks, “Someone left a card for you,” she says.

You turn around, frowning at her. “A card?” you ask. “Who did?”

Her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Handsome fella. And he had good manners.”

Your mind reels. There are only a handful of people that would fit that description. Every time someone leaves something behind for you, your first response is to panic. Your blood pressure spikes. You can feel your heart beating up to your throat and your vision blurs. You’re not a fan of the suspense or knowing grins, and it’s obvious.

The nurse’s smile fades and she rummages through the stack of papers next to the computer. “He only knew your first name and his blindness made it a bit harder to figure out who he was talking about, but thankfully we only have one excellent trauma surgeon named Olivia,” she says, her eyes still twinkling. She can’t help it.

You let out an audible exhale. Your body relaxes. Your heart rate slows down. You can finally see her clearly again, and she slides the card across the counter for you to take. You want to apologize for the hostility, but her face tells you that she understands.

The next time your heart starts beating faster, it isn’t out of panic. You look down at the names on the card and the distinctive number on the back, and your brain releases a sudden rush of dopamine. It’s late, you’re tired, but somehow this little gesture puts a surprising smile on your face.

You shouldn’t be as excited as you are. Your plan for this evening has been tossed far out of the window in an instant.

“So,” the nurse asks, “who is he? A patient? A friend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “A guy from Hinge?”

You shake your head. “Just… a guy I met,” you answer.

If he were an official patient, this would be highly unethical and you would have to toss his number into the nearest trash can.

The blood has permanently settled into your cheeks. You’re not usually the kind of person who blushes. It’s infuriating.

With a chuckle, she leans over. “Well, either way, the guy was smoking. Said you should give him a call. I hope for your sake that you do.”

You keep twisting and turning the card. “What else did he say?”

“Not much. Just said that I should give this to you and that you should call him if you want. You must’ve made quite the impression.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. You would’ve never suspected this. You are essentially still a stranger to him, and he still left you his number. He wants you to call him.

It makes no sense, and yet it flatters you like nothing has in quite a while.

You let out a soft sigh before stuffing the card into the pocket of your coat. Looking up, you meet the nurse’s curious eyes.

Your mind is taking its time to process your thoughts and the feelings connected to your thoughts.

She chuckles at the bewildered look in your eyes. You must look like a fool. “Where does one meet a specimen like that anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?” she says. “‘Cause I desperately need me one of those.”

A beat of silence follows. Then, you wet your lips and answer, “Abandoned hallways. Way more effective than Hinge, apparently.”

The subtle joke makes her laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You put in the effort to fake a smile with your nod. “Well, thank you,” you say. “You guys have a good shift. If you need anything, page me.”

“Will do,” she says. The other nurses nod. Of course, they listened in on your conversation.

With another small wave in their general direction, you make your way outside into the cool night air. You retrieve the business card from your coat, your eyes roaming over the names carefully printed on it, and the Braille that has been added for obvious reasons.

Nelson & Murdock. Attorneys at law.

From what he told you, this is probably the only somewhat expensive thing he and his partner afforded for a semi-successful marketing plan for their practice. It almost makes you chuckle.

Matt Murdock is a very fascinating man, though as you stare at the card and the number on the back you can’t help but feel a slight hint of unease bubble up in your chest, and you ask yourself, what did you get yourself into?

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fluff #reader insert #matt murdock fic #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

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rottenpumpkin13 · 5 months ago

Note

I'm curious, what do you think was the WORST injury Zack had and SOMEHOW got away with it? You can go Hurt/No Comfort if you want we're all collective masochists in the end

Have it your way >:^) - also this took so long because I wrote a version that was not a fun read for the Zack enjoyers and had to tone it down asdfghjk

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

He vaguely recalled reading an article about comatose patients: how their consciousness, though unresponsive, remained active—suspended in void between life and death, poised to be drawn toward one or the other. Comas were like waiting rooms, and he almost wished he had something to occupy his mind—a magazine, a comic book, even a crossword puzzle, despite his usual disdain for them; anything to drown out the voices that began at precisely 4 PM each day.

Angeal was always the first to arrive, the squeak of his boots unmistakable against the polished hospital floor. He would listen intently as the supervising nurse provided updates on the condition—“No significant changes in his neurological status, the expected timeframe for him regaining consciousness remains uncertain.” But Angeal's positivity never wavered. "He will," he would insist, bless his ignorance, "Zack's strong.. He'll pull through this, I know he will."

In the first week, Zack wanted to shout, “Hell yeah I am! Watch, Angeal, I’ll be out of here in no time!” By the third week, it was as if he’d lost his voice—both literally and metaphorically. Zack prided himself on his perseverance, as if he were born with sunny-tinted glasses that allowed him to pull through everything without a fight.

Scraped knees as a child became cool battle wounds in his childhood; timeouts transformed into prisons the warrior he pretended to be had to escape; and the vegetables his mother forced him to eat were poison he had to avoid at all costs. Naturally, the waiting room analogy was what he clung to in order to stay sane.

Next came Sephiroth, heralded by the unmistakable clatter of his shoulder guards—a sound Zack likened to a cat bell, one he’d be sure to tease Sephiroth about when he woke up. Sephiroth never asked the nurse for updates; Angeal must have already filled him in. Instead, he would walk silently over to the bed, place a hand gently on Zack’s forehead, and whisper softly: “I miss you. Get well soon,” before carefully adjusting his blankets, making sure Zack was comfortable.

Inside, Zack was desperately screaming, "I will, I promise!" but Sephiroth couldn't hear him. By the fourth week, the harder Zack tried to scream, the further he felt from reality.

Then came Genesis, his presence inundating the room. He spoke to Zack as if he were awake, greeting him with a cheerful, "Good evening, Puppy," and proudly asking, "What do you think of my new coat?" Zack wished he would never stop talking. Genesis would then sit beside him and read aloud from Loveless. Zack suspected it was Genesis’ version of a prayer, and for that, he didn't mind at all.

And then there was Cloud. Zack's longing to scream out surged whenever he caught the meek shuffle of Cloud's boots, followed by the faint squeak of him thanking the nurse before entering. Cloud would meticulously style Zack's hair, crafting his signature spikes with care, as if determined to preserve Zack's essence even in his incapacitated state. His touch was gentle as he spoke to Zack as though he were awake and listening intently. Cloud would vent about his rowdy squad mates, grumble about his stern commanding officer, and lament the monotony of patrol missions where he strived to do his best

And then came the most difficult confession.

"I'm gonna stop trying out for SOLDIER," Cloud admitted one day, his voice soft as he tended to the flowers by Zack's bedside. "Tryouts are approaching, but… it just wouldn't feel right without you. Not that I'm all that confident I'd make it anyway, but I can't bring myself to do it without you here."

If Cloud could glimpse inside Zack's mind, he'd hear him screaming.

He was so helpless, trapped inside that cage, that body that wouldn't just WAKE UP. He needed to get up, he needed to be there for Cloud, and for Angeal who wasted so much time training him, and for Genesis who was finally starting to warm up to him, and for Sephiroth, who’s friendship he valued so much.

But it was useless.

He wanted to give up.

So he did.

He caved, and let the darkness take him.

But it rejected Zack. As much as death teased and loved to embrace him, it eventually always spat him out again. And maybe that was Zack Fair’s curse, cemented when his eyes fluttered open one morning.

Hovering above him was the unmistakable silhouette of a SOLDIER. With great effort, he lifted his heavy eyelids, only to find Kunsel standing before him, his appearance clearly older than the last time he had seen him. Zack should have noticed the calendar hanging on the wall, its numbers spelling out the year "0007."

Yet, instead of acknowledging the date, Zack's trembling voice broke through the silence. He questioned Kunsel, struggling with each word. He asked about Angeal, Cloud, Sephiroth, and Genesis.

Kunsel looked grim before replying.

“There was a mass desertion at SOLDIER years ago.”

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #crisis core #writing #cloud strife

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years ago

Text

Cowboy!reader Masterlist

Because apparently y’all love this lol (see- see what I did there? Y’all)

I'm trying to put these in a rough order as I go in the fic universe to try and make it easier to read aha

Edith

Description: cowboy has an elderly neighbour (this is literally just cowboy and his neighbour, in my head set before he joins the BAU) Warnings: none

Interestin'

Description: Cowboy reader is new to the team and is feeling unheard. Warnings: bad government knowledge on Atlas' part, I did try to google it but idk guys, trying my best here. Oh, also, stress eating.

I Understand

Description: directly follows from 'interestin'', cowboy reader talks down a teenage unsub. Warnings: guns, hostage negotiations, untrusting team

Lies

Description: Directly follows 'I Understand', Hotch accuses cowboy reader of lying to the teen unsub. Warnings:

The Post That Started It All

Description: Warnings: gunshot wound.

Baking and House Plants

Description: Warnings: briefly mentions anxiety.

Poetry

Description: Cowboy and Spencer talk about reading Warnings: the only thing I can think of is that reader suggests to spencer to read the warnings of a book reader likes

Allergies (Not Really)

Description: Warnings: transphobia, sad reader, guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck.

More (Not) Allergies

Description: Allergies (Not Really) Part 2 Warnings: minor sad reader.

Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise

Description: Warnings: minor car accident, unsub is not a nice man, brief mentions of killings/murders.

Stronger Coffee

Description: an cop says a few offhand comments about Derek and you don't take no shit. Warnings: hints to racism (nothing 'on screen'), blood

Mama's Boy

Description: (Follow up from Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise) Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and kidnapping (super brief), a man tries to intimidate a woman, that’s about it. Oh, some swearing.

Pretty As A picture

Description: Warnings: a shelter?

Gay Panic

Description: Warnings: gay panic, some unsavoury thoughts - like one

Gay Panic Part 2

Description: Cowboy gets hit on Warnings: None

Darla

Description: Cowboy is in love... Warnings: n/a

Tattoos

Description: the team sees cowboy's tattoos Warnings: n/a

Mermaids and Unicorns

Description: A kid sees his first real life cowboy Warnings: n/a

Protector

Description: a guy hits on JJ at a bar and cowboy reader is not happy about it. Set before they confess their feelings, they're still "friends" here. Warning: unwanted touching (arm around the shoulder), and guy tries to kiss JJ (when she doesn't want it)

Sleepover

Description: JJ thinks cowboy looks huggable. Warnings: none

Sunflower Seeds

Description: Warnings: Death, sadness, abuse, bad foster parents, death of a child, murderous foster parents. Word count: 2403

Quit

Description: Warnings: Smoking, addiction (smoking)

The Art of Actually Quitting

Description: JJ helps cowboy tackle his smoking addiction. Warnings: Addiction, reader snaps

I'm Sorry, I Promise, Have Some Flowers

Description: Warnings:

My Bio Daddy

Description: Not sexy times I swear. Cowboy reader's father visits, things don't go too well... Warnings: abuse, abusive parents, abduction, claustrophobia, judgy nurse, hospital visits, child abuse mentions

Farmers Tan

Description: just a little snippet of cowboy reader and the team really Warnings: n/a

Southern Belle Ex

Description: the BAU run into an old friend of cowboy reader while near his home town Warning: jealousy, mentions past smoking addiction, that's about it

Home

Description: Being close to home, the team finally get to meet reader's family. Things start out great and then... Not so much. Reader makes sure his younger brother knows that despite what their parents have said, he's still there for them. Warning: homophobia, someone nearly says the f-slur twice (they don't say the whole thing, reader puts them in their place), mentions of going to conversion therapy, pro-conversion therapy views, being kicked out because of sexuality, unaccepting parents, unaccepting sibling (Jason's a bit of a dick and I stand by that). I think that's everything.

Outlaws

Description: Cowboy reader babysits Jack Warnings: None

I was worried

Description: Warnings: Blood, guns, gun shot wound, passing out, hospitals, some swear words

Sleepless

Description: cowboy reader can't sleep :( Warnings: can't sleep (idk if it's insomnia tho), very tired reader, I think that's all

Birthday

Description: Warnings: implications of claustrophobia, it's his first birthday party so he's a bit overwhelmed bless him (I say over a fully grown man)

Sick

Description: cowboy reader gets sick and makes some confessions. And it's what everyone's been waiting for Warnings: illness, mentions throwing up (no actual throwing up), cold/flu, mentions high temperature, reader feels rough, yeah

Dates

Description: Warnings:

Crazy Ex Girlfriend

Description: Dana, an old 'friend' of reader turns up at his work place and decides to make a scene. Warnings: reader gets slapped, crazy ex girlfriend, she insults JJ, she calls her a sl^t and wh0re, she also tells reader to 'burn in h3ll'

Rain and Thunder

Description: It's raining, and reader can't help but feel connected with the earth. Ever the romantic, this particular type of weather leads to more discussions of feelings. Takes place quite some time after 'Sick' and 'Dates' but you guys dont know about dates yet. I've not written it yet but it happens before this. Warnings: rain, thunder, lightning, that's it this one is happy feelings, bit cliche but ya know I enjoyed writing it aha

TikTok

Description: Cowboy reader tries tiktok Warnings: None

Guitar

Description: Cowboy reader shows JJ his secret talent (sfw don't worry) Warnings: hints to kissing? That's literally it, oh and some bad language at the end.

(No) Self-Preservation

Description: scar reveal. Warnings: scars, abusive backstory.

Promise

Description: JJ and Cowboy hit a rough patch, the song is promise by Laufey (just in case you can't see it, Tumblr's being annoying for me) Warnings: sadness :'), smoking

Like A ______

Description: Warnings:

Save A Horse

Description: Warnings:

Allergy Reunion

Description: Mia and reader reunite, chaos ensues. Warnings: gun shots, unsubs go to the school, guns, schools targeted, criminal minds levels of violence (maybe even on the slightly tamer side).

All For Nothing (Part 1)

Description: Cowboy doesn't make it in time... Warnings: Death, death of children and a parent, shock, blood, mentions of a shelter/homelessness

taglist under the cut

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17

@xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17 @pinxeajin

I might have missed some people out - I'm very sorry if I have, also please let me know either in my inbox, on here, or message if you wanna be added to the taglist :)

#bau x cowboy reader #bau x reader #bau x male reader #bau #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanficiton #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #cowboy reader #male reader #x male reader

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thefallennightmare · 14 days ago

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Masked: Part Two Teaser

Please enjoy this new teaser cover/snippet for Masked! Not sure exactly when it will be posted. Hopefully soon! I will be posting the CW again, just so people are aware.

18+ TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst, fluff, language, stalking, breaking and entering, watching someone sleep, blood, some medical talk, a very brief mention of bombing and the aftermath of it, a scene of someone receiving stitches, two mentions of the use of drugging, murder, torture, and smut which includes p in v, primal play, knife play, branding, mask kink, chasing through words, consensual nonconsensual, oral with female and male receiving, fingering, possible anal play, bondage, and edging. I might add more to the warnings the further I get along while writing. But for now, these are all the warnings so please, read at your own risk.

A little longer than normal written snippet below the cut!

I sat slumped in the corner of the emergency room, nearly falling out of the chair as I tried to gain my bearings. Fading in and out of disassociation from the last few hours of work.

Blood. Destruction. Death; so much death.

I'd been an emergency room nurse for years and this night was the first night I'd been shaken this bad. All I could see when I closed my eyes was the bodies that were wheeled in, one after the other. It was quiet now, all of us doing whatever we could to save the ones that had a chance while the amount of red tags doubled with each passing minute.

"Hey," a soft voice pulled me from my thoughts and I gave a weak smile over to my coworker, Meri.

"You doing okay?" She asked while sitting next to me.

I shook my head. "No but I will be. I have an appointment with the hospitals therapist in thirty minutes. Just need to talk this out."

Meri patted my knee. "I think that's a good idea. The bombing at the local theater was pretty heavy. Good news is police caught the guy."

"Good," my voice was laced with anger but my body remained slumped in the chair.

"I know now might not be the best time to bring this up, given what happened, but a group of us are going to the local fair once our shift ends. I think it would be a good breath of fresh air; literally." Meri spoke while rising from her chair.

The photo in the pocket of my bloody scrubs weighed heavy as I thought about going out after my shift, already having a plan.

Don't believe his lies were written on the back of the polaroid photo of me holding a fresh bouquet of black petunias that were left in front of my apartment door.

The worst part wasn't the fact that someone had managed to get that close to me to snap a picture without me knowing. It was the fact that I had found this picture in the belongings of one of the victims from the bombing.

No one knew I found the picture, having to log it into evidence if I had.

Swallowing thickly, I glanced up at Meri while weighing the options in my head. I planned on figuring out where Masked.Omens lived to question this photo.

You don't know anything about him, idiot. You don't even know where to look.

Rolling my eyes at the voice in my head, I eventually nodded to Meri. Even though I had strict orders from Masked.Omens from earlier when he left me a note in my work locker to not go anywhere after my shift tonight because he planned on stopping by my apartment to see me. I had less than a minute in my break so I couldn't question how the hell he managed to sneak into the break room of the hospital.

Fuck him, he's lying to you.

"Yeah, I'll be there," I said while sitting up straighter in the chair. "I'll be there around seven."

Meri smiled wide while squealing, the aftermath from tonight already leaving her system.

"Awesome! The Ferris wheel is the main attraction of the fair. So we're definitely riding it!"

Giving her a weak smile, I rose from the chair and with a wave over my shoulder, I walked down the long hallway towards the breakroom. I needed to clean myself up a little bit before my appointment with the therapist.

Riffling through my bag in my locker, I quickly checked my phone and nearly dropped it at the text from an unknown number.

Unknown: I told you not to go anywhere tonight, angel. You might want to rethink your choices otherwise there will be serious consequences.

The brand underneath my breast itched when I remembered the last time I did something that had serious consequences.

How the hell did he know about me going to the fair tonight? It had only been a few minutes since I agreed to go.

Snapping my eyes up toward the camera in the corner of the break room, I flipped it off with a snarl when I realized exactly how Masked.Omens found out.

"Fuck you!" I seethed while throwing the picture and phone back into my purse, and slamming the locker shut.

#tina talks #bad omens #noah sebastian #masked noah sebastian #stalker!noah sebastian #noah sebastian au

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wolffwish · 2 years ago

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More Than Just A Short Time

Warnings: Distressed reader, miscarriage, mentions of anxiety, panic attack, soft!Toto x reader,

A/N: Personal experience used here, so please be understanding. 2022 was the worst year of my life, losing a baby and my fiancé within 3 months of eachother. I’ve been wanting to write something for months, to try and help me cope with my emotions. This hasn’t been spell checked, I literally have finished it and pressed post. So please bear with me if there’s any mistakes or it’s not that great, or sonically cohesive. It’s literally a coping mechanism. I’ve also tried to incorporate Taylor Swift’s “Bigger Than The Whole Sky” as that song has bought me a lot of comfort. Thank you so much for reading and I hope soft Toto brings you comfort if you need it ♥️ my inbox is open to anyone if you need to talk about anything.

It’s been a long 5 days without Toto, and your physical health was declining by the hour. Your period was the heaviest it had ever been, but you didn’t want to tell Toto, because everyone has periods and usually, they’re nothing to worry about.

Toto knew you were struggling physically, and had been the ever-supporting husband that you could’ve dreamed of. Virtually working instead of heading into the office, skipping races and rescheduling meetings or holding them online— to the point where he’d be sitting on the bed with his laptop perched on his lap on Zoom with people at Brackley, with you sleeping next to him and him not taking his hand off of your head once, constantly stroking it to ease your pain.

He was away in Bahrain for first race of the season and it was the longest amount of time he’d been for a few months. You hadn’t been feeling that great in the lead up to him leaving, a bit run down and not your usual self, extremely tired and incredibly nauseous. You just assumed it was your birth control playing up again.

It was Sunday. Race day. You were feeling rough, and after yesterday’s ordeal in the ER followed by a strict instruction for bed rest and preferably someone with you, all you wanted to do was curl up on the couch, watch the race and wait for your man to come home.

You hadn’t been contacting him much over the past 4 days, mainly just good morning and good night texts, as you knew he was going to be flat out busy with media, meetings and all the other stuff that goes with the job he’d worked so hard for.

11am. You heard your phone ping, with his specific text tone and notification lighting up your screen.

💬 1 New Message: Toto🐺♥️ — Liebling, I have a free half hour. Can you talk? We need to talk.

“We need to talk”? You read it three times, making sure you were reading it right. Need? Panic sets in. Usually, when anybody receives a message of “We need to talk.”, ending abruptly with a full stop, that’s never a good sign, right? Right.

Before you could even start typing, he was ringing. Accidentally, you pressed the green answer button, steadily putting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” - your voice broke as you awaited his response.

🐺 “Schatzi? Is that you?”

“What do you mean, is it me? You rang my mobile?”

🐺 “Oh. Thank god. I had a missed call from the hospital, they left a message asking me how you were after yesterday. I didn’t— what happened yesterday, I didn’t know you wen—“

“Oh my god, are you kidding?! They rang you?”

Anger that started in your stomach was slowly making its way up your body, flushing your red cheeks and making your hands grip the phone tighter. You were checked into the ER yesterday after having what you thought was a 3 day long, heavy and extremely painful period. You had to call the ambulance because you were bleeding so heavily you couldn’t control anything, and started to feel dizzy and weak. With nobody around, and Toto working, you had nobody to call.

🐺 “Come on baby, talk to me. Why did you visit the ER?”

You paused. You didn’t know what to say to him, but neither did you want to lie. You knew as soon as the ER nurse asked if you’d had any morning sickness or previous experiences of dark red heavy periods that this wasn’t just a period. You were having a miscarriage, not even knowing you were pregnant.

🐺 “Liebling? Whatever it is, you can tell me. It doesn’t matter that I’m here, ok? You are my priority, just let me in.”

“I can’t tell you over the phone, Toto. I’m sorry. Just concentrate on the race, and I’ll see you later. I love y—“

🐺 “No Schatzi, baby please, I can’t concentrate unless you tell me what’s going on.”

You knew that he wasn’t going to give in. Tears started filling your eyes and the pit of your stomach started knotting. Emotions got the better of you, your breathing started to get shorter and faster, even though you were trying to disguise every bit of it, so you didn’t make him panic even more. But you just couldn’t do it. You fell apart. You needed him, now more than ever.

“I’m sorry, Toto. I didn’t know. You know I’m on birth control, it was just a heavy period, and then the nurses started asking all these questions about morning sickness and the colour of it and they rigged me up to the machine and started doing all these scans and I was really scared and I didn’t know what to do and then they kept apologising to me and I was in such a state I didn’t know what they were talking about until they— until they said it wasn’t a heavy period, and I’d lost—“

That was it. Uncontrollable tears streamed from your eyes as you relived the worst day of your life all over again, for the millionth time. Hysteria creeping in and your adrenaline winning, you began to shake. You’d been reliving every second of it since you got home, and it took a lot of persuasion for you to the nurses to let you home on your own. But they all knew your situation, they all knew Toto and who he was, so they made an exception. You didn’t think they’d call him.

🐺 “Oh my go—, baby, I’m so sorry. Shit. I should’ve been there, I knew you weren’t right when I left, but I had no idea it could be this—“

“Don’t apologise Toto please, it’s not your fault, I just, I can’t wait to see you later. Please try and just do the race and I’ll be here when you get home.”

🐺 “I don’t care about the race Schatz, baby. I’m coming home now. I’m walking to Rosa right now, she’ll get me on the next flight darling. Hold tight for me, ok?”

You didn’t want to ruin his day like this, especially the first race, but you were done fighting with yourself.

“Ok.” - through tears streaming and sniffles of your nose to try and control your breathing, a simple ‘ok’ was the last thing you said to Toto before dropping the phone on the bed. You’d almost been in denial about the whole thing, and saying it all out loud made it more real. You pulled your legs to your chest, your body still screaming in pain from miscarrying, back pains so intense you feel like your spine is on fire and a headache strong enough to make you squint at any view of light.

You could hear the television in the background, the race build up had started and you began watching it hoping it would distract you from everything that was happening in your head at that very moment.

The grid walk started, and Martin Brundle was desperately searching around for Toto to ask him where he thinks the two Mercs’ we’re going to finish today’s race. He eventually came across Shov, who was ready for an interview.

MB: “I was hoping to talk to your boss, any idea where I can find him?”

AS: “He’s had to rush off, personal matter, so won’t be able to watch the race today, but I can answer any questions you may have - just not with as much Austrian flare as he does!” he tried to laugh and distract from the situation- but you knew social media was about to blow up.

A few hours passed, and the sheer emotional state you were in made you fall asleep at some point during the race. You woke up as the podium ceremony started, that damn Dutch national anthem again. You flicked over the channels and started watching some random nature show about birds. Anything but that damn podium.

Anxiously waiting for Toto to arrive, you kept drifting off to sleep, losing track of the time, until you heard a key in the door and footsteps running up the stairs.

“Schatzi, where are you baby? I’m ho—“

The bedroom door swung open and there he was, still dressed in his white button down shirt and black trousers, so damn handsome. Your man was home.

“Toto, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears streaming, you sat up on the bed, trying to adjust your body to a position you weren’t in pain.

“Baby, it’s okay. Come here, little one.” Toto softly sat down in front of you, cupping your face in both hands and softly brushing the tears on your cheeks away with the pad of his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He brought his lips up to your forehead, pressing the most gentle kiss just above your left eyebrow, muffling the words “Let go baby, I’m here now. Just let it all out.”

The reassuring words from Toto meant every single emotion waved over you like a tsunami, and you fell apart in his arms. The tears came streaming down your face as you leant forward into him. You adjusted your body so you were sitting side aways on his lap, legs resting on the bed and head resting in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you like he was protecting the world, his gentle touches making you feel safer than you’d ever felt.

“Let’s get you into bed properly, baby, get you more comfortable.” Without hesitation, Toto stood up with you in his arms as he gently walked around the bed, making sure not to walk into any furniture or make any sudden movements. He slowly leant down, to lay you on his side of the bed. He grabbed a blanket, took his shirt and trousers off, walked round to the other side of the bed and got in with you.

“Are you comfortable? Do you need to move?” He asked as you started rolling over as he got into the bed beside you.

“I can’t get comfy, it’s so frustrating, everything hurts and I can’t move without feeling like I’m making a mess everywhere, it’s horrible.”

“Hey hey baby, it’s okay, don’t cry. It doesn’t matter if there’s mess, we can clean it up, okay? Come here, lay here.” He perched himself up on the headboard, his bare chest gleaming in the night light that was the only light on in the room. The smell of him just felt like home. Lightly tapping his torso, he helped you lay your head on his chest, right on his heart. You moved your arm over his toned tummy, slightly tapping your fingers over the grooves of his muscles.

“There we go baby, you just lay there and relax now. It’s okay, I’ve got you my girl.”

A few minutes of silence passed as Toto gently run his fingers through your hair, up and down your back and over your shoulder.

“Toto?”

“Yes, baby? What is it?”

“We’re never gonna meet her.”

You didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy, but your initial thought was it was a girl. You don’t know why. It’d been playing on your mind all day whenever you caught yourself thinking about what would’ve been, what could’ve been and what should’ve been.

A deep breath came from the pits of his stomach as he saw your heart break in front of him.

“I know darling, I know. But look…” he pointed out towards the night sky, a sky full of stars. A sky so beautiful, that you would’ve thought you’d made it up.

“She’s up there. She knows you’re looking at her. Hey, she’s that really bright one, look” he points to a specific star, that is, quite literally, the brightest one in the sky. “She’s bigger than the whole sky, isn’t she?” he looks down at you, as you’d cocked your head to see the star he was talking about. Making eye contact, one side of his mouth turned into a slight smile, as he leant down to kiss you on the lips. “I love you, little one.”

You kissed him back, finally feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders now he was home.

“I love you too, Papi.”

He smiled down at you again, bringing his hand up to the side of your face and gently guiding your head to lay on his chest. You heard him snuffle, and felt a teardrop on hairline where your hair meets your forehead.

“Toto?” You looked up at him, tears in his eyes as he looked out of the window.

He responded immediately. “It’s okay, baby. I’m okay, I’m just so sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry for not telling you when it happened. I just didn’t want to pull you away from work and—“

“Baby listen to me. You are my world, ok? Nothing is more important than you. I would sail the seven oceans to be with you in a heartbeat. Don’t ever think anything is more important than you, Schatz. I love you so much it hurts.”

He looked down at you again, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair. “You can rest now, baby. Daddy’s got you.”

You closed your eyes and felt your entire body relax into the indentation of his body, and sunk into the bed with him. The soft strokes of his hands over your arms, hair and back brought you more comfort than you’d ever felt before, and the sound of his slow controlled breathing meant your breathing started syncing with his. You both drifted off to sleep, holding each other close. His arms wrapped around you, you laying on his chest.

This was home. He was home. He is your home.

——

#toto wolff #f1 x reader #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fic #daddy wolff #f1 #soft toto for once #soft toto wolff #toto wolff fluff

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hbyrde36 · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter Two

Ch 1 <-

WC: 4574 | R: Explicit | TW: Suicidal ideation, depression | Ch 2/10 | AO3

One week to the day after Eddie Munson narrowly escaped an almost certain death, he woke up from a coma brought on by major blood loss.

Not that he knew that at the time, but later on he’d overhear a few chatty nurses talking about him when they thought he was asleep, and eventually he’d be talked at by a doctor who looked like he’d rather be treating anyone else.

Eddie came to gradually at first, and then all at once, as if the hand on the dial of reality had slipped, going from one, to two, to one hundred without warning, leaving him squinting up into a painfully bright light. His thoughts were syrupy slow, and it felt a little like his limbs weren’t quite attached to his body… or maybe his body wasn’t quite attached to his brain.

Blurry fractured images flashed through his mind. Rows of small sharp teeth, the spokes on a bicycle wheel, blood—so much blood.

Nothing that made any sense.

For a hysterical moment, when his eyes finally managed to adjust, he thought he was in school. The drop ceiling tiles and fluorescent lights reminded him of the classrooms he’d been rotting away in for the last too-fucking-many years. But just when he was starting to wonder how the hell he’d managed to fall asleep on the floor in English class, and why anyone hadn’t woken him up, he finally registered the steady beeping of a heart monitor.

Oh.

Hospital. He was in a hospital.

One realization led to another, and more sounds quickly began to fill his ears. The whoosh and whir of other unseen equipment around him, the heart monitors incessant beeping becoming faster and faster as he took it all in, broadcasting the rate of his heart as it raced inside his chest—a chest housing a dull ache that was becoming sharper and more insistent by the second.

A broken rib. He'd put money on it. It wouldn’t be the first time, but how had he gotten a broken rib?

Eddie swallowed hard, or tried to, anyway, but only managed to choke on the tube he’d only now realized was jammed down his throat. In a panic he went to reach for his face, fully intent on ripping the thing out himself, but he couldn’t move more than a few inches before his wrists caught, the bite of metal into his skin and the clang of handcuffs rattling against the rails of the bed telling him everything he needed to know about his current situation.

Namely, that he was fucked.

It all came back to him in a rush. Chrissy, Vecna, Dustin, the bats.

A face swam into view as he continued to struggle against his bonds, a familiar man looking down at him with concern coloring his features.

“Relax, Munson. You’re gonna hurt yourself. I know it feels like you can’t breathe, but you can. You're okay. Someone will be here any second to get it out, I promise.”

Eddie might not have known it from the face alone, and the guy looked completely different than the last time he’d been busted for speeding, but Eddie’d been chased out of enough house parties to know that voice anywhere.

Former Police Chief Jim Hopper.

Former, because he was dead.

And Eddie, well—the last thing he remembered, he’d been dead too, or in the process of getting there at least. Is that why he was seeing the late chief now?

No, that didn’t make any sense. If he was dead why would he be in the hospital—or handcuffed to the bed for that matter?

So what the hell had happened?

This was literally a nightmare come to life. Worst case scenario shit. To somehow have survived being torn apart by a swarm of demobats, only to end up shackled to his own hospital bed, in a town that hates him and thinks he’s some kind of devil worshiping serial killer.

A nurse in blue scrubs arrived seconds later, just as Hopper had promised, gently removing the tube and shutting off the ventilator while Eddie was still busy trying to wrap his brain around it all. The woman, apparently unfazed by the resurrection of a well-known dead man, attempted to stare the chief down over Eddie’s bed in some kind of silent standoff, but eventually conceded. She gave Hopper a shallow nod before taking one last glance at the various monitors, exiting the room with a quiet, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Eddie tried to speak but the only noise his wrecked vocal cords could produce was a harsh croak. Hopper was right there yet again, bringing the tip of a bendy straw up to Eddie’s mouth without a word. Eddie glared over the cup as he took a sip. The cool water was like heaven and it was only out of sheer spite that he managed not to moan at the feel of it soothing his painfully raw throat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Eddie finally choked out.

The ghost of a smile crossed Hopper's lips. “Do I look dead to you?"

“No, but you do look like shit.”

“Could say the same thing about you, kid.”

Eddie had so many questions, beginning with how was Hopper even there right now? And why?

Was he there to interrogate him about Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick? If so, then why was he being so... nice? Hopper had always been kind-of a dick to him if he was honest, but that was to be expected when you were a small town drug dealer. And Eddie had definitely heard the saying ‘death changes a man’ before, but he didn’t think this was what they meant.

Hopper sighed heavily and dropped down into a chair next to the bed. "How about I talk and you just listen for now?”

Eddie scowled reflexively, but his sore throat was grateful.

"First, if it isn’t obvious, I’m not here in any official capacity. Powell let me in to see you as a personal favor. I don’t think he would have agreed to it under normal circumstances, but coming back from the dead has its perks. Look, we don’t have a lot of time, but I know you didn’t kill that girl, or any of the others. I know all about Henry Creel and the half-baked plan you knuckleheads came up with to go into the Upside Down and kill the bastard.”

Eddie's eyes went wide, it was so far beyond anything he’d been expecting to hear that his brain just short circuited for a second.

"Don’t look so shocked. I know all about the otherworldly dimensional shit, my kid’s the one with the superpowers, though I guess you probably haven't met her yet. So, did I miss anything?"

Something finally clicked, and Eddie felt a little slow for not having figured it out sooner.

He vividly remembered the news reports, and the chief’s picture in the paper. He’d died a hero, rescuing others in the fire at Starcourt. But Eddie knew now that the incident at the mall had been no simple fire. He didn’t really know the details, only that it had to do with all the rest of the weirdness, and he’d definitely overheard Robin make some vague references to Russians.

“Did they?” Eddie asked.

Hopper tilted his head, brow furrowed. “Did they, what?”

“Kill him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, they got him.”

Eddie let out a long breath, nodding mostly to himself.

Good. That was good at least.

"A-and how am I—” he stuttered out, gesturing to the all of himself, wrapped up in bandages, and hooked up to monitors and an IV drip. “How did I get here?"

"You almost didn’t. Steve… he found Dustin sitting with you and they thought—” Hopper trailed off, clearing his throat. “But, he started CPR and somehow they got you out of that place and into the back of an ambulance. Honestly, the whole thing sounds impossible. It’s a miracle you survived."

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat, and the sound of the heart monitor, which had begun to even out as they talked, picked up speed again as the implications sank in.

So he had died, or close enough. It’d been over, curtains, time to pay the riverman and all that, and Steve fucking Harrington had taken it upon himself to reach through the veil and drag him back?

Eddie’s vision swam, the room around him spinning, and suddenly far too bright. He felt like he was going to pass out.

This was not supposed to happen, it was supposed to be over.

Eddie was so lost in his anger at the fucking audacity that he didn’t notice the nurses barging in until they were practically hovering over him.

“What’s going on in here?” One of the new arrivals asked, shooting an accusing glare at Hopper.

“Nothing, we were just talking.”

“Well I’ve got alarms going off in the nurses station that tell me maybe that’s enough talking for today.”

Hopper grit his teeth but didn’t argue, meeting Eddie’s eyes over the nurses heads as they poked and prodded him. "I’m sorry you had to hear it from me, and I'm sorry about the cuffs, but I swear we’ll figure this out and get your name cleared. Just hang in there."

Another week passed, the time going painfully slow now that he was conscious and had absolutely nothing to do, and no way to distract himself from his thoughts.

Apart from a few kind souls, most of the nurses gave him a wide berth, popping in and out, completing their tasks with cold clinical efficiency. The doctors weren’t much better, telling him he was healing well without going into any specifics. They didn’t volunteer any information, and Eddie didn’t ask, only speaking when he absolutely had to.

None of it mattered.

His body may have been healing, but inside Eddie had never been more shattered.

He was increasingly surprised with each day that passed, that no one had shown up to interrogate him yet. He supposed he probably had Hopper to thank for that one, and not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but he was grateful. He wouldn’t have had the first idea what to say anyway, even if it would break up the monotony. No one would believe the truth, and he had no way of knowing what cover story the others might have come up with.

On the seventh day post coma Eddie received his first and second visitors.

First, in a surprising turn of events, was officer Callahan. Who, after a stilted and insincere apology removed Eddie’s handcuffs, informed him that he was no longer a suspect in any of the murders, and rushed right back out the door without waiting for a reply.

Which was fine. Eddie had nothing to say to a man that had allowed him to be hunted down like a fucking animal anyway.

His second visitor, and the one person on the planet that could make Eddie crack a smile despite it all, was his Uncle Wayne.

“My boy,” Wayne spoke softly, leaning over Eddie to draw him into a gentle hug. “For a while there I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I'm sorry,” Eddie said, as Wayne settled himself into the visitor’s chair that had sat empty since the day Hopper left.

He meant it too, even if the apology was woefully inadequate for the amount of worry he’d caused the older man. He might have wished things had turned out differently, but he still didn't like the idea that he’d hurt his uncle. It wasn’t Wayne’s fault that he was so fucked up.

“Wayne, I swear, I didn’t…”

“I know you didn’t, son. I didn't believe it for one second no matter what those two yahoos with badges said.” Wayne scoffed, shaking his head. “Good thing about Hopper though, hmm? I still can’t believe he was working undercover. Imagine faking your own death like that. He really went to bat for you, y’know. Not sure why it was even necessary, mind, what with the injuries you came in here with. It's not hard to believe you were hurt by the same monster who killed those poor kids.”

Eddie’s heart jumped up into his throat. “Monster?”

“They can call him a serial killer all they want, but people can be monsters too. Word’s not only for those things in your dice game.”

Eddie sagged back against his pillows in relief. For a second there he thought someone had told Wayne the truth. Not that the old man couldn’t keep a secret, but he didn't need to be burdened with the brutal reality of what Eddie and the others had faced down. Not now that it was over.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know it’s called Dungeons and Dragons, old man.”

“I admit nothin’,” Wayne chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed himself to his feet.

Eddie threw him a questioning look. Were visiting hours over so soon? Did his uncle have to go back to work already?

"It’s good to have you back, and much as I’d like to keep you all to myself, there’s a lot of other people wanting to see you too if you’re up for it,” Wayne offered in answer.

Eddie blinked up at him. "Huh?"

“What’d you think, Ed, that they’d all just left you here to rot? You’ve got a waiting room full of folks down there who seem to care about you a whole lot. Between 'em all checking in on you and that red-headed girl, those poor nurses at reception haven’t had a moment’s peace.”

Actually he kind of had thought that, to be honest. It was hard not to when he'd been stuck in isolation like this. The red-headed girl could only be Max, and Eddie felt like such an ass. He’d been so busy feeling sorry for himself that he hadn’t considered if anyone else had been hurt.

Something must have shown on his face, because Wayne reached out and took his hand, squeezing. “She’s okay, went home a few days ago. It’s been a little quieter around here since then, until today at least, but I swear that little fella Dustin sleeps here some nights, and Steve hardly ever leaves.”

Dustin he almost understood. They were close. He loved that little shit, and death-bed request or not, he could think of no one better to watch over his sheepies when he was gone, sorry Gare.

But Steve.

Eddie’s jaw tightened just thinking about it.

What was Steve playing at? What right did he have to sit here day after day. Hadn’t he played the white knight enough to boost his own ego, or asswage whatever misplaced guilt or whatever the fuck had made him think Eddie needed, or deserved, or even wanted saving?

He’d spent the entirety of the last week sinking further and further into himself, drowning in despair, self-pity, hopelessness. Finding out he was no longer a suspected murderer had done very little to make him feel better. He was still stuck here in this shithole of a town, in his shithole life, with even less prospects for the future than before.

He’d be a high school dropout now, because let’s face it, even if Higgins would be willing to let him repeat his senior year for a fourth time, Eddie was done. Surely all these days he was missing would push him over the edge. Those hard fought D’s becoming F’s in the blink of an eye. There was no point in trying anyway. Diploma or not, no one would hire him now. Hopper might have gotten him off the official hook, but Eddie knew how the world worked. Memory for hate was long and though he was innocent, though he would never spend a day in jail, the god-fearing people of Hawkins would always treat him like a murderer.

That was the life Steve had condemned him to by interfering, by taking away his only way out, and Eddie was so fucking angry. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive the other boy for what he’d done.

He wouldn’t have minded seeing Dustin. He probably owed the kid an apology for bleeding out in his arms and maybe causing him a lifetime's worth of trauma, but didn’t know how he’d manage that without the others tagging along.

“I don’t know, Wayne. I’m pretty tired,” Eddie said eventually, and didn’t even have to fake a yawn. This was the most excitement he’d had since he woke up, and he was still on a lot of drugs that made his bones feel heavy and his eyelids droop.

His uncle gave a sympathetic nod, releasing his hold on Eddie’s hand. “That’s okay, I’ll just go tell them you’re not up to it right now. They’re used to waiting around anyway, maybe later we can—”

“Can’t you just tell them all to go home?!” Eddie snapped, cutting him off. Instantly feeling terrible for raising his voice at the last person in the world who deserved it.

Wayne’s eyebrows flew up. “But… Ed, they’re your friends, aren’t they? They’ve been worried about you. I’m sure they’d like to see with their own eyes that you’re—”

Eddie looked away, dropping his gaze to stare down at the place where his IV disappeared into his skin as if he was suddenly fascinated with it.

“Listen, I don’t know the half of what you’ve been through, but I’m not stupid,” Wayne went on with a sigh. He rounded the bed, perching himself near the end of it where the rail was down. “I know it’s not as simple as that story Hopper’s pushing out. And those kids down there? They’ve seen some things, and I got a hunch that you have too. Don’t push 'em away now. You’re gonna need each other to get through this.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie said softly, still not looking up, eyes burning with unshed tears desperately trying to escape.

“Ed.”

“I’m sorry. I just—I can’t see them, okay?” The first tear rolled down Eddie’s cheek, hanging on to the end of his chin for a moment before splashing down on his chest, absorbed instantly into the thin material of his hospital gown. He didn’t even know why he was crying.

“Maybe after I get out of here, but for now, I—” Eddie cleared his throat roughly, but still couldn't force the rest of the words out.

“Alright, son. It’s alright.“ Wayne patted his leg and stood, making his way over to the door. “I doubt they’ll listen, but I’ll try and convince them to go on home.”

Wayne visited every day until Eddie was discharged about another week later. If anyone else continued to hang around the waiting room day-in and day-out, his uncle didn’t mention it, and Eddie didn’t ask.

The broken rib would still hurt like a bitch for at least a few more weeks, but his stitches had all been removed, and his wounds were healing nicely, or so he was told.

The wounds that could be seen anyway.

He’d have one hell of a scar on his stomach, among others, and one side of his mouth would always pull a little funny when he smiled, but he would make a full recovery. The doctors sent him home with nothing more than instructions on keeping the various areas clean and a mild prescription.

Read: non-narcotic.

He supposed he’d have to find some other way to try and numb himself then.

The trailer was new, a bit bigger, and boasted two whole bedrooms so at least neither of them would have to sleep in the living room anymore. Their old home had been taken into custody by some “shady government types”, according to Wayne, but he’d salvaged as much of their belongings as he could before they’d hauled it away.

Eddie's new room looked almost identical to his old, if a little cleaner and sadly lacking his sweetheart hanging in her place of honor on the wall, lost to the Upside Down.

It must have taken hours, days even, for the old man to get it set up like this and Eddie knew he should have been grateful—should be thanking his uncle profusely for this and everything else he’d done for him since the moment Eddie had been dropped on his doorstep.

But he didn’t feel grateful.

He didn’t feel much of anything, and prayed it would stay that way.

“How’s he doing?”

Eddie woke to the sound of voices speaking quietly nearby. He must have fallen asleep in front of the TV again. He remembered finishing the last drops of cheap vodka from the bottle, stashing it under the couch cushions before blacking out at some point during a rerun of The Twilight Zone.

He remained still. Too tired to move anyway and not wanting whoever was there talking to his uncle to know he was awake.

“I don’t know, Chief, “ Wayne whispered, the obvious worry in his voice making Eddie’s stomach roll, or maybe that was the hangover. “He won’t talk to me, hardly leaves that couch. I got these kids calling day and night and he won’t talk to them either, flat out refuses to come to the phone. He’s drinking—a lot I think. I don't even know where it’s coming from. He must be running out when I’m asleep, or maybe he’s getting it from someone here in the park. I’m sure he thinks I don’t know, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, Wayne. What he’s been through, it’s…” Hopper trailed off, blowing out a soft breath. “Maybe he just needs some time.”

“Yea, maybe,” Wayne agreed, but not like he believed it.

“I did want to check on you both,” Hopper went on. “But that isn’t the only reason I stopped by.”

“I had a feeling.”

“I’m trying my best to get the story out there, to let the community know Eddie is innocent, and now that I've been reinstated I can promise he won’t get any trouble from my guys—” Hopper hesitated. His voice sounded muffled, and it wasn’t hard for Eddie to imagine him rubbing at his face with tired hands.

“But?” Wayne prompted.

“But, public opinion is hard to sway. There’s been a lot of… pushback. It’ll die down eventually, and I’ll see if there’s anything more I can do, but it might be best for him to keep laying low for a while.”

“I hear ya.”

“You call me if you run into any problems around here or in town. Either of you.” Hopper said.

There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps coming closer, as if the two men were walking towards the front door. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe even as he continued to pretend to be asleep.

“Thanks, Jim, and thanks for helping my boy.”

The door creaked as it opened, and a bit of sobering fresh air blew gently over Eddie’s sweaty face.

“If even half of what I hear is true, he’s a good kid. I’m sorry if I gave him a hard time before.”

Wayne chuckled softly. “Not like he didn’t deserve it.”

There was silence in the air for a beat, and Eddie thought maybe Wayne had gone outside with the chief, until Hopper spoke again, his tone solemn. “He doesn’t deserve this though.”

“No,” Wayne breathed, “no he doesn't.”

A few days after Hopper’s surprise visit, Eddie finally took one of Dustin’s calls.

He wasn’t exactly feeling any better about things, but he was tired of the looks Wayne was giving him whenever he refused to come to the phone. He didn’t know what the look was exactly. There was definitely disapproval in the set of the old man’s jaw, but his face also carried worry, sadness—even pity.

It wasn’t a great combination.

Eddie had also smoked the last joint from his own stash, drank himself out of booze, and ran out of cash to buy more. He couldn’t afford so much as a six pack.

He was growing restless, bored, and with no way to medicate himself he was no longer immune to the crushing guilt that had been steadily building since he’d refused visitors at the hospital.

“Eddie?”

“Hey, Henderson.”

Eddie braced himself, expecting to get shit for almost dying and then falling off the face of the earth, but Dustin was—careful.

“H-how are you?” The kid asked.

Eddie pulled the receiver away from his face and let his head thunk against the wall, thinking he’d have preferred getting yelled at.

“Oh, y’know… getting there. Healing, day by day, all that jazz. I’m—I’m alright.”

God, he sounded like an idiot.

Dustin let out a whoosh of air on the other end of the phone. “Good, that’s–that’s good. It’s really great to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, you too, man.” Eddie smiled to himself, and even though this entire thing was making his skin crawl a little bit, he found that he really meant it. “Listen, Dustin, I'm sorry about everything, and going MIA like that. It wasn’t fair to you.”

There was a beat of silence in Eddie’s ear, a muffled sniffle.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Dustin said finally, his voice a little thick and nasally.

“Yeah, me too.”

Which couldn’t have been further from the truth, but the kid didn’t need to know that.

There was a rustling noise in Eddie’s ear, and something like a horn, but was probably the kid blowing his nose. And Dustin sounded a little more like his usual self when he spoke again. “So, I know how tired you’ve been, but—”

“What?” Eddie asked, dumbly.

“You’re usually sleeping when I call, so I just thought—”

“Yeah—yes, right.”

Not the most graceful save, but spending days on end drinking, only to be suddenly involuntarily sober had left Eddie’s brain feeling like cotton candy.

“Well, now that you’re feeling better, I thought we could finally have our, we saved the world, party.”

“You say that like it’s a thing. Is that a normal thing you-all do?”

“Of course! You gotta celebrate your victories.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please? Will’s back in town too. We have so much to fill you in on! I was thinking maybe we could even play a quick one-shot now that we’re all back together. Steve wouldn’t mind if we took over his dining room table. He might even watch!”

Well, that answered the question of where this godforsaken event might be occurring.

Eddie remembered Dustin, Mike, and Lucas all raving about Will the Wise, and in another life he’d have been thrilled to finally meet the kid and play, but for one thing, he was in no condition to run a campaign yet—or maybe ever again.

And for two…

Steve.

“Absolutely not.”

“Eddieeeee,” Dustin drew his name out, long and whiny.

“No.”

There was no way Eddie was voluntarily getting within a five mile radius of Harrington or his stupidly big house.

“Come on, forget the game then. Just say you’ll come to Steve’s on Friday.”

“I’m sorry, but the answer is—”

“Please?” Dustin begged, his voice taking on a watery quality again. “I really need to see you.”

And fuck, how was Eddie supposed to say no to that? He should have never picked up the phone.

“Alright, fine. Tell me what time this shindig is and I’ll be there.”

Chapter 3

Thanks and love to @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all your help and encouragement with this.

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#Sad/Angst with a HAPPY ending #steddie fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #tw depression #tw sui ideation #cw depression #cw sui ideation

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