#my mother was right when she helped me push for top surgery when i did bc she was certain theyd cut trans healthcare at any minute

[squimbz]

it's slowly becoming illegal to be trans in the US & if I think too hard about that I get physically sick with anxiety & guess who has to go to the airport in less than 4 hours and is making themselves sick with anxiety about the MASSIVE WAVE OF ANTI TRANS LEGISLATION IN THEIR OWN COUNTRY!!!

#my mother was right when she helped me push for top surgery when i did bc she was certain theyd cut trans healthcare at any minute #hostile environment! evil country! #personal #anyways. who needs sleep when you can have transphobia induced insomnia.

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Title: “Secrets will be told” SERIES PART 6 FINAL PART

Need a Refresher? Here are the previous parts!

Part 1      

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne (from the show Gotham) and Female reader. BOTH BRUCE AND READER WILL BE 26-28 in this part.

Warnings: None; I did not proofread; I quickly skimmed through

Summary of series: Bruce Wayne was captivated when he met Y/N, and the feeling was mutual. Dating turned into being engaged and engaged to married. They knew each other’s secrets and told each other everything; they confided in one another. But once Y/N follows Bruce back to Gotham, he begins to change... He becomes secretive, is he having an affair? Y/N needs to find out the truth.

The sound of beeping made me open my eyes. I frantically looked around, and tubes were in my nose, and the heart rate monitor was beeping quickly. “Y/N, sweetie, please calm down..” My mom’s hands held mine, and I turned to look at her. 

I could feel a burning sensation in my hand, and I held my hand in front of my face. The palm of my hand was wrapped in a bandage, and the doctor walked in. “It’s about time you woke up, Mrs. Wayne. You’ve been asleep for three days now; we were starting to get worried.” he said, as he looked down at his clipboard.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” he asked and I leaned back into the pillows behind me. “I-I was kidnapped... By Jeremiah Valeska, and I was saved by..by...” I started to remember last night.

“Stay standing. Don’t pass out. Just focus on me.” he said, and I shook my head. “Please, just tell Bruce I love him. Tell him, I’m not mad. Don’t let him blame himself for.. for.. th-this.”

My lungs were burning, and it felt like they could no longer hold any air.  My legs began to shake, and before my eyes closed, I heard the batman say: “I love you too...” 

“It’s okay, we don’t need to go over everything right now. But I am advising you go to therapy when we get you home. What you went through was traumatic, and I think it would be a great help..” he said, and then he cleared his throat. “But let’s discuss what is currently wrong. Your oxygen levels were extremely low from breathing in all of the chemicals. Your hand-” he lifted up my hand and unwrapped it.

My hand was red and blistered, “You will have a permanent scar on you right hand.” I lifted my hand up and the chemical burn was in the shape of a “J”.  Of course, that bastard had to leave his mark.

The doctor grabbed my hand and wrapped it with a clean bandage. “But there are some corrective surgeries that can fix it. I can get something scheduled if you would like.” he said, and I shook my head.

“Where’s my husband? Where’s Bruce?” I asked, and my mom stood up. “He went home to take a shower. He will be back soon.” Her thumb massaged the top of my hand, and I sighed.

 “Why did you go to Metropolis?” my mother asked.

“I can’t remember. I’m sorry.” I said, as she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m just so happy that you are going to be okay.” she whispered. 

The doctor picked up his clipboard, “Alright Mrs. Wayne. Your hand is all good to go. Now, I must advise you to get some rest. And if everything is good by tonight, I will consider letting you go home early.” he said before walking out of the door.

My mother and I sat there talking about her and my father’s recent trip, until she had to go home to clean up broken glass. I sat there staring at the bandage wrapped around my right hand. I began to unwrap the bandage and hissed at the stinging pain that shot through my entire arm. 

I stared at the raw, blistered skin. Of course, he left his mark on me. I started to cry at the site of it; I felt disgusting. I could still feel his lingering touch on my bottom lip, and the way he stared at me. I was supposed to be dead. Never has anyone wanted me dead, and I hoped that they put Jeremiah away. Because now, this felt like a game that was not going to end in my favor. 

A knock on my hospital room door tore my gaze away from my hand. Bruce stood there with a bouquet of roses. I wiped the tears from my face, and he quickly made his way over to me. “Y/N, I am so sorry about what happened. I wanted to be here when you woke up, but your mom made me go home and clean up.” he said.

He watched where my gaze went, and he looked down at my hand. “Let me wrap that up so it doesn’t get infected.” he said as he grabbed the bandages that were on the bedside table. I stared at him as he bandaged my hand, and he finally looked up at me. “We need to talk when we get home.” he said quietly, and I nodded. 

“About the divorce?” I asked, and he looked down at his hands. “If that is what you want, then yes. But I would really like for you to reconsider those divorce papers.” He spoke.

“Why would I do that?” I asked, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“We will talk about this when we get you home.” he said, and he stood up from his chair. “Right now, I’m going to let you rest.” 

An hour after Bruce had left, I had fallen asleep. 

“I want to be able to control your pain and how fast you die.” Jeremiah hissed as he dragged a knife that had the residue from the chemical down my arm. 

“Stop! Please, stop!” I cried out, and all he could do was laugh in my face. 

Slowly, he dragged the knife down my cheek, “I hate having to scar your pretty little face. Maybe if Bruce doesn’t want you after this, I will give you a chance. After all, you will look just...like....me.”

I felt a hand shake my shoulder and all I could do was scream “No! Please, get off of me!” Bruce’s hand pulled back from me. 

“Y/N, it’s just me. It’s just me.” he said, and I jumped into his arms. “Please don’t let him get me, Bruce.” I cried out, and his hand cupped the back of my head. He pulled me closer to him, “He’s not coming back, Y/N. It’s over. Jeremiah is dead.” 

I pulled away from Bruce’s chest, “He-He’s dead? Are you sure?” I asked and Bruce nodded. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

When we had gotten back to Wayne Manor, Alfred was smiling. “It is so good to have you back, Mrs. Wayne. Want me to fix you something to eat or drink?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

Bruce gave Alfred a small smile, “I think we need some time to talk, if you don’t mind Alfred.” 

Alfred handed Bruce something, but I didn’t see what it was. Bruce picked up my uninjured hand and led me to his study. “I know I said I can explain everything, but I think it would be easier if I just show you.” 

I watched him walk over to his desk and grab a remote, and he clicked a button, and a loud sound made the room tremble. I took a step back as the fireplace retracted into the wall, revealing a dark hallway with stairs. Bruce picked up my left hand and led me down the dark staircase. “Um.. This isn’t the part where you are actually going to murder me, right?” I asked and Bruce smiled.

“You watch way too much crime shows, Y/N.” he continued to lead me down the never-ending staircase, but a bright LED light was shining at the end of the hallway. He turned to face me, “Before we go any further, please let me explain and answer your questions. And if you still want a divorce after seeing all of this, I understand.”

I followed him into the blinding light, and after my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I gasped. A group of computers almost took up one entire wall, and a big black military looking car was on the opposite side. But Bruce led me to a glass case, and once we got close enough, I stopped dead in my tracks. 

It was the Batman suit. Bruce opened the case, and I pressed my left hand up against the chest of the suit. Memories of being carried out of Ace Chemicals replayed in my mind. 

When he spoke that night, his last words to me were “I love you too.” Those words were not spoken in the Batman’s voice, but in Bruce’s voice. The scars on Bruce’s back, the late nights of him not being home, and this is the reason why he bulked up. Bruce Wayne, my husband, is the Batman. 

I turned to Bruce with tears in my eyes, “It was you. You are the Batman?” 

Bruce nodded his head as tears ran down his cheeks. “I had to retaliate, Y/N. When I heard Jeremiah escaped Gotham, I couldn’t be a sitting duck anymore. It wasn’t just me anymore, I had to protect you.” he said.

“And that woman in your office? Who is she?” I questioned and Bruce sighed. “That woman was Selina Kyle. She was warning me about Jeremiah. She heard that he was coming for me, but she didn’t know when. But instead, he went for you.” he explained. 

“We have been friends for a very long time, Y/N. Nothing is or ever will go on between her and myself. She is the reason Jeremiah will never come for us again.” he whispered, and I lunged into Bruce’s arms.

“I was so scared that I was going to die, Bruce.” I cried into his chest. “But the last thing I thought of before I passed out, was you. And when I looked into the Batman’s eyes, I should have known they were yours.” 

Bruce’s arms tightened around me, “I can’t lie to you, Y/N, but things are not going to be easy. Now that you know I am Batman, this is going to make you a target.” he said as he pulled away from me and held my face in his hands. “I can’t give up being Batman now. Gotham needs me more than ever, and if you want to leave me, I won’t hold it against you.” 

“Because I will never forgive myself if something were to happen to you. A part of me knows I should have left you in the dark, and I should have signed those divorce papers.” he said as a tear slipped from his eye. “But another part of me, the selfish part of me, doesn’t want to lose you. I love you, Y/N. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. However, I will respect the decision that you make.” Bruce said as he pressed his forehead against mine. 

I took in a deep breath, “I don’t want a divorce, Bruce. I really don’t. But please, don’t keep any secrets from me.” I said quietly, and Bruce picked me up off of the ground. “No more secrets.” he said before pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“Mrs. Wayne, you are going to need these.” he said as he pulled my engagement ring and wedding band out of his pocket. Bruce slipped them onto my ring finger. 

A few weeks later, I was able to remove the bandage from my hand. This was the first time in weeks I had seen my bare hand. As I removed the bandage, I saw the dark red ‘J’ scar that would be a permanent mark. 

Bruce came into the bathroom and leaned against the door frame, “Are you alright?” he asked, and I closed my hand. “Yeah. I’m just trying to get used to this ugly scar.” I say and he wrapped his arms around me. 

“It won’t always be red. It should somewhat fade.” he said as opened my hand. He looked at the scar and sighed. “If I could have been there sooner.” he whispered, and I cupped his cheek. “Don’t go down that route, Bruce. I am just thankful you showed up when you did. Otherwise, things could have gotten worse.” 

He wrapped his arms around me, and I took in his scent. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, and Bruce nodded. “Will you train me, Bruce?” I asked and he pulled away from me. 

“Train you? For what?” 

“I don’t want to be that girl that was locked in a glass room, about to be murdered, Bruce. I don’t want to be the girl that is left with a scar as a reminder that I cannot protect myself.” I said and he tore his gaze away from me. “Please, Bruce?”

He stood there staring at the wall, and finally he answered. “Okay. You’re right. You need to be able to protect yourself. I will train you, but it’s not going to be easy.” 

That night, when we left “the batcave” after he told me was Batman, our lives had changed forever. I had to share the love of my life with everyone else in Gotham; they got the Dark Knight, and I got Bruce Wayne. The person I fell in love with at Princeton. 

He trained me just like he promised he would. Hell, I was so good at fighting that I was now known as the “Black Widow”. I fought right alongside my husband, helping keep the streets of Gotham safe.  

Then we adopted our first son, then our second, and then our third. Then Bruce found out he had a love child from before we met in college. And then we had a set of twins of our own. As a family, we had a pact, and that was never keep a secret. Because Secrets will always be told. 

----

I know, cheesy ending. But I hope you guys enjoyed this little mini-series. I had fun writing it, and at times it was challenging, but definitely worth it. Thank you to the readers who stuck it out until the very end of this series! 

(Also, I couldn’t figure out a superhero name. So I went with Black Widow, I mean, I always can picture Bruce with a Black Widow!Reader. I do not own the rights to Batman/Bruce Wayne, or the characters mentioned. I only own the story line. Nor do I own the rights to the hero name Black Widow).

XOXO

TAGLIST: @rl800 @auspicious-lilana @theclassicvinyldragon 

@moon-shampoo

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #gotham fox #Gotham TV #Gotham #Selina Kyle

[silvfyre-writings]

I love you for you (BSD Fanfic)

Soooooo, hiiiii. Welcome to a fic I have been sitting on for a while now because I wasn't sure on whether to post it or not. But then I shared it with a friend and they enjoyed it, which gave me the confidence to post it (thank you friend <3). Even as I'm writing this, I am nervous and unsure, but I'm pushing through to just share something relatable for all the period buddies out there that suffer when shark week/mother nature/monthlies comes around.

Now, I am not trans, but I am non-binary, so idk, I have some idea of the process of transitioning because I got asked all the questions when I started my top surgery process, so Ranpo's experience is based upon that mostly. Ranpo's feelings on the other hand, are entirely based upon my own experiences, so any negativity can be taken right back out the door, thank you.

But yes, anyways, enjoy some ranpoe comfort!

Cramps were a bitch.

This was something that Ranpo had long since learnt, long before he’d started his transition, and long before he’d found himself living with Fukuzawa. The moment he’d first woken up with bloodstained sheets when he was eleven years old, he’d known exactly what was happening and hated it, but the blood was the easy part to deal with. What wasn’t easy were the agonizing cramps that came with his periods; constant waves of pain that spread through his entire body, sapping his strength and his sanity. Aside from the dysphoria that always came along on that first day—because periods did nothing but remind him of what he was not—the issues surrounding his gender identity always faded into the background whenever the cramps came along. He was just in too much pain to focus on anything else at the time. And because he’d grown up in a small village with his parents, where his neighbours still insisted on calling him she, there wasn’t much to do but curl up into a ball and hope for the best.

But then his parents had died, and he’d left everything he’d ever known behind to go to Yokohama. What for, he wasn’t exactly sure, but all he knew was that a friend of his father’s resided in the big city and that was all he needed to know.

Going to Yokohama had been both the best and worst part of his life; the best because he could finally introduce himself as who he felt he truly was without anyone questioning him so long as he flattened his chest and wore masculine clothing, but also the worst because he no longer had easy access to the products that those of his birth gender needed whenever his periods came along. His only consolation was that the uniform of the police academy was black, and that the principal—the friend of his father—knew about his situation, so the man had been kind enough to supply him with what he needed, when he’d needed them.

But then he’d wound up on the streets after getting kicked out, and the next months were actual hell.

Ranpo had grown quite adept at sneaking down to the river in the early hours of the morning in order to wash his clothes whenever his period snuck up on him—he always tried his best to track it like he’d been taught to by his mother, but when you lived on the streets, you didn’t tend to remember what the date was. It also didn’t help that the stress of his living situation made it impossible to predict when it would even happen in the first place; most of the time, Ranpo would wake up with bloodstained thighs and stiff clothing, and that was how he knew his period had started. He’d also become pretty good at stealing, as much as it pained him to do so in the first place, but he really needed the supplies, so it wasn’t like he had any other choice. Not unless he wanted to bleed through his clothes every time. And it was simple, really; all he had to do was find a store filled with people, wander the aisles for a while, sneak what he needed into his satchel, wander about some more before finally leaving with his hands hanging by his side and a determined look.

It worked every time.

But he still felt like the worst person on earth when he had to do it.

And then he met Fukuzawa, and Ranpo found his entire world thrown into turmoil, with everything he thought he knew, tossed around like a tornado had just come through his mind. In less than a day, Fukuzawa had given him a roof over his head, as much food as he wanted, whenever he wanted, and also a job. But there’d been something else that he’d given Ranpo, something truly important; pure acceptance. Ranpo had almost panicked, when his period first made its appearance, and Fukuzawa had caught him in the dead of the night, washing bloodstained sheets in the bathtub. They had stared at each other for some time, but instead of scolding, or judging him, Fukuzawa had helped him wash his sheets, and told him to take a shower before disappearing for some time. He’d spent the entire time in the shower terrified and stressed, waiting to be accused of being a liar about who he truly was, or that he was a freak of nature, but none of that happened; Fukuzawa simply returned, placed a packet of pads on the bathroom counter, along with some painkillers, and then left like nothing had happened.

Ranpo had spent the rest of the night confused, and rightfully so, because no one in his life had ever just… accepted him as he was without asking questions.

Of course, the next day had brought about the most awkward conversation of Ranpo’s life, because he’d never been particularly comfortable about talking about himself, but… in the end it had turned out well. He and Fukuzawa had spoken at length about what Ranpo was going through, his identity, his feelings, the way his body was changing, all things that Ranpo knew, but also hadn’t, because his mother had taught him like he’d been a girl, and not the boy that he was. But then Fukuzawa had gone on to tell Ranpo about options he’d never heard of, and how to obtain some of those options. Ranpo had been stunned; it was one thing to put on masculine clothing and tell everyone he was a boy when his body physically told everyone he was not, but to learn that he could actually change that, actually become who it was that he wanted to be, and finally be comfortable in his own skin, it was hard not to be excited.

So, Fukuzawa had found a doctor for him—after many tears of relief and joy had been shed—one that had worked with people like Ranpo before and knew how to talk to him, and Ranpo’s transition begun. It had been a long and confusing process; there’d been a lot of things that Ranpo hadn’t known about or hadn’t quite understood, and there were also a lot of roadblocks and speedbumps that he’d needed to navigate around. Because he was underweight at the time, he’d needed to put on some weight before the doctor felt comfortable prescribing Ranpo any kind of medication, and that had been a battle, because Ranpo and food had never been friends, and there’d been many a night where he’d lain in Fukuzawa’s arms, crying, because he couldn’t finish the dinner that’d been cooked for him.

But he’d done it, the changes to his body brought about by puberty were slowed from the blockers he was allowed to take.

The next roadblock had been his chest, because he had to be an adult for anyone to even consider removing the two lumps of fat on his chest, and, well, Ranpo had naturally had a breakdown over it. It truly felt like the world had been against him in that moment, because so far, nothing had gone smoothly, and having his journey be delayed for years had been the final nail in the coffin. Sure, there were binders, and Fukuzawa had kindly bought him some after they’d been told the news, but it hadn’t stopped his mental health from crashing and sending him into depression.

He would forever be grateful to Fukuzawa, who had continued to love and support Ranpo, even in his darkest moments, throughout the years until he’d turned twenty and finally been allowed to pursue surgery.

And for the first time since he was a child, Ranpo finally felt that he could be himself.

“Nngh.” Ranpo groaned as he, once again, changed positions in the bed because of the agonizing pain that was rippling across his abdomen, just like it had been for the past hour. He’d gone to bed early that day, well before his usual time after feeling off for the entire day, only to wake up after a measly hour of sleep, with his body aching and his stomach metaphorically stabbing itself. It’d been so painful that all he could do was curl up into a ball and do his best not to disturb the other occupant of the bed. He’d long given up any attempt at getting anymore sleep; now he only wanted to find that one position that would bring him the relief he was after. But so far, he’d had no luck, and he was starting to give up on ever finding it.

One would think, after being on puberty blockers, and later, testosterone, for so many years, that he would finally be free from the jaws of periods and the god awful cramps that came with them, but no, he wasn’t that lucky it seemed. They didn’t happen often, usually only two or three times a year, and never for more than three days, but they always seemed to hurt so much more than he remembered; almost as if his body was mad that he had rejected it and changed it into what he wanted.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was, Ranpo was in pain because his internal organs were currently attempting to murder him, and he wanted to do nothing but curl up into a ball and cry. Because pain and hormones. But he couldn’t, because he had an insomniac for a boyfriend that was currently in the bed with him, finally sleeping peacefully and Ranpo wasn’t going to be the reason that Poe didn’t get any sleep that night. He was amazed though, that he hadn’t woken Poe up yet since Poe was usually the worlds lightest sleeper—seriously, Ranpo had shut the door behind him once a little harder than normal and that had woken Poe up—but that was just further testament to how little Poe had been sleeping.

But yes, keeping still usually helped to ease the cramping, but this time it was doing nothing, and no amount of tossing and turning seemed to fix it.

At this point, the sun would rise before Ranpo could find a comfortable position.

He let out another groan as a wave of sharp, shooting pain washed over him, spreading from his abdomen out towards his back, his hips, and even his elbows—which really, should not be allowed in such a situation as this, because it was just so unfair—and he couldn’t stop himself from curling into a tight ball this time, a whimper escaping him before he could stop it, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

“Ranpo-kun?” Poe’s sleepy voice echoed through the night, and Ranpo froze where he lay, breathing slowly to try and convince his partner he was actually asleep. But then his emotions betrayed him and a quiet sob escaped him. He felt the bed dip as Poe shifted, and an arm came to drape itself over his waist, and Ranpo let out a relieved sigh, the heat of Poe’s skin against his own so, so welcome, and he didn’t want it to leave. He felt Poe bury his nose into the back of Ranpo’s neck. “What’s wrong?”

And even though he knew that Poe wouldn’t believe him, especially since the man had been worried when Ranpo had announced he was going to bed early, he was still going to try and placate Poe into trying to get some more sleep; his partner had had only a few hours of sleep over the last few days, and Ranpo refused to be the reason that Poe didn’t get a good night’s sleep. “I’m fine.”

He felt Poe frown against his skin. “Sorry, love, but I don’t believe you. You’ve been restless for some time now.”

“Oh… I didn’t—” Ranpo swallowed, stress stopping his words from coming. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Ranpo-kun. I’ve been on and off sleeping for a little bit now.” Poe soothed, kissing the back of Ranpo’s neck. Ranpo sighed and uncurled from his ball a little, slowly as to not aggravate his angry organs that had finally calmed down a little. He wanted to roll over so that he could talk to Poe face to face like he preferred, but he didn’t dare move, just in case it made things worse.

“Is everything alright, my dear?” Poe asked, and when Ranpo didn’t respond, he shuffled closer, slotting his legs between Ranpo’s own, and spreading his hand across his stomach in order to pull Ranpo close to him, and Ranpo could’ve cried from how nice it felt. The warmth of Poe’s palm was in just the right spot to chase away a little bit of the ache, and just the feeling of Poe holding him flush against his own skin was enough for Ranpo to be able to focus less on the pain, and more on other things—like Poe’s beating heart against his back. It was comfortable and it made him feel loved, and Ranpo never wanted it to end; he wished he could always be held like this by Poe, because it was just… perfect.

Ranpo closed his eyes, the vestiges of sleep that had eluded him for hours now, creeping back towards him and offering the sweet release of sleep, when he felt Poe stiffen, and that hand against his stomach stray in the direction of their legs and oh god, he’d forgotten about the bleeding part of periods. He stiffened, but for an entirely different reason, one that was familiar and unwanted; fear. He’d never told Poe about himself, had never needed to, and had most certainly never expected to. Until now.

“Ranpo-kun, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m sorry.” Was all that Ranpo said, his voice shaky as he croaked out the words, because what else could he say when he’d just bled all over himself and Poe’s sheets, and potentially Poe himself? Nothing, that’s what. All he could do was apologize and pray that Poe wouldn’t be mad at him. But he would understand if Poe was mad.

Poe sucked in a breath the moment Ranpo apologized, and he found the warmth fading as Poe pulled away and climbed out of bed, and Ranpo, forgetting about his pain momentarily, frantically reached out for Poe as he realized just what it was his partner was planning to do. But he wasn’t fast enough, and Ranpo quickly hid under the blankets as light bathed the room. Ranpo listened closely, as no sound came from Poe until his partner finally began to move about the room, even leaving it for a few minutes, and he had to wonder just what it was that his partner was doing. It didn’t take all that long for his curiosity to overcome his shame, and he poked his head out just as Poe sat on the bed again, and their eyes met.

“Oh.” Poe said, surprised; his eyes were visible for once, his bangs pinned to the side by a hairclip that Poe had clearly forgotten to remove before crawling into bed. The writer smiled—one of those gentle ones that promised comfort and kindness—and he held a box out towards Ranpo. A box of pads. Ranpo stared at the box for a moment, suddenly reminded of a time long ago when he’d been a teenager, before he took them. Poe stood and threaded his fingers through Ranpo’s messy hair, eyes just gazing upon him softly. “I got in the habit of keeping some on hand because of Lucy and Louisa.”

It was Ranpo’s turn to be surprised. “Oh.”

“I have some painkillers as well, and although I use them for migraines mostly, I think they’ll work for cramps, but I’ll double check the box just to make sure.” Poe continued to say as he began to tug the sheets free from Ranpo’s grasp. “I’ll get those for you, and change the sheets if you want to take a shower?”

It’s an out, and one that Ranpo was going to take, so he nodded and crawled out of bed, hunched over slightly as he raced to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. His eyes stung as he stripped, throwing his soiled clothing into the corner of the room and turned the shower on as hot as it would go—considering Poe was rich and could afford the best, it was hot—and then collapsed against the shower floor, sobbing into his knees, his emotions getting the better of him even though nothing bad had actually happened. Poe hadn’t judged him, hadn’t asked him questions, or even told him to leave; all Poe had done was help, and here Ranpo was, repaying him by crying on the floor of his shower.

Another reason he hated when this happened. He just became so damn emotional.

The door to the shower opened after a few minutes and Ranpo watched as Poe entered with a fresh pair of clothes in his arms. Poe himself, was wearing just a pair of boxers, and his hair was damp; he must’ve taken a quick shower in the other bathroom, and Ranpo was honestly tempted to ask his partner to join him, if only for the comfort it would bring. But he didn’t, and watched as Poe placed the clothes on the edge of the sink and left, the door clicking shut behind him, and leaving Ranpo alone. Yet, despite being on his own, Poe’s actions left Ranpo feeling loved, and his tears began to slow, but he didn’t get out of the shower until his skin was red and burning.

The clothes that Poe had lent him were his own, soft, and rich, but massive on Ranpo’s own frame, yet very much appreciated all the same. He always liked stealing Poe’s clothes whenever he was at the writer’s home, because Poe had an abundance of soft clothing he’d collected in his time with the Guild, clothing that Ranpo intended to put to good use. Underneath the clothes, a box of painkillers lay, and Ranpo took two before he left the bathroom and made his way back to bed where the old sheets had been replaced with new, fresh ones.

Poe didn’t say anything as his eyes looked over Ranpo, but his brow furrowed when he saw Ranpo’s red and puffy eyes. Poe lifted the blankets and patted the space next to him. “Come here.”

Ranpo didn’t hesitate to crawl underneath the covers, and began to tear up once again as Poe pulled him close, giving him all the warmth and comfort he could possibly want, in just a single embrace. “I’m sorry.” He apologized again, despite not knowing what it was that he was even trying to apologize for.

And as it seemed, neither could Poe. “Whatever for, love?”

Ranpo sniffed, and hid his face into Poe’s bare chest, even though he knew it would make it obvious that he was crying again—as if it wasn’t already obvious. It wasn’t like he was a silent crier. “I don’t know. Bleeding all over everything? Lying to you? Waking you up?”

Poe hummed, and tucked Ranpo’s head under his chin, a hand slowly running itself up and down Ranpo’s back. “You don’t need to apologize for those. Sheets can be washed after all. You never lied to me—”

“I did.”

“You did not.” Poe’s other hand moved to grab at Ranpo’s, giving it a squeeze. “And as for my sleep, well, I’ve never slept particularly well, love. You know that. If anything, sleeping with you helps me sleep better.”

“I don’t understand.” Ranpo hunched in on himself as best he could with Poe’s arms around him, tears running down his cheeks. “How can you just… accept this?”

Poe hummed again, and a thumb wiped away the tears on his face. “I think this is a conversation best had when you aren’t feeling so overwhelmed, my dear. But if it helps you feel even the tiniest bit better, why wouldn’t I accept it? I love you for you, Ranpo-kun, and that’s that. Even if you bleed and cry from the cramps, I still love you.”

Those words caused Ranpo to cry even more, although he’s smiling now, and through his tears, he can hear Poe starting to sniff, and he can feel a few tears drip onto his head. He laughed through his own tears. “Why are you crying.”

“Because you are hurting right now, in more ways than one, and I tend to cry when you hurt and all I can do is hold you through it. It’s a fault of mine.” Poe chuckled, raising a hand to wipe away his own tears this time.

Ranpo laughed again, and brought one of his own hands up to cup Poe’s cheek, brushing away a stray tear. “Thank you, Poe-kun, for helping and accepting.”

“Always, Ranpo-kun, always.”

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd fanfic #ranpoe #edogawa ranpo #edgar allan poe #trans ranpo #hurt/comfort #comfort #writing #fanfiction

[boy-gender]

It’s the 3 year anniversary of my top surgery this month!! During pride month even!!

I wanted to I guess just talk about what happened to me? Give a story about a top surgery from start to finish for people looking to pursue top surgery to learn from? It’s gonna be long so, under the cut.

So I got top surgery in june 2020, right smack dab in the early-middle of the pandemic lockdowns. Nobody was allowed to be with me in the hospital or even visit me, and I couldn’t have my cellphone. The night before my fiance slept over to keep me calm, and also we had to leave at 4am because I was going to be the very first surgery of the day. I have cats, and he got a cat hair in his eye causing a massive allergic reaction. We had to extract it but his eye was so messed up that day he couldn’t drive, so I ended up taking him home and my mother in law brought me to the hospital. It was pretty lonely not being able to have him with me or communicate with anyone, and I was terrified I would get covid just from being in the hospital, but luckily I didn’t.

I showed up, checked in, and got situated in a prep area pretty quickly. They tell you to take your underwear off because sometimes people piss themselves while under anaesthesia, which I didn’t know and was horrified by the thought of. Sure you can go play around in my chest cavity but if I peed? I would have flatlined of embarassment on the table. At the end they don’t tell you if you peed or shit yourself or anything so at least if I did I will never have to know about it. In the prep area my surgeon drew on me with a marker to show what was getting taken away and what was going where. I was having a bilateral mastectomy with liposuction on the sides to remove sideboob, and I didn’t want my nipples back, which made her job easier. Within an hour they wheeled me in, told me to count back from 10, someone said goodnight to me and then I was gone.

Several hours later I woke up crying and sweating and insanely hot. I could barely speak, and a nurse was yelling at me because I wouldn’t stay awake. Apparently I had woken up and gone back to sleep several times, but I don’t remember any of that. I must have been able to communicate that I was hot because someone was feeding me ice cubes, but they wouldn’t take the blankets off me and I couldn’t move to push them away. I felt like a helpless child. It was awful. Powerful drugs, man.

My surgeon came in 10 minutes later to check on me after she finished cleaning up, saw how miserable I was, ripped the blanket off me, and yelled at the nurses for not listening to me. It was the first time a doctor had ever taken my side in something and defended me. I will always be eternally grateful for that. They transferred me to a bed, told me not to move around too much because of my drains, and gave me a landline to call home. It was somehow the afternoon, and I think I passed out again.

When I woke up it was evening and they said they were going to keep me over night because I had experienced some sleep apnea under anesthesia- it’s where you briefly stop breathing in your sleep and then start again/irregular breathing. They wanted to make sure if it happened again that they were right there, and also that I would stay on the oxygen tube in my nose. They also gave me this breathalyzer thing that you breathe into and it measures how much breath you breathe. They had me play with it every hour or so to help regain the strength in my lungs.

They (the nurses) also, expressly against my wishes, gave me opioids. I have violent moodswings on heavy painkillers (I got oxy for my wisdom teeth extraction...that was a nightmare). I warned them of this, I said I only wanted tylenol and I would deal with the pain (I wasn’t in any pain, I was just tired). They gave it to me anyways and lo and behold I had violently suicidal moodswings. Thank fuck I was bedbound and couldn’t move. I called my fiance repeatedly throughout the night rapidly shuffling between suicidal and manic. In the off time I was stuck watching 90 day fiancee. It was the only tv channel available.

The next morning I ignored most of the advice they gave me, getting up to go to the bathroom on my own and walking around the hospital floor just to show them that I could. They weren’t going to let me leave until I peed and could ambulate on me own, so as soon as I was awake I did laps just to get them to discharge me. My surgeon okayed it, though I think she was surprised and concerned at the voracity with which I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to stay and have them drug me again.

I went home- it was a Wednesday- and my poor fiance was such a trooper. He picked me up in a car full of stuffed animals for me to cuddle and took me back to my parents house, got me settled, got me a smoothie from mcdonalds. I think we scared the person at the drive thru because I was a haggard corpse in bandages with suction cups of bodily fluids hanging at my sides. Oh well. That week my fiance had started a new job two hours away from our homes and had to commute back and forth, leaving early as fuck to go to work and then coming back to take care of me at night. He moved into our new apartment that Saturday without me (I couldn’t be transported) and with the help of our dear friends. That week sucked.

During the day my mom helped me. Made me food, got me drinks, helped me change my drains, helped me clean myself. I’m lucky we have a bath tub- I was able to sit in a few inches of water and very carefully wash myself without getting my bandages wet. I have autism; my two most prominent symptoms are that I can’t regulate my temperature and always run too hot, and I cannot stand the texture of sweat, being sweaty, or being hot. I constantly have to wash my face and hands like a little raccoon or I go nuts. I would not have survived going a week without showering in some form.

The drains were weird but not painful- you can’t feel them inside you. Everything is so swollen and nerve-damaged you don’t really feel much initially. You have to sleep on your back sitting up though, which sucks for us side sleepers. Invest in a neck pillow is my advice. I slept in my recliner/rocking chair.

I pushed to have my drains removed early, and after a week they were out. While at the appointment I touched a cactus in the lobby and got needles stuck inside me, which my surgeon delightedly told me “nobody has ever been stupid enough to do before.” She enjoyed it. My finger hurt lmao. She took the drains out and I was afraid I’d feel them moving under my skin but I didn’t- all I felt was a gush of warm liquid, like my armpit had pissed itself. Turns out one of my drains was clogged and that was my fluid shooting out all over me, the chair, and my doctor. She said it happens. Unlike patients touching the cactus.

After that I had no more follow up appointments and was on my own. You aren’t supposed to lift your arms over your head or carry heavy things for several weeks, but I ignored that after the two week or so mark. I don’t care about having stretched scars- I have so many scars over my body it doesn’t make a difference. Then I moved to the new apartment with my fiance, healed for a few months, endured the lightning strike shooting pains of my nerves reattaching for the first half year, and found to my amusement that I could still “feel” my nipples but that the spot that felt like nipple would move around from day to day as my nerves misfired. This is still true and still funny to me.

And that’s pretty much it. I had no complications, though because of the lipo and no nipples my scars are large and unusual and almost bisect my torso. My plans are to continue strengthening my chest wall and get the whole thing tattooed, which is why I didn’t want nipples again. They’re in the way of the tattoo design. It’s gonna be a vampire castle with bats flying out in front of a full moon, and a spooky forest below the cliffs.

#top surgery #double mastectomy

[strangecoded]

Gender is not Therapy

Gender isn't supposed to be therapized, right? Like, I mean, I know people go to therapy to help figure it out, and like, get approval for gender reassignment surgery. But... I just????

I had this friend who told me once, when I was still in the very beginning of figuring things out, that "It made sense [I] was genderfluid because of [my] childhood."

Contextually: the only sibling close to me in age is an older sister who when we played pretend always made me play the boy. On top of this, my dad would always teasingly say "Yes, Sir!" when either of us scolded him. (Getting into my mom's cakes or pies before they were ready, sneaking around into chocolates when he couldn't have them, pretending to hide toys behind his back when we were super small, doing something wrong, making up silly parodies on the fly) I got called sir a lot. I was a child that scolded a lot.

But at the same time, those moments with my dad were irregular. I found myself alone a lot, regularly ignored and forgotten. Lots of siblings, have always had the sister from before and two or three more living with us at a time. When I was very young, we lived in my grandmother's house. And she... did not like me. I don't really know why.

She wanted a girly-girl for a granddaughter, and treated my sister like one. My sister, who preferred being a tomboy, being outside, getting dirty, HATED dresses. I was in every way her opposite. Loved pretty dresses, playing inside with dolls, looking pretty. Ironic that she always wanted me to play the boy then, isn't it? At that point in time, my dad was a trucker, so he was hardly home, and when he was it was clear who his favorite daughter was because she would eagerly do things he wanted to and I would drag my feet or cry on camping trips or car rides or, later, going out to the shooting range. He ended up getting a job after he quit trucking that led to me seeing him for only a few hours a couple days a week; my sister and I would go to school while he was still sleeping, and he'd go to work a couple hours before we got out, and wouldn't get home until we were getting into bed. He had a similar sleep schedule on his days off.

This is to say, he wasn't around home to mediate anything that happened regarding his mother, my grandmother. I was relegated to a second thought, a requirement that didn't need anything to be half as good as my sister's but still done so my dad didn't hear about it. And this... wasn't just from my grandmother. This was from my older brothers, too. The youngest of them 11 years older than me, and none of them willing to play dolls or dress up but encouraging my sister when she wanted to skateboard or play rough.

Disallowed from experiencing those things, I ended up pushing all ideas of femineity away for a long time, up into high school. Avoided dresses, never learned how to do my makeup or hair, wore simple, comfortable things. Told myself it was because it was what I wanted. I wanted to be invisible, I wanted people to ignore me, I wanted to plain, ugly clothes because pretty things were so uncomfortable, because they were more useful, because I was fat already and none of the pretty things were going to fit me anyway so why bother trying to hunt for it? The only remotely feminine thing about me was long hair, but it was always messy because I treated curls like my hair was straight. (spoiler: nothing about me is straight) But I pushed away anything and everything that made me... a girl. I existed in a vat of nothingness.

At least, that's what I was told.

I was told "It made sense [I] was genderfluid because of [my] childhood." without that friend blinking, because of those reasons. She knew all of that, had been there for a good chunk. She went off on a long rant, as well, pointing out all the above points, rehashing my life for me. Therapizing my identity. But that's... not how it works, is it? Gender isn't... a trauma response.

I lived under a religious rock, so I learned about nonbinary people in late high school. And I started questioning. I discovered I like being called "Sir" more than I like being called "Ma'am." I embraced freeing myself of "girl" or "woman" and found joy in skirts and dresses and nail polish and lipstick and fucking pink. But mostly when I think about gender, it's not a clear, immediate answer. It usually comes to the conclusion of "eh" because I don't... know? Or maybe I just don't care. Haven't... figured that part out yet.

💜

I'm done trauma dumping now. Guess that's that for this week's "What the fuck's up with my gender?"

#genderstrange #gender is weird #gender is confusing #gender exploration #gender identity #genderfluid #questioning #lgbtq community #neglect #childhood trauma #emotional neglect #improper therapy

[holycrimin]

It hurts to love.

Karl heisenberg x male!reader

Tags: Hanahaki and angst

SFW

(Note: In this au, none of the main events happen with ethan, as he is not in this story. Also SPOILER WARNING.)

(Warning: probably shitty plot, but i'm trying my best ok)

[Your pov]

It all started a year or two ago, when mother miranda had found me lurking around the village. As i was not a local, she deemed me suspicous. However, before she had the chance to kill me, She had a spark in her eye. As if she had an idea. And before i knew it she was using me as some sort of vessel for her daughter, Eva. Although i am a male, she had seen something special in me apparently. I had also found out that her daughter had passed away and she was determined to bring her back.

It failed.

The experiment... failed.

I was no longer deemed useful.

She had proposed me two options. become a servant or assistant to one of the lords, or die. A slow, and painful death.

Of course I chose to be an assistant.

She was kind enough to let me choose who to work for, thankfully.

Lady dimitrescu was very much intimidating. And from what I've heard, if you mess up even just a little while working for her, you will be sent to the dungeons. Never to be seen again. And she isnt really fond of men, so I wont be choosing her.

Next up was Donna Beneviento. She was nice, although her doll 'Angie' is a little... how do I say this... creepy. It doesnt help that i have a huge fear of mannequins and dolls, so I dont think i'll be choosing her anytime soon.

And then theres Salvatore Moreau, dont get me wrong he's a great guy but.. he might accidentally drown me. I might be overreacting, but the guy smells. Although, I feel bad that he's treated so poorly by the other Lords, but i think it's for the best if i stay away from him.

And.. i guess my only option left is Lord Heisenberg. I just hope that he wont be that much of a hassle, even if he IS kind of an asshole...

A day before i start working at the factory, Mother Miranda forced us to spend the day together. To 'get to know eachother' I assume.

Lord Heisenberg looked pissed off, he wasn't really fond of me. He was more pissed off at Mother miranda though. Most likely because he was forced to spend time with me. I quickly learned what he called the 'basics of him'. Basically, common facts. Such as, the fact that he can bend metal and his deep hatred for Mother Miranda. that was basically all that he told me.

The following day was my first day at the factory. As we were walking along the factory, he stopped in his tracks. "Listen pup, there's rules." He practically growled. "First of all, Don't touch my shit. Second of all, don't go around the factory without me knowing. And third of all, Don't try to get to know me, we're keeping a proffessional relationship, got it?" He said.

"Uh.. y-yes Lord Heisenberg." I very nervously stammered, lightly blushing at the nickname he gave me.

"Good, now let's get to work."

Present day

That was around a year or two ago, and while i have gotten closer to the other lords, i never managed to get to get close to Lord Heisenberg. And..

I'm an idiot who fell for him... And... I know he'll never feel the same way. I've tried getting his attention, impressing him, but... nothing's working. Every time i try to get close to him, wether it's emotionally or physically. I get pushed away, literally and figuratively.

It's my fault really. I fell inlove with a man who was emotionally closed off. His charisma, his voice, everything about him just makes me fall more and more inlove with him.

I know i wont have a chance, hell, i dont even know if he's into guys... Guess i really am an idiot, huh?

Later that day, Lord Heisenberg asked me to help him with something. I agreed of course, and during that time I tried to know him more. "Jesus christ, are you trying to get me to open up or something? Cause' that's not gonna happen, so give it up." He spat out, "a-ah... sorry Lord Heisenberg.." I stammered out.

A few minutes of silence pass. Suddenly, he grabbed my hands. "I- ugh.. Just- you're doing it wrong. Here, let me help." He said, while holding my hands 'teaching me how to do it right'.

Of course my face started heating up, the feeling of his slightly roughed up hands on mine... it feels nice. Although this is probably the only time i'll ever get close to him.

"Hey pet, you ok? Geez, you're practically as red as a tomato." He said, while still holding my hands. "Uh.. y-yeah..! Uhm... i.. i'm good.." i stuttered, feeling his breath on top of my head. He was bigger and taller than me after all.

"Well, whatever you say, pup." He shrugged as he continued his work. I got a little flustered on the nickname, i never got used to that..

After, he went and ordered me to get supplies fron the duke.

As i was walking along the pathway to the duke, a few lycans were following me. They didnt seem to be attacking, so i just left them alone. However when i reached the duke, the lycans were gone. How strange.

"Well well well, if it isn't Heisenbergs pet! What brings you here, young man?" He says, with a shit eating grin. "Ah.. well, i'm just here for some supplies is al-" i was then cut off with a series of coughs, "Oh my, are you alright?" said the duke, genuinely concerned. "O-oh i'm fine i ju-" i was then cut off by another series of coughs, but just when i stopped, a small white flower petal came out of my mouth.

"Oh dear, i hope this isn't what i think it is... Are you sure you are alright?" Asked the duke. "I.. i dont know," i pause and look at the small flower petal in my hand. "do you know what's happening..?" I questioned him, very much confused. "It may be something called the 'Hanahaki disease'. It was said to just be an urban legend. Where, if you were suffering from unrequited love, you would begin to cough up flower petals." He explained. "I didnt think it was real.." he muttered to himself.

"..." i was silent as i stared in shock and horror, I'm.. coughing up flowers..? Like actual, real flowers...?

From.. unrequited love.... i should've known, i... i should've known that he would never feel the same way.

How could i be so stupid, to think he would fall for a mere mortal like me. Or atleast.. i think i'm mortal. "Well," the duke spoke up, "luckily there are two ways you can get rid of the sickness." My eyes lit up, "the person you like, either loves you back," he continued "or, you can get surgery. Not only will it remove the flowers, it also removes all of your feelings for this particullar person permanently."

"Th-that's great! I can finally get this 'hanahaki' disease while also getting rid of my feelings for him-!"

"Him?" The duke asked as he cut me off, "do you mean Lord Heisenberg?"

"Uh-" as i think about him, i start coughing again. This time, blood was spilling over. And so were many petals. "Oh dear.. so just the mere thought of him triggers it..?" He said, concerned. "Uh... i'll just... take the supplies. Thank you though, duke."

"No problem, stay safe. But remember, the longer you wait around with the flowers still inside you, the worse your state will become." He informs me,

"I'll try to get the surgery as fast as possible duke." I said, waving him goodbye.

As soon as i walked out, those same lycans followed me all the way back to the factory. Strange isn't it? Anyway, when you finally arrived at the factory, supplies in hand, I hear Lord Heisenberg open up the door.

"Here, let me help you with those." He says as he starts taking some of the bags.

"...Why are you being so nice all of a su-sudden?" I stammer as i try to hold in a cough. "Would you rather not have me nice, pup?" he growled. As i opened my mouth to speak, i was interrupted but a fit of coughs. Blood spilt out as did the petals. Heisenberg didn't seem to notice as he was already far ahead.

I try to cover it up as much as i can as i try to catch up with him. "Jeez.. Finally, you caught up-" he cut himself off. "Why is there blood on your face?" He said, slightly concerned. I froze. "Uh.." that was all i could say. "Whatever.." he said as he wiped the blood away from my face. A faint blush spread accross my cheeks.

I excused myself to the bathroom as i felt another fit of coughs. More blood splattered out as well as more petals. God it hurts. I heard a knock on the door. "Hey pet, you've been there a while, you sure you're alright?" He said

"Uh- yeah, i-i'm fine..!" I said, trying to hold in my coughs. "Well just make it quick, we have work to do." "Yes sir..!" I reply back quickly, not wanting to upset him. I quickly cleaned myself up and walked out of the bathroom. "Took you long enough." He sighed, annoyed. He went ahead and grabbed his hammer, dragging it along the metal floors. It was loud enough for him to not hear you cough up more petals.

~later that week~

My condition kept getting worse and worse, to the point i was barely able to breath. I've consulted the duke, however nothing seemed to work. No matter how much medicine, herbs or other medicinal items i jammed into my body, it just won't go away.

I was asked to come over Lady Dimitrescus castle, i'm not exactly sure why. Maybe she heard of this 'hanahaki' disease?

As i make my way to the castle, lycans started to follow me. Even more than before, why was this happening?

I finally arrive at the castle, the lycans seem to be watching me very carefully. I hear the doors open, and out came a tall lady. "Ah, Y/N! I'm glad you came! Come in." She said, holding the door open for me.

I walked in and was immediately tackled with a hug. "Uncle Y/N! You came!" Exclamed Daniela, one of Lady Dimitrescus daughters. "Oh, uh... hello Daniela." I say, hugging back. I never imagined them to warm up to me. "Now now Daniela, me and your Uncle Y/N have something to discuss."

"Aww man... well, i'll see you around Uncle Y/N!" She waved goodbye to me. "I'll see you around, Daniela." I say as i wave back. As soon as her footsteps were no longer in range, i spoke up. "So.. what did you want to talk about..?" I carefully asked the tall woman, not wanting to be sliced to bits. "Well, as i said before, the duke has informed me of something related to your wellbeing."

"So... you've heard about this.. 'hanahaki' disease, i assume...?" I say as i tense up even more. "The duke told me about it, and when i asked why he was informing me about this, he simply stated it had something to do with you. So tell me, do you have it?" She asked me with a concerned expression.

"W-well.. I-.." i say, sighing. "Yes, as far as i know." I reply, not wanting to lie to her. "As much as i dislike that wretched man, Heisenberg, i must ask, is he the object of your affection?" I froze. "Well... uh-" i cut myself off as i break into a fit of coughs growing more and more violent than the last. "Oh dear- MAIDS!" She called out, panicking, as blood and petals fall out of my mouth. She patted my back as i continue to cough. "So... it is Heisenberg.. I am terribly sorry Y/N i did not know this would happen.." she said, apologetically.

"I-it's alright-" i break into another fit of coughs. But instead of petals, this time, there were fully grown flowers. "i.. i can't b-breath.." i say almost blacking out. The last thing i see and hear are the maids, Lady Dimitrescu shouting to get the duke, and the door opening to reveal... Lord Heisenberg..? "Goddammit, out of my way-!" Was the last thing i heard before blacking out.

•

•

°

.

.....

I woke up to the duke. I sat upright, "what... happ-" i was then cut off by the duke. "You're awake! Honestly, i.. didnt know if you would wake up.." he said sadly. "Thankfully, i was able to patch you up just fine. And after days and hours of research, i finally found an alternative to your hanahaki!" The duke said, switching from a sad, to a cheerful mood.

My eyes light up, "W-wait, really!?" I said as a smile creeps up on my face. The duke gives me a small bottle, "Here, take this. Free of charge!" He said as he smiles brightly. "Now, you should drink it as soon as possible. Lord Heisenberg is waiting for you outside."

"I will, thank you duke!" I said as i waved him goodbye. As I walked to the gates, I take the small bottle and drink it. Within seconds, the flowers were gone. I could finally breath again!

Walking out with a small smile, I saw Lord Heisenberg. "Oh, hey-!.. uh.. i mean, hey. You're awake, lets... get back to the factory..." he stammered out.

..

Was it just me, or were there tears on his face..?

The walk to the factory was silent, but as we walk up to the factory gates, he stops dead in his tracks. "Before we go in, I just uh.. wanted to let you know that the duke let me know about how you really felt about me." He said. "And.. after a long time of thinking about it.." he cuts himself off as his cheeks turn red,

"...I like you too." He confesses.

But,

I don't feel any different.

I don't have butterflies in my stomach.

I don't even feel my face heating up.

It was like...

I was never inlove with him in the first place.

"I... I'm sorry, Lord Heisenberg... but.. I dont feel the same way anymore. I think... it was that small bottle the duke gave me, but.. I am sorry, i don't feel the same way." "W-wait.. you're.. you're joking, right...?" I watch as his expression goes from flustered to heartbreak. "..." i grow silent.

"Let's... let's get inside... we'll catch a cold if we don't." I say, opening the doors to the factory, not wanting the situation to get more awkward. "...Y... yeah... just, gimme a minute.." he says as his voice was slightly shaking. "Alright.. just... please be quick, you'll get a cold." I said, walking in and closing the door on him.

[Heisenbergs pov]

"I... I'm sorry, Lord Heisenberg... but.. I dont feel the same way anymore. I think... it was that small bottle the duke gave me, but.. I am sorry, i don't feel the same way."

"W-wait.. you're.. you're joking, right...?" I say with my voice slightly shaking. Dammit.. god... fucking...

DAMMIT...!

Just when i thought i finally found the love of my life, he's stripped away from me.

"..." he was silent.

I could feel the heartbreak slowly filling me up.

"Let's... let's get inside... we'll catch a cold if we don't."

"...Y... yeah... just, gimme a minute.." i stammer while i try not to break down infront of him.

"Alright.. just... please be quick, you'll get a cold." He says, as he walks in and shuts the door. Heh.. it's cute how he still worries about me when..

Nevermind.

I need some time to thi-

My thoughts were interrupted when i started to violently cough. What i didn't expect though...

Was a flower petal.

"..."

"Heh..."

"So this is what he felt." I said, as i look at the bloody flower petal in my hand.

#karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x male reader #heisenberg x reader #angst #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #assistant

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 29 - Miracles and Endings [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Oh my goodness, the last chapter before the epilogue! ❤ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback my loves, I hope you will like it! ❤ Ilysm! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, death, mentions of sex, drinking.

Word Count: 4600

Summary: Sometimes, miracles happen.

The following weeks were more of a bliss than you were used to. It was like you could finally breathe, finally lose yourself in peace.

You heaved a sigh and snuggled into the soft covers, not ready to leave the pleasant haze of sleep yet but when you felt the empty space beside you, you opened your eyes and sat up straight in bed, looking around.

“Spencer?” you called out and heard the footsteps in the living room. You yawned as you stretched your body, then pushed the covers off of you, grabbed your dressing gown to put it on and made your way to the living room.

You found him by the desk, busy with something you couldn’t see just yet and you cleared your throat, making him jump out of his skin before he pushed whatever he was holding into his satchel.

“Hey,” you said when he turned to you, “What have you got there?”

“Nothing,” he said way too quickly, “Nothing, I- I didn’t hear you wake up.”

“Oh, clearly,” you grinned before you walked to him and pecked him on the lips, “You’re not thinking about bailing on the brunch, are you?”

“I can’t believe we put your family’s brunch and team’s dinner on the same Sunday.”

“Yes but that way, we can do whatever we want the next Sunday,” you pointed out, “Including staying in bed whole day.”

“The whole day?” he mused and you kissed his lips again,

“I mean, I’m sure we can find something to…entertain ourselves.”

“Oh I’m sure,” he wrapped his arms around you, and your phone beeped, making you heave a sigh.

“That’s our cue to get ready, I guess,” you said, “Before my mom barges in here.”

“Does she even know where I live?”

You shot him a look, “Spencer. Come on.”

“Right.”

You reached out to run your fingers through his curls, “So, your last week at BAU,” you said, “How are we feeling?”

“I mean, I’m already teaching most of the time, it was just…formalities at BAU at this point,” he said, “But yeah. Next week will be interesting I guess.”

“A new slate,” you reminded him, “It will be fun. And you know, I will still love you when you’re this old and hot professor, so keep that in mind.”

Even though your joke was supposed to make him laugh, you couldn’t help but notice that look of hesitation on his face.

“You—you do, right?” he asked, and you raised your brows.

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

You blinked a couple of times, then let out a small laugh.

“Oh wow, sex makes you clingy doesn’t it professor?”

“Y/N.”

“No seriously, having to wait for a couple of weeks because of something so trivial-“

“Broken ribs are not trivial,” he corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever. If this is your way of saying last night was mind blowing for you,” you said “So much that it made you forget one very simple fact…”

“Very simple fact, huh?” he repeated with a smile and you nodded.

“Consider this your daily reminder,” you said and stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, “I love you,” you muttered against his lips, kissing him again, “So, so much.”

He pulled you closer to himself, deepening the kiss, his fingertips caressing your neck before you pulled back with a sigh.

“We should get ready,” you told him, “No distractions professor, come on."

                                                   ***

Since the weather was so nice and warm, your mother had decided that you could have the brunch outside. The maid let you in and Lily screeched, then rushed to hug Spencer as soon as she saw you two and he lifted her up.

“Is that a new headband?” he joked and she giggled.

“Yes!” she said “Hi auntie!”

“Hi bug,” you kissed her cheek, “What, you like him better or something?”

“No, but you can’t lift me yet,” she said with her nose in the air, “Mama said it’d hurt you.”

“She does have a point,” Spencer pointed out and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m fine!”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Mina commented from the living room, making Kenzie let out a laugh. Spencer’s phone started ringing as soon as you stepped into the room and he had to put Lily down.

“Excuse me,” he said and made his way to the hallway while Nolan approached you to kiss you on the cheek.

“Hey there,”

“Hey, where’s mom?”

“Upstairs, picking earrings,” he said, “The table isn’t ready yet but if Spencer wants, I have this wonderful coffee, he needs to try it.”

“Why do I get no love today?” you asked to no one in particular and Kenzie smiled before wrapping her arms around you.

“Aw but I love you!” she said, making you grin.

“Only you are going to be in my will, none of these people.” You motioned around the room and Mina scoffed.

“I think I’ll be fine thank you. I’ve seen your wardrobe, I’m not impressed.”

“How dare you?” you gasped, making Lily giggle.

“What’s a will?” she asked and Mina shook her head.

“It’s a grown up document baby.”

“Speaking of grown up documents,” you grinned and turned to Nolan, “Please tell me we won’t have any surprises during brunch. Because me and Spencer have this bet going on—“

“Oh please, he’s not going to ask her here,” Mina said, “It’ll be on top of a mountain or something.”

“Mountains are cold this time of the year.”

“I just want to point out,” you said, “If it is a plan that will take place in near future—Lily, cover your ears baby.”

Lily put her hands over her ears, looking up at you curiously.

“My assistant tried to kill me very recently, so I’m behind my schedule and my client list is full.”

“It’s not full, and you’re not getting out of this that easy.”

“I almost died!”

“Yeah and see, now you have another excuse besides my father is a serial—“

“Can I listen now please?” Lily asked very loudly, making you smile and you nodded so that she could uncover her ears as Mina pulled her to her lap to press a kiss into her hair, fixing her headband.

“Besides, Nolan won’t have something huge, right Nolan?”

“Yeah like… hundred people, maximum.” Nolan stated and you shook your head.

“Unbelievable,” you said, “I’m going outside to get some fresh air.”

You grabbed your cigarette pack from your purse, then made your way to the backyard while the table was still being set, and you lit your cigarette, closing your eyes for a moment, laughing to yourself.

You had already prepared a plan for your mom’s wedding but it didn’t mean you couldn’t whine about it.

You exhaled the smoke, then looked over your shoulder when someone touched the small of your back.

“Hey,” you smiled at Spencer, “Is everything okay?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Uh huh,” he said, “Everything is fine. But um- Luke just called.”

“About tonight’s dinner?”

“No, about um…” he pursed his lips for a moment, “I’m only telling you this because you should hear this from me, not anyone else.”

“Oh God, what happened?” you pressed a hand over your chest, “Spencer, is everyone okay?”

“Yeah!” he said quickly, “Yeah, it’s not like that. It’s just um…”

“What?”

“Lincoln is dead.”

You gawked at him, trying to wrap your mind around it and ignoring the goosebumps on your skin. “I’m sorry?”

“There was an accident,” he said, “Apparently some inmates got into a fight, and while they were closing the doors, there was this glitch so his door didn’t close completely before someone could get into his cell.”

You blinked a couple of times, “A glitch,” you repeated, “What glitch?”

“It’s all automatic, the doors are connected to the security system.”

“What security system?”

He crossed his arms, “I didn’t ask—“

“Yes you did,” you said, “What security system?”

He didn’t even flinch. “Yates Security.”

“You can’t be serious,” you covered your mouth and he shrugged his shoulders, as if it meant nothing.

“These things happen.”

“They don’t just….” you trailed off “That wasn’t an accident, you know it as much as I do!”

“No actually, I don’t,” he said, “I just know that the FBI has no reason to investigate it further.”

You let out a breath, still staring up at him.

“Did you know?” you asked him, “That it would happen?”

“No,” he said, “But even if I knew, I wouldn’t have stopped it.”

You shook your head, “You don’t mean that.”

He let out a bitter laugh, “I do,” he said, “I really do. Hell, I’d help if I knew.”

“Spencer-“

“You don’t think I wanted to do that?” he cut you off, “While we were waiting for you?  I could’ve just gone to his room and make sure it was done. Make sure he wouldn’t wake up again— I was going to do it, Y/N. I stood up to go to his floor, right before a nurse told us that you were out of the surgery.”

You were supposed to feel guilt. You were supposed to feel something, but you knew what he meant. You knew that red haze of anger all too well, that was exactly how you had felt back at the cabin, when Lincoln had mentioned hurting Spencer.

“I… I need to talk to my mom, excuse me,” you said and made your way upstairs to your mother’s bedroom before you opened it.

“Oh welcome honey!” she said, putting her earrings on, “I’ll be right downsta—“

“Lincoln is dead,” you cut her off and she froze only for a moment before she shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, not a huge tragedy.”

“Mom.”

“I doubt anyone will miss that monster.”

“Nolan wouldn’t do it without you asking him,” you shook your head, “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes, then looked at you. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Mom you—“ you lowered your voice, looking around before you took a step towards her, “I never asked you to do that. I would never. Me doing it is one thing, you doing it—“

“Is exactly the same thing,” she finished your sentence for you, “I made my decision while waiting for you to wake up, Y/N. Don’t feel bad about it.”

“I don’t feel bad about it!” you insisted, “That’s not it! But it’s my mess, you guys aren’t supposed to be involved in this—“

“Why did you go with Lincoln again?” she asked you, taking you by surprise, “You and I both know you were more than capable of taking him down. Remind me, why did you follow him to that cabin?”

That was more than enough to make you fall silent before you shifted your weight.

“I thought he had Lily.”

Your mother smiled slightly, “There you go.”

“Mom it’s different though!” you said through your teeth, “You and Mina—you guys don’t have it in you!”

“We all have it in us, Y/N,” she said, “When it comes to protecting the ones we love. I wasn’t going to let him hurt my daughter and get away with it. I don’t care who gets hurt in the process as long as my family survives.”

A silence fell upon you as she heaved a sigh.

“Let’s go downstairs, I’m starving!” she said and pressed a kiss on your cheek, then walked out of the room while you stood there, frozen.

Through the shock, your mind was slowly putting the pieces together.

When your father had threatened Spencer and you unleashed hell on him, that look in his eyes wasn’t just intimidation. It was a familiar fear because he had seen your mother in you, that was why he was shocked that much.

Contrary to everything he had said, you weren’t really his daughter.

You were your mother’s.

                                                     ***

You didn’t feel bad. In fact, you didn’t feel a damn thing about Lincoln’s death to be honest, this dinner with Spencer’s friends was of higher importance than that monster who had tormented you for months.

Prey dies, predator moves on, your father would say.

Or as your mother had said, as long as your family survived…

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked as he pulled over in front of a mansion that he had said belonged to Rossi, and you turned your head.

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

“About Lincoln?”

“Yeah,” you said, “It’s just that… I think I now understand that everyone has some red lines, right? Maybe I’m not that different than the rest. The rest just doesn’t really think about it, that’s all.”

Spencer tilted his head, “So in other words, I was right?”

“I didn’t say that,” you pointed at him as he grabbed the wine bottle and got out of the car with you, “Speaking of death, my mom and Nolan’s wedding will have one hundred guests.”

“Okay?”

“And they will make me plan it and I’ll die.”

“You won’t die.”

“My mom has the fury of ten brides combined,” you grumbled as you both walked to the mansion, “On a good day, if I may add.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I wish I were. Once I showed up to brunch wearing a silver ring,” you said, “She gave me a speech for a whole hour. An hour, Spencer!”

He let out a laugh and rang the doorbell as you shifted your weight, insecurity hitting you out of nowhere.

“Your whole team, you said?”

“And their spouses.”

“So no pressure at all,” you said, making him smile.

“You already know most of them.”

“Yeah but it’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“Well it’s—“ you started, but then the door opened and Garcia squealed at the sight of you two.

“Finally!” she hugged you carefully and then pulled you both into the mansion, “We were wondering where you two were!”

“Can we eat now that they’re here?” Luke called out and Garcia shook her head.

“Unbelievable, honestly,” she said as you followed her to the living room. Everyone was already there, and you greeted them, then Garcia introduced you to Matt’s wife and JJ’s husband before leading you to the kitchen where Rossi was cooking.

You hadn’t really had chance to talk to him a lot during the case, but you guessed it was a good sign that he had allowed Spencer to bring you there, considering everyone in there was either in the team or their spouses.

“Hi,” you smiled at him while Garcia and Luke bickered about food, and the man who was talking to a woman by the corner of the kitchen looked up, then both of them approached you.

“Pretty boy!” he greeted Spencer and Spencer hugged him.

“Hi Derek,” he said with a huge smile, “Savannah.”

“And this must be the girl you kept calling me to get some advice about,” he said and offered his hand, “Derek Morgan.”

“Oh I heard so much about you!” you said as you shook his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Not as much as I heard about you,” he said, “This is my wife, Savannah.”

“Hi,” you shook hands with her as well and Derek grinned.

“So now that you’re here, has he ever told you that he once called me at one in the morning to talk about you?”

You let out a laugh, looking up at Spencer who was rubbing the back of his neck, averting his gaze.

“Aw, that’s so cute,” you said, “What did he say?”

“Don’t.” Spencer shook his head fervently and Savannah raised her brows, then turned to Derek.

“Mmm, does this mean we can’t talk about the time he called me to help him decide which magnet looked better?”

Your jaw dropped, “Wait, what?”

“I suffered for two hours, you guys can’t whine about that!” Luke called out, “I was there with him in that damn shop!”

“I’m begging everyone in this kitchen to tell me more embarrassing stories.”

“Oh how about that time—“ Derek started but Spencer cleared his throat.

“Rossi, we brought wine!” he said loudly as he put the wine on the counter and Rossi tilted his head.

“I’m guessing the lady picked that,” he said and you smiled.

“Spencer mentioned you were making carbonara,” you said, “I um- I visited this small city in Italy couple of years back, and the cook there swore by this.”

Rossi stared at you and Derek let out a laugh,

“Yeah, you won him over just like that.”

“Where was it?”

“Parma.”

Rossi put the towel over his shoulder on the counter, “Please tell me you have tried torta fritta.”

“Are you kidding? I basically lived on that for the whole weekend!” you said and Rossi’s jaw dropped, “Seriously, I ate it for breakfast, and then for lunch with—“

“Rich people,” Luke shook his head as he reached out to get the wine bottle from the counter “But now I want to try it out.”

“Have you learned how to cook carbonara while you were there?” Rossi asked and you shook your head.

“Nah I don’t… I can’t cook. I know how to buy stuff but I don’t know anything about food aside from that.”

Luke frowned, “Your parents never taught you?”

“Not really. My mom taught me how to walk in heels and my dad taught me how to stab someone in the jugular.”

A silence fell upon the kitchen and you shifted your weight.

“Wrong crowd,” you murmured and Spencer pulled you closer to him while Luke shook his head.

“No, now we know that you were raised by wolves.”

“Newbie!” Garcia hissed, making him grin.

“This is why you’re no longer allowed to drive my car, Luke,” you said as Spencer rested his chin on top of your head, “No croissants for you either.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he shot back and Rossi clapped his hands together.

“Dinner is ready, everyone to the living room, come on.”

“Um- Derek, can I talk to you for a moment? And Luke?” Spencer asked and you looked up at him.

“If this is about embarrassing stories, I’m so going to find out.”

“Oh we can tell you,” Savannah motioned between her and Garcia and you grinned.

“Victory.”

“I’ll be right there,” Spencer said and you nodded, then walked to the living room with Rossi, Savannah and Garcia. You took your seat beside Garcia, and JJ frowned.

“Where’s Spencer?”

“Talking to Derek and Luke in the kitchen,” you said while Rossi put generous amounts of pasta in everyone’s plates, and Garcia squeezed your hand.

“I’m so glad you’re okay and here with us now,” she said, “We all are.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, “Thank you,” you said, “It…it means a lot.”

“So, do you want to hear an embarrassing story?” Savannah asked and JJ turned to look at you two.

“We’re exchanging embarrassing stories?”

“About Spencer’s romantic side.”

JJ let out a laugh, “Oh I have a lot of them, if you’re interested.”

“I’m very interested,” you said and Savannah cleared her throat.

“So do I start with the one when he called Derek right before this…ball you were attending? Apparently he panicked because you looked too good and he didn’t know how to talk to you.”

Your jaw dropped, “You’re not serious.”

“He told me to fix his phone while you weren’t texting him, because he thought his phone was broken.” Garcia tipped her glass towards you as if toasting.

“Oh my God.”

“He walked into my desk when Luke was telling Tara about you.” JJ added and you let out a laugh.

“Am I dreaming?” you asked, “I’m begging you, please give me more stories like these, I thought I was the one who was a mess in the beginning.”

“Not at all, you should’ve seen the texts he sent me.”

That reminded you to check your phone, but then you remembered you had left it in the kitchen and you nibbled on your lip before pushing your chair back.

“Excuse me,” you said and approached the kitchen, the voices reaching you now.

“I just…” Spencer heaved a sigh, “I don’t think you understand.”

“I don’t?” Derek asked, “Spencer, you do realize that I went through the same thing, right?”

“I mean I didn’t,” Luke said, “But I still don’t think it’s that difficult, man.”

“See? He doesn’t understand the stress it puts you under, not me.” Derek said and Luke scoffed.

“You guys faced serial killers, that’s what scares you off?”

Ah. They were talking about changing jobs.

Of course Spencer was stressed about it. Derek had already left the BAU and Luke didn’t, and he wanted to get their opinion.

You knocked on the doorframe and cleared your throat before stepping inside.

“Sorry, I left my purse here,” you grabbed it off the counter and Spencer ran his hand through his hair.

“Oh it’s- it’s okay, we were done.”

“I’m starving.” Luke commented and Derek grinned, and both of them walked out of the kitchen, leaving you and Spencer there. He stared at you like he was almost hesitant and you tilted your head.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” you stepped closer to him, “Because you know…changing jobs and all, it might be a little stressful.”

“What?” he asked as if he didn’t understand what you were talking about, then it dawned on him, “Ah no. No, I’m not stressed about that.”

“Then something else?” you asked, “Spencer, you can tell me anything, you know that right?”

He squeezed your hand and pulled you closer to wrap his arms around you, “Yeah, I know.”

“But you won’t,” you said with a smile, reaching out to smooth the lines of worry between his brows and he let out a breath.

“I will,” he said, “It’s just that um… not right now?”

“Okay. That’s alright, whenever you’re ready.”

He nodded, then pressed his lips on top of your head.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your hair and you ran your hand up and down over his arm, then pulled back,

“I love carbonara,” you said, making him laugh. “Come on, dinner is getting cold.”

                                                    ***

By the time you got home, it was already night time. You kicked off your heels and made your way to Spencer’s bedroom to change into an oversized shirt, then whined to yourself when you realized you still had make up on.

Well. That could wait until you checked your email.

Apparently, Kenzie had sent you a list of her colleagues that worked as assistants and you really needed to replace Erica with someone hopefully less tendencies to want you dead. You had left your laptop in the living room so you stretched out and made your way to the living room.

“I wish Kenzie could just decide on someone instead of me,” you said as Spencer took a deep breath, looking for something in his bag “It would make it so much easier. What are you looking for? Maybe I saw it around.”

Spencer looked over his shoulder, the look in his eyes softening almost immediately and a smile pulled at his lips.

“What?” you asked, and he held out his hand.

“Come here,” he said and you took his hand before you let him pull you closer.

“What’s happening, professor?” you giggled as he pushed your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I know, it’s the eyeliner.”

“It really isn’t,” he said and a fire crept under your cheeks, making you scrunch up your nose.

“It’s the oxytocin,” you corrected yourself, making him laugh before he licked his lips and grabbed something from his bag.

“I..I got you something,” he handed you something that looked either like a notebook or a book wrapped in giftwrap and you gasped, snatching it out of his hand.

“Thank you! Can I open it now?”

“Yeah,” he sounded breathless for some reason as he stepped back and you turned around, carefully unwrapping it.

Paradise by Dante.

“Spencer…”

“It’s um- it’s a special edition,” he said from behind you, “You should check out the preface.”

You nodded fervently and opened the cover to see this preface, but Spencer’s handwriting caught your attention, and it took you a second to actually acknowledge what he had written on the page.

Will you marry me?

Your breath got caught in your throat and your heart started pacing in your chest, making you stare at the page for a couple of second with your jaw hanging before you looked over your shoulder, then turned around to see him on one knee, holding the tiny box which had the most gorgeous ring you had ever seen in it.

“Oh my God…” you heard yourself breathe out, tears already filling your eyes, “Yes!”

An almost giddy laughter escaped from his lips, “Can I- can I ask first?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I just— Spencer, how did you afford that ring? Not that it—just let me know if you robbed a bank. I feel like that’s something I might need to know.”

Spencer pulled his brows together, “For a person who specializes in weddings, you’re terrible at this part.”

“Because this part isn’t my specialty- just ask me so that I can say yes.”

He smiled as if he was hypnotized, then nodded.

“I um…” he cleared his throat, “I asked your family first because I know how much it means to you to have their blessing even if you pretend like it doesn’t matter,” he said, “And um- they all gave their blessing. Mina sat me down and threatened me for a full hour before that, but she did in the end.”

Jesus Christ, how had no one told you anything? Not even an implication?

“When we first met,” he said, “That morning, I didn’t… I don’t know what I expected, but not you. It was supposed to be just a case, up until that point it was like any other and then you showed up in that hallway and for a second, just for a second, everything got silent in my head. I wasn’t…I’m not very used to that.”

You bit at your lip, holding your breath.

“And then, when I saw you again you told me something about Dante and Beatrice. You said, he sees her as his savior, his light, his eternal love. Even if they weren’t together. It didn’t make sense before, I’d read Dante multiple times but I didn’t exactly understand the depth of love you could….feel for someone that changes you completely,” he smiled at you sweetly, “I do now.”

You could only stare at him,

“So…” he took a deep breath, “The lady who imparadises my mind. Will you marry me?”

You let out a teary laugh and nodded fervently, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yes,” you managed to say through a sob and he grinned, then stood up to put the ring on your finger, pulling you into a deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

“I love you so much,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes, “God, you’re….this is perfect.”

His smiled widened and you pecked him on the lips again before hugging him tight and you buried your face into his chest, inhaling his scent.

You had been wrong earlier.

You would get to have your own fairytale ending after all. 

Epilogue

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer #reid #twisted

[d-targaryenshoe]

Not So Joyful Suprise • Jackson Avery

word count: 941

Summary: Standing face to face with the people that abused you never end really well does it?

"It's not that big of a deal, Meredith, just write down a speech and then say it." You rolled your eyes as Meredith walked side from the side in the room. "That's all."

Meredith came to a halt, placing her hands on her hips, giving you her familiar glare. "Says the one that's married to an Avery itself."

"Listen, you're possibly winning a Harper Avery, write the speech, stop freaking out." Taking the pen of your coat and a paper from the table, you placed it in her hands. "With this."

"How do I even start? Dear, fellow surgeons?" Meredith furrowed her eyebrows at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'll need tequila for this."

Feeling the familiar buzzing in your lab coat, you knew you were being paged for anything that had to do with medical help.

"Are you leaving?" Meredith asked.

"Mer, I'm being paged."

"That's it. you owe me a bottle of tequila because it's gonna be a big shit show of a speech," Meredith muttered as she already started to stare down at the paper.

Walking down the hallway you came to a halt behind the corner, noticing who was the patient, your mother, sitting down next to your father and brother.

The mother who decided to give you to a foster home when you were 5 and damaged enough after she drank whole day long, used her hands on you what caused bruising, and the whole vocabulary you get with abusive parents.

Rubbing your thumb over your wedding ring, you got all the power together, walking from behind the corner, faking a smile.

"You paged? Since when can't you do an examination by yourself?" You mumbled as you walked past Jackson, pulling on a pair of surgical gloves.

"Since I barely see you because Meredith Grey gets drunk and you have to drive her home," Jackson answered watching you move around in the room. "Since then."

Turning around you walked towards your mom who was laying down on the bed, staring up at the light before you were struck by the smell of booze.

You held your hand before your mouth in disgust by the smell. "A heads up would've been nice, you know?"

"Would it?" Jackson chuckled, leaning against the door frame, crossing his arms.

You shook your head when walking towards the scans that were hung up already. "Look, her nervous system, has a light blockage, next is surgery, Amelia will be happy to, then she'll have to stay for observation, because she's under influence of booze, there you go."

Placing your hands in your lab coat, you started to walk away before you heard footsteps running towards you and a hand on your shoulder.

"What?" You sighed, turning around to notice your husband standing in front of you, staring down at you. "What, Jackson?"

"You're not scrubbing in with Amelia? You okay?" He asked, tilting his head at you in confusion. "If you're not okay, you'd tell me right?"

"I'm not scrubbing in, because I don't want to, that's all, I'm fine." You started to walk away towards the waiting room, sitting down and leaning your head against the wall, closing your eyes.

Minutes turned into hours and hours turned into more hours as something blocked the light before your eyes making you open them.

"Surgery went well, you coming for the post-op?" Jackson asked, holding out his hand before you held out yours, getting up from the chair.

"So she's okay?" You asked, frowning.

"Yeah, Amelia did what she could."

"That's a pity." You mumbled quietly.

Walking into the room, you noticed your father talking to your mother as he stood next to your mother's bed, holding her hand as he wiped his tears. "You'll never know how it feels to have something meaningful, will you?"

"Oh, are we going to start the blaming part? Because trust me I've had enough of that in my foster home." You sarcastically chuckled, releasing Jackson's hand.

"You don't know how good you were cared for, we gave you everythi-" Your father couldn't finish his words before you interrupted him.

"You mean the cigarette burns? Or the punches, no wait there's a better one, the spit of you and her I had to wipe off my face sometimes, because I was just a piece of shit, no?" You snapped, walking up to your dad, almost being chest to chest.

"Honey, he doesn't mean any of that, we- we never wanted to put you in that position." Your mother denied, waving her hands in denial.

"What the two of you mean, literally means shit to me, the only things I want are my husband, my friends, and my stepdaughter, that's all, not you, ever. " You answered, remembering Jackson was still in the room.

"You little-" Your father started, trying to lunge for you but Jackson pushed you behind him.

"You hurt her? Try to get past me first."

You turned around and started to walk out of the room, running your hands over your face, slowly breaking after staying strong for as long as you could. "No- no- no-."

"Was that..–" Jackson started as you turned around and slightly nodded your head.

"Abusive mom, a hell of a dad, jerk of a brother, and the ones who put me in an even worse foster home." You admitted, taking off your lab coat, releasing a sigh. "That's them."

"You know they can't do anything right? Not a single thing, they'll never be able to." Jackson answered, walking towards you, pulling you into an embrace, leaning his chin on top of your head.

"Never?" You mumbled, closing your eyes.

"Never ever."

#greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy x reader #greys anatomy imagines #greys #jackson avery imagine #jackson avery imagines #jackson avery x reader

[beauvibaby]

there won’t be anyone else — t.seguin

a/n: obviously my timeline isn’t going to be accurate, and I know he went back to Canada for a large portion of his recovery but this is what worked… should I do a part 2???

Part two here!

summary: tyler asks his best friend to stay with him and his daughter during his recovery

word count: 5.2k

tagging people who interacted with my post: @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @mandypants95 @fallinallincurls @sidscrosbyy @myhockeyworld87 @lilyhood22 @joeyisourranger @je-ne-regrette-rien @youngbeezer @slimdebrusk

“Y/N?” Tyler spoke nervously, you tore your eyes off of the six month old in your arms, she gurgled in complaint as she grabbed at your face, “what’s up?” You asked him, shushing his daughter as she kept pinching your face. He smiled at the sight of you two, “I have to have a couple of surgeries, big surgeries, and I’m going to need a lot of help with Willow.” He explained, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “do you think you could come stay with us for a while?” He finally asked, you nodded instantly, you’d known Tyler ever since he came to Dallas. Long before he ended up as a single father to little Willow. “Of course, Ty.” You assured him, “anything you guys need.” You added, giving him a soft smile as Willow reached for her daddy. “Hi baby girl.” He grinned, smothering her in kisses, “glad you finally wanted to come back to me.” He teased her, holding her above his head as she giggled, the sight alone melted your heart as she grabbed at his beard the second it was in reach. “When is the surgery?” You asked him, you were fortunate enough to run an online shop, so really, as long as you could bring your supplies to his house, which you knew he’d have no problem with, you’d be set.

“Next week,” he paused, glancing over at you, “in New York.” He rushed his words together. “New York?” You gasped, eyes going a little wide. “You don’t have to come!” He stated, “my mom is going to meet me there, and then she’ll fly with me back here.” He explained, “I’ll be gone for a little over a week, then I can rehab here.” He added, realizing he didn’t explain anything very well. “Are you sure you don’t want us there?” You asked, motioning to Willow who was happily laying on his chest, gurgling away, probably close to taking a nap since she just ate. “I do, I really do, but it’s not worth the hassle, she’ll be happier here.” Tyler sighed, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’ll send you a bunch of pictures and videos of her, promise.” You laughed softly, thinking of how crazy this recovery is going to be for him. “You’re going to do great.” You assured him, seeing the wheels turning in his head, “I’m sure of it, and I’ll do anything I can to help.” You murmured, running a hand through your hair as all he could do was muster up a smile.

***

Day 1.

Tyler’s mom FaceTimed you that night, once he was coherent enough to remember seeing his daughter. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin.” You spoke softly, Willow looking around with wide eyes on your lap, you flipped the camera to show her, “Tyler.” His mom mumbled, handing the phone over, he looked exhausted but the way his eyes lit up when he saw Willow, she’d just had a bath so she was only in a diaper, showing off her chunky little legs. “Hey, Willow, hi baby.” He spoke, she focused in on the phone, rapidly swatting at it as she recognized his face. You giggled, moving her around to be sitting more on your chest, her face next to yours. “Say hi.” You cooed to her, waving her hand for her, she bounced excitedly as he smiled at her.

Day 2.

He was a little grumpy that day, but tried not to show it as he got to see Willow via FaceTime again, you knew he was already tired of being unable to move.

Day 3.

You were talking to him encouragely as he walked for the first time in three days, Willow sleeping in her room, Tyler’s mom held the phone out in front of her. You knew it had to be hard for her as well, to see her son like this, all because he was playing the sport he loved. You took some time to talk to her as the nurses helped Tyler get back in bed.

He didn’t feel up to talking again that day so you were sure to send him photos and videos of Willow, she was finally sitting up on her own without falling over.

The next week went on like that until he was finally coming home, luckily it was right during Willow’s long afternoon nap, so you could help him get settled and get everything in order before his mother had to leave to catch a flight tonight.

***

“Hey, Tyler.” You smiled, opening the car door, greeting him brightly, he tried to mimic your eyes excitement, but you could tell it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Hey.” He mumbled, letting out a soft groan as you helped him get out and onto his feet, he gave his mom a hard time about using the wheelchair, you could see the pain floating in her eyes, just overly worried that he would fall. “I’ve got him, Jackie.” You assured, walking directly beside him as he hobbled with his crutches, she nodded, grabbing the bags out of the car as you helped him get inside the house.

“Thank you.” He sighed, leaning into the couch cushion as you put a pillow under his leg. You just gave him a reassuring smile, his mom dropping the stuff by the entryway, “be easy on her, I know it’s hard for you, but imagine if you saw Willow like this.” You added in a whisper, understanding came across his face as he nodded, motioning for her to sit beside him, you let them have their moment as you grabbed his bags and brought them to the room he’d been staying in, on the first floor for now, until stairs weren’t a questionable decision.

You put the clothes in the laundry, and moved some stuff down to the guest room, humming softly as you did this stuff without question, just doing it to be helpful, not thinking of how much the small gesture would really mean to him.

After a while, you peeked in on Willow and she was still sleeping soundly with her arms above her head, you smiled, carefully shutting the door to the nursery and heading down the stairs with the monitor, Jackie had to get going if she was going to make it to the airport in time. So you both said your goodbyes, and you could tell it was hard for Tyler to let her leave like that, but what was he to do, she has a life to get on with as well.

“How has she been while I was gone?” Tyler asked, looking at Willow on the monitor, his heart clenching in his chest, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girl again. “She was good, Ty.” You giggled, easing his nerves, he nodded, “thank you, so much, I know we just started the recovery process but you’ve already helped so much.” He explained, adjusting himself on the cushions, “you don’t have to keep thanking me, I’m happy to help, I love spending time with her, and you.” He smiled at your words, giving you the side eye as you turned away in embarrassment. You two had always been flirty, but once he came to you and said that was going to be a dad, he changed, he stopped going out, he spent his time at home, and it only made it easier for you to imagine a life with him. “We like spending time with you too.” He whispered, resting his hand on your knee right before Willow started to cry. You could tell he briefly forgot he couldn’t go get her as he went to sit up but then stopped himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her.” You hopped up, excited to see her when she finally got to see him for the first time in over a week, you took the stairs two at a time as you heard her crying get more intense.

As you picked her up, you completely forgot that Tyler had the monitor, and could hear and see you tending to her. “Oh my goodness.” You cooed, scooping her up, “your daddy is so excited to see you.” You grinned, kissing her chubby cheeks, making a brief face of disgust as you got a whiff of her diaper, “let’s get you cleaned up first.” You whispered, grabbing her a new outfit, this one having dealt with a small blowout. You quickly changed her and put her in her little jean shorts and a pink shirt, if it wasn’t for you, you were certain Tyler wouldn’t have anything girly for her to wear. He was watching the whole time as you took care of her like she was your own, his heart swelling in his chest, he’d always had a thing for you, but as he saw you with his baby, it only made him fall harder. And he became determined to make you his by the time he was back to playing.

He turned the monitor off and shimmied himself to be sitting up more properly as you came down the stairs, “who is that, Willow?” You gasped, pointing towards Tyler, she began to bounce in your arms. “It’s daddy.” You grinned at her, walking over to him and allowing him to take her. He breathed out in relief, “I missed you so much, baby girl.” He groaned, hugging her tightly, she pushed on him so she could lean back and look at him, she looked at him with a completely serious face before trying to bite his nose. He broke into a fit of laughter as he moved her away from his face, “that’s not nice princess.” He joked, tickling her sides, she giggled swinging her little legs as he lifted her up. “I swear she grew in a week.” He mumbled, sitting her on his good side, she sat on the couch, chewing on her hands and getting drool everywhere. “And she sits now.” He groaned, dramatically resting his head in the couch, she mimicked him and fell into the cushion. “Crazy girl.” You commented, taking the chance while she was distracted to tie up the top part of her hair, she definitely had his hair and all it did was fall in her eyes. Tyler smirked at you, you rolled your eyes at him, “now she looks like a real little princess.” You quipped to him, he faked a gasp, dramatically hoisting her into his chest. “How dare Y/N say that about my princess.”

It was a lot of extra work, and mess, but you brought her jar of food and bib to the couch so Tyler could feed her, knowing it was one of his favorite times with her as she was so smiley. “Have you ever tried this?” Tyler asked curiously as you sat beside him with her in your lap, she happily ate the spoonful of puréed apples, peas and beets. “Baby food?” You asked with a laugh, he nodded, pushing some more into her gummy smile, she gnawed on the spoon as he tried to take it away. “No, I haven’t.” You answered as you contained your laughter, “I tried it once, I figured it couldn’t be so bad, and it was even worse than bad.” He explained, carefully prying the spoon from her hands, she pouted at him, about to cry until he gave her the last bite and let her chew on the soft rubber spoon. “I’m sure it was.” You snickered, lightly wiping around her mouth, “when’s that first tooth gonna come in? Hmm.” He spoke to her, rubbing her little tummy as she burped, he smiled at her, the love he had for her was something only a father and daughter could share, and it was beautiful as you could see the concern on his face as she began to whimper. You let him take her as you went to get rid of the jar and spoon, coming back with her bottle.

“I just changed her, so she should be good for a while after this, is it alright if I go get some work done?” You asked him, he easily nodded as he laid her back on his chest, holding the bottle up to her lips as she eagerly started sucking on it. “Yeah, of course.” He spoke, not hearing you had already started walking away once he nodded, he smiled as you were tying your hair up sloppily while you walked, something you’d always done when you were getting focused on a project.

He turned on the golf channel, sinking into the couch with Willow as she fell asleep once her bottle was empty, he laid her down in the cushion beside him, boxing her in with a rolled up blanket and leaving his hand resting on her as he himself fell asleep.

***

Tyler had been home for a couple of weeks, physical therapy had been stepping up a lot, which meant he was incredibly sore by the time he got home, and incredibly stubborn. He figured, if he could do it just fine with a doctor walking beside him, there was no reason he couldn’t walk ten feet into the bathroom. Well, he quickly found out he was wrong as he stumbled from a pain in his hip and ended up on his knees, cursing as he couldn’t push himself up. You heard him fall, then the sounds of him cursing to himself and you shot up. “Tyler!” You called, rushing towards his room, he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you rounded the corner. “Hey, hey, are you ok?” You gasped kneeling beside him. He shook his head, slumping against the wall in defeat, “what’s wrong?” You asked, looking over him, trying to make sure he didn’t pull any stitches, or injure himself again. “I just can’t get up.” He muttered, slamming his fist on the wall. “I’m a fucking professional athlete and I can’t stand up on my own!” He snapped, he thought you’d move away at the tone of his voice, but you didn’t, you only moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “I know, Ty. It’s going to be ok.” You whispered, his breathing was ragged as he finally gave in and hugged you back. He calmed down as you just stayed there, letting him hug you as tight as he needed, you pushed his curly mop of hair back once he completely calmed down. “You ready to get back up again?” You whispered, he nodded watching you stand up and give him your hands. “Just push with your good leg, alright.” You gently reminded him, stepping a little sideways to give your feet some traction. “One, two, three.” You pulled on his hands as he slid up, his back against the wall steadying him, he planted both feet on the ground, you quickly grabbed his crutches.

“I’ll just wait until you’re back in bed.” You mumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he nodded, hobbling to the bathroom right outside the room. Your adrenaline high quickly crashed as you waited for him, and you found yourself laying flat on the bed as you waited.

Tyler came back into the room, stopping in the doorway as he saw you stretched out on half of the bed. A smile came over his face as you shifted in your sleep, burying half your face in the pillow, inhaling softly as you felt at peace. He didn’t wake you, he couldn’t bring himself too, so he carefully got into the opposite side of the bed, the thumping in his chest so loud he was certain you could feel it as you subconsciously rolled towards him, resting your hand on his chest as he threw the blanket over you.

Eventually, morning came, and when you woke up in the empty bed, the events of last night came rushing back and you leaped out of bed, not only was Willow crying from her room, but you didn’t see Tyler anywhere, you instantly became worried he’d fallen again and you’d slept right through it. “Y/N?” Tyler called as you went rushing past the kitchen looking for him. “Tyler!” You gasped in relief, placing a hand over your chest as you saw him pouring a cup of coffee. “I thought you fell again, oh my god, where did you sleep? Oh, the baby, let me get the baby!” You rambled heading for the stairs, he chuckled as he listened to you stomp up them, Willow’s crying soon stopping as you picked her up.

He was feeling a little better today, so he managed to get Willow’s morning bottle ready, and some toast for himself, settling himself at the table as you came down the steps. Your hair was tangled in itself, you didn’t have makeup on, and you were in oversized sweats and a tank top, but you’d never looked better to him as you giggled with his daughter on your hip.

You called his name as you walked into the kitchen, spotting him at the table, he didn’t answer, but his eyes were pointed in your direction, “Tyler?” You called again, snapping your fingers. He blinked, “what? Sorry.” Tyler muttered sheepishly, “did you want eggs?” You asked him, eyeing him suspiciously as you maneuvered Willow in your arms to give her her bottle. She happily started drinking it as you propped it up on your cheek, pulling the eggs out of the fridge. “Give her to me.” Tyler chuckled, making grabby hands for her as you struggled to balance everything, you happily gave her over, glancing back as he cooed down to her, whispering a good morning as he kissed her messy head of his hair, they looked so like in that moment, Tyler with his hair sticking all over the place, and Willow with hers pushed to the side from you, with a clip barely holding it back.

“I’m not sure if you’re up to it, or if you want to, but I was going to go to the pumpkin patch later today, if you and Willow want to come?” You offered, “I know you hate having to use that wheelchair but it would be so fun to see her next to all those giant pumpkins.” You raddled on, giving Tyler the chance to admire you, “yeah, that sounds fun.” He answered, smiling when you turned to face him excitedly, “I’m sure you have some cute outfit for her planned out too.” He rolled his eyes jokingly, and you nodded eagerly, of course you did, how could you not, it is her first fall season after all.

“Here ya go.” You mumbled, sliding a plate in front of him, he furrowed his eyebrows, “I never answered about the eggs.” He didn’t argue though, as he picked up his fork and took a bite. “I know, but you’re doing a lot today, you need them.” You giggled, offering a small piece to Willow, now nearly eight months old. She happily mushed it with her couple of teeth, smiling brightly at Tyler, he nodded reassuring her that she was doing good.

Finally you were loading up into the car to go out for a while, Willow dressed in the cutest outfit she had, something you’d bought before she was even born. The belle sleeve onesie just barely still fit her chunky frame, and the red overall skirt over top just made her look even more adorable, and of course, a matching red bow in her hair. Tyler jokingly didn’t approve of how short her skirt was as he took her from you once you arrived, she sat perched on his lap as you pushed the wheelchair down the isles, thankful for the wood boards they had put down as paths in the dirt, Willow was making noises at everything she saw, reaching out to touch the pumpkins every once in a while. “Let me get a picture of you two.” You stopped his chair next to a huge pile of pumpkins, and he stood Willow up on his lap as she grinned at you, it was by far one of your favorite photos of them so far.

An older couple was walking by and smiled at you, “would you like me to take a photo for you?” She asked, and before you could even process her words, Tyler was answering with a yes please. You felt the blood rush to your face as you approached him, he handed Willow to you, and you were about to stand beside him but he gently pulled you to sit on his good leg, you didn’t have time to react, you only smiled for the camera just like he was. “Oh, how beautiful.” The older woman cheered, handing the phone back over to you. “Thanks.” You mumbled, Willow hiding her face in your neck, suddenly shy. You clicked on the picture, and you felt like your chest would explode, you looked like a family, but you weren’t. “Y/N?” Tyler called, you quickly shoved your phone in your pocket, “are you ready to go?” He asked, taking the baby back from you, confusion laced in his tone as he saw the look on your face. “Yeah, Uh, yeah let’s go.” You mumbled, pushing the chair towards the exit, he held in a sigh, trying to figure out what had caused your sudden mood change.

***

“It’s Christmas!” You heard Tyler cheer as he got Willow out of her crib, the nine month old clapping her hands out of his excitement. Tyler was on the upside now, his second surgery complete, and now rehabbing both, he was able to walk without his crutches, he had to go slow on the stairs, but the doctor encouraged him to keep working on them. In a few weeks he’s going to be skating for the first time in months, and you were terrified, meanwhile he was ecstatic, ready to feel like his normal self again. You smiled, keeping your eyes shut as your door opened, “it’s Christmas!” Tyler shouted, putting Willow on the bed and letting her crawl up to your head, mushing on your cheeks, you gasped lifting her up quickly, sending her into a fit of giggles in her reindeer pajamas. “Christmas? Your first one!” You spoke to her, Tyler smiled, sitting beside you. “Merry Christmas.” He whispered, handing you an envelope, he laughed as you put Willow down and quickly pushed yourself to be sitting against the headboard beside him. She made her little baby babble as she played with the bunched up blanket. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” You spoke softly, opening the envelope, revealing a gorgeous Christmas card. “Oh shush, just read it.” You could hear the nerves in his tone, you shot him a smile before letting your eyes run over the extensive writing he’d done.

“Y/N, you have been a godsend in mine and Willow’s life, there isn’t anyone else I would’ve trusted to leave her with during all of this, there isn’t anyone else I’d want to be helping me off the floor at three am. What I’m trying to get at is,

There isn’t anyone else. I don’t think there will be anyone else.

So, if you’d kindly accept my gift, dinner, without Willow, a date, that’s what I’d like to call it.

Love, Tyler.”

“What’s the matter, Seguin? Too afraid to ask me in person?” You quipped, he opened and closed his mouth searching for the right words to say, “is that a yes?” He finally asked, a hopeful look dancing in his eyes. “Of course it’s a yes. I’ve only been waiting months for you to ask.” You giggled, catching him off guard by pecking his lips, it isn’t like you two hadn’t shared kisses before, but it was normally in a drunken state. “Uh-huh.” He hummed pulling you back in for a proper kiss, Willow shrieked, startling you both. She was looking at you angrily, before snuggling up to her dad, as if saying you weren’t allowed near him. “Good job, princess, gotta protect daddy from mean ol’ Y/N.” He murmured to her, earning a glare from you, but as he broke into laughter, you couldn’t even keep up your charades. “Come on, it’s Christmas, she’s got presents to open.” You mumbled, kissing her chubby cheek, “presents!” He cheered, holding her up highly, she giggled as he lunged her back down.

The date had gone as good as you could’ve hoped,

not exactly how he’d planned, but still a great night, the sitter had cancelled, and the restaurant he wanted to take you too didn’t offer a pick up option, so you ended up eating pizza on the living room floor, watching Disney movies, per your request, and talking about everything and anything. And of course, there were lots of stolen kisses.

***

“It’s alright to be a little scared you know.” You reminded your now boyfriend, he was about to go on the ice for the first time in months, and the anxiety just hit him, what if’s repeating themselves in his head. Willow was fast asleep in the stroller, tired from her own activities this morning. “But–“ “No but, you’ve got this babe, you’ve been warming up to this for months, hell, you probably skate better than you walk.” You cut him off, giving him a short pep talk, you squealed in delight when he pulled you in for a quick kiss. You pulled away with a smile, “now, go show that ice whose boss.” You giggled, pecking him once more before patting his shoulder, you weren’t allowed to watch him rinkside, no distractions allowed, so you took Willow for a short walk, all the while she slept. You kept yourself busy, getting caught up with things on your phone as you waited for Tyler to call and say he was done.

Finally as you went back to get him, Willow was awake but grumpy, and hungry, so you kind of just rushed in with her on your hip. Also remembering you had some stuff to do for work today that was time sensitive, “how’d it go?” You asked as you bounced her in an attempt to get her to calm down. Tyler slung his bag over his shoulder, “it was great, rusty, but it felt good.” He explained shortly, sending your urgency, “I’ll put her in the car.” He offered, taking her from you, and instantly she calmed down, only making you feel worse. You knew it was common for her to go through phases, hell, she’d done this with Tyler where she wanted nothing to do with him for almost a whole month, you didn’t realize how bad it would hurt. He shot you an apologetic smile, “hey, just take a deep breath. You’re gonna get everything done on time.” He assured you.

***

New Years had come and gone, and Willow’s first birthday was quickly approaching, as were her first steps. Tyler was sad that they were going to be happening so soon, but at the same time he was beyond excited for her to be running around in no time.

She quickly grew out of the phase of only wanting Tyler, which both of you were grateful for, as he could see it eating away at you.

“Come on, come to dada.” You heard Tyler, you peeked your head around the wall, seeing him sitting on the floor arms reach away from Willow, she looked at him quizzically, reaching her arms out, she wobbled but didn’t fall. “Come on baby.” He encouraged her, she took one step, two, three, and he just kept sliding back until she couldn’t go any further. “Oh my god!” You and Tyler shouted at the same time, “shit,” he jumped now knowing you were behind him. “Hi.” You laughed, sitting beside him, “I think you officially have a walker on your hands.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He furrowed his brows for a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something, but then decided against it. “Yeah I do.” He chuckled in agreement, setting her back on her feet and grinning as she did it again, and again, and again until she was too tired to do anymore and just plopped herself on your lap.

“Hi baby.” You mumbled, kissing her forehead, she sighed, nuzzling into your neck, instantly falling asleep. “She loves you.” Tyler mumbled, tucking your loose hair behind your hair, you bit your lip as you looked over at him. “I love you.” He breathed out, relief hitting him when you broke into a huge smile, “I love you, Ty.” You mumbled, he kissed you as good as he could with Willow curled up on your lap. “Let’s go put her to bed, yeah.” He laughed, taking her from you and disappearing to her room in record speed.

***

Tyler had his first morning skate today, finally getting back into a routine with the team, he was anxious as it was on a Saturday, thankfully no game today, but it was Willow’s birthday party. Of course, all planned by you, Tyler clueless on what to do for a one year old, all he knew is it had to be puppy themed, because those were her absolute favorite things.

“Woah.” Tyler stopped in his tracks, seeing the decorations you’d spread out around the house, his dogs happily laying with party hats on their heads. “Baby, this is awesome.” He chuckled as you came around the corner to greet him, “I know it is.” You laughed, welcoming the hug he offered you. “Thanks for doing all this for her.” He mumbled against your head, “of course.”

***

“Dada, dada, dada!” Willow shrieked running towards him, “Willow?” He gasped, his first game back resulting in a loss, but he scored and you couldn’t lie, it made you emotional. And he was all the clueless to you two being here, “surprise!” You grinned as he scooped her up, “you came?” He mumbled in shock, kissing his daughter before pulling you in with his other arm, “of course we came.” You whispered against his lips, smiling as he finally kissed you, “you did so amazing, babe, I’m so proud of you.” You cupped his jaw with one hand, “thank you.” Is all he could get out before Willow started to speak. She reached for you, “mama.” Your breathing hitched, and Tyler’s smile had grown. You looked to him, afraid to over step, “yes baby, that’s mama.” He assured her, “Tyler.” You cautioned, taking her as she kept reaching for you.

“Y/N, she’s just as much yours as she is mine, you’ve been here since she came home, you’ve taken care of her like a mother, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. So yes. You’re her mom.” His words brought tears to your eyes, he smiled softly wiping away the tears, kissing your forehead as Willow watched curiously, she kissed your cheek with a smile, having learned early on to be affectionate to people she liked. “Thank you baby,” you cooed to her, resting your head on top of hers. “Mama?” She hummed, smiling against you. “Yeah.” You agreed. “I love you.” Tyler sighed, snapping a picture of his girls, he said the words right before he snapped the picture, getting the most genuine smile from you. “I love you.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck

#tyler seguin #imagine #imagines #Tyler seguin imagine #Tyler seguin imagines #Tyler seguin fic #Tyler seguin story #Dallas stars

[mctwcsty]

What Do I Do?

@sxtanshepherd​​ paged Meredith Grey

Hello?

Hi, is he in the lab?

What?

I know this is Derek Shepherd’s phone, who is this? Who is this? Who is this.

Hello.

     SIX MONTHS. Six months had passed already since Derek had left for D.C. to run the brain mapping project for the President. Six months of running their life and home alone in Seattle. Of taking the kids to school every other morning, picking them up every other night, the rest of them thankfully handled by Lynn, the nanny Meredith had found to help her out with them. Because her husband was off to Washington to take his career to the next level while she had stayed put in Seattle with their kids, which was her choice and she had taken responsibility for it. She still ran her department, alongside Bailey, and she was still working on her research. She was doing it all. She was exhausted, running on little sleep and a lot of caffeine, but she was doing it.

     She was doing it all until a small detail added in, a change of scenery she had not seen coming. A unplanned turn of events that made doing it all by herself a little less possible: she was pregnant. And the best part was, she had just found out. Right in the middle of a surgery, a feeling that had taken her breath away, a pressure in her lower back and a movement. Thing was, she recognized it because she had felt it before. What she did not understand was how was it possible. And then she had the resident close and rushed out, straight to OB, all the while calculating when her last period was, the days and the weeks adding up leaving her running her way up to OB and throwing herself in the nearest room with a monitor, self-examining herself until the OB came in and shut the door, offering to help. 24 weeks. She had not been showing, she still was not. Her stomach was flat, the way the baby was located left her bumpless, even though she had been pregnant before. Those cases happened, it was not out of the ordinary, and the baby was healthy. She was 24 weeks pregnant and practically a single-mother of two, soon three children, her husband was across the states and they barely managed to talk here and there because of their irregular schedules and they were going to have another baby.

     She had sat by the phone that night, after putting the kids down to bed, staring at her phone screen, unable to pick it up. She could feel it now, she could feel the baby moving inside of her. It was moving, it had a heartbeat, it had arms and legs and fingers and toes, ears, eyes, a mouth and a nose, hell it even had hair at that point and she was freaking out. And Derek was not there. She was all alone. She knew she had to pick up that phone and call him, but she could not bring herself to do it. She did not want to tell him they were going to have another baby over the phone? And yet she had to. She forced herself and picked up that phone, tapped on his contact and rang his cell. She leaned back in the couch and waited, hearing the ringtone incessantly ringing, her stomach in knots, just hoping he would pick up. They rarely caught each other, he often called while she was in surgery and she often called when he was in the lab and away from his phone. But the ringing stopped, he picked up. Or at least someone did.

“Hello?”   “Hi, is he in the lab?”   “What?”   “I know this is Derek Shepherd’s phone, who is this?” “Who is this? Who is this.” “Hello.”

Well if you keep answering his phone, at least you could have the decency  to tell me who the hell you are. Where the hell is my husband?

     EIGHT MONTHS. 34 weeks, to be more precise. At least from her calculations since their last sexual encounter, which was about their last actual general encounter - the day before he had left for D.C. - he had never returned to Seattle since, and the measurements of the foetus from her last ultrasound, she measured at about 34 weeks. Exactly ten weeks since that phone call. Not a day went by that she did not think or analyze that phone call, especially because the rare times Derek and her managed to reach other on the phone, he never said anything about it, about any woman answering his phone. She had not told anyone about it, not even Alex. Because saying it out loud made it real, and the truth was, she could not bare for it to be. The idea that she had become the woman who wonders if that woman on the phone was the woman who had been screwing her husband, she could not be that woman. She could not have gone from the woman screwing the married guy, to the woman whose husband is screwing another woman. Not after everything, not after spending literally the past eight months handling everything alone and keeping the boat afloat, and growing that husband’s child in her belly.

     She was sitting in the attending’s lounge, the empty lounge with the big couch where she had come to rest her feet as they were killing her. It had been about four weeks now since she had started showing, and she had been telling everyone that Derek knew, but the truth was, he had no idea. He did not know she was pregnant yet. Over two months and she had not told him. Because the rare times where they had managed to actually get a hold of each other on the phone, she had let the kids speak to him because they missed him terribly, and then he was either rushing back to the lab or was off to some meeting with the President. He did not even know she was pregnant, because he was halfway across their world, busy making his career count while she was back home, keeping it all together, alone. And he was not even seeing it. 

     But Zola had almost spilled it once over a call, thankfully she had caught it in time and spared an awkward way for Derek to find out, and selfishly she did not want him to know until she felt it was the right moment to have the conversation... the whole conversation. She knew she had to tell him. And so she had decided to do it. After all, she was only a few weeks away from her due date. It sure had flew by way quicker than any pregnancy usually would, especially with everything she had going on, but also because she had only just found out and half the pregnancy was done, it would certainly be a shock for him, but she knew he loved their kids and she was convinced he would be excited, deep down. It would be a shock, but he would be excited. At least she convinced herself of that as she picked up the phone and called him on his cell, then brought the phone to her ear, repeating herself those words again and again and again as the tone rang a while. She was sure she would fall on his voicemail and was about to hang up, but the line picked up. 

“Hello?”

     That voice again. It literally sent chills up her spine because she knew. That was not some secretary, or some random woman finding a lost phone and picking it up. This was not a coincidence or an accident. It had been two months, and she still answered his phone. And all Meredith could think about was the fact that she never answered her husband’s phone, at least not until they were actually married and it had happened on rare occasions. She felt the blood in her veins turning to ice and like something was wrapping tightly around her body, suffocating her. She managed to swallow through her tightened throat and speak up. “Well if you keep answering his phone, at least you could have the decency to tell me who the hell you are.” She snapped, pausing a moment before adding, “Where the hell is my husband?”

     The woman hung up. Again. Meredith’s hand fell on the couch and she stared straight ahead, her heart dropping in her chest. It felt like her whole world had just collapsed around her. Shattering, into billions of pieces. Ten weeks of tossing so many questions around her mind, but every time shutting them out because no, Derek would not do that. The he loves me and he loves our family and we’ve been through too much for this to happen - she had told herself it all. But the woman answered his phone again, and hung up, again. 

     The next day, she had called Alex and within ten minutes he ended up at her front door. She told him Derek did not know about the pregnancy, told him about that previous phone call, and then the one from the previous night. Convinced him not to hunt Derek down for her in a trip to D.C. or to give him hell in any type of way. She tried to ring Derek’s phone again throughout the day, every time winding up on his voicemail, until she stopped calling. Maggie and Callie both tried to convince her that he could not be cheating, while at the same time understanding the way she felt. Callie offered to go find him in D.C. but Meredith turned the offer down. She did not want any of them to contact him. She had made the decision to stop contacting him, that he would have to contact her, and she made all of them swear to not try to call him, to respect her request and to above all not tell him about the pregnancy. 

     And within the next 24 hours, what Meredith thought were simply Braxton Hicks turned out to be pre-term labor. Thankfully she had been in the hospital when it started and Alex had forced her to get checked out, and her water had broke on the OB table. Everything else from that point forward went extremely fast, she was dilated at three and within two hours was fully dilated and ready to push, so grateful that she would not need C-section because that had been hell the first time, and the last thing she needed on top of everything was a post-partum C-section recovery. The baby was born within the next ten minutes, a little girl, and Meredith ordered Alex to go with her to the NICU and to not leave her side, as well as ordered everybody not to call Derek, or she would kill them. Literally. 

     The baby stayed a week in the NICU, but was thankfully perfectly healthy and Alex had kept her in a few extra days just to be sure, also hoping that Meredith might change her mind in the mean time and give Derek a call. But she was strong-headed and when she made a decision, she made it firmly. The worst part was, Derek had not even called once since that day. Not once. Meredith was done. She was done trying to keep their family together, done doing everything to make him still be the good guy when he did not have the decency to at least show her enough respect to call her back. She was done. She was exhausted, heartbroken, she felt like dying literally, but she was done. She would not be her mother, this would not destroy her.

     And so when she made it home, Alex having insisted on taking her home himself, Amelia and Maggie waiting for her with Zola and Bailey and a Welcome Home! banner that the kids had made, just stepping into the house had paralyzed her. It was a house, but it was no longer home. She did not feel home anymore in that house. She was suffocating. Being around the house that Derek had built them for their family, it was suffocating. 

     Ever since coming home, actually ever since that first phone call, there was only one person she could not get out of her mind. And for those ten weeks she had desperately tried to toss away, as all the questions and interrogations spinning around in her mind. But that night, after that phone call, she could not get her out of her head. And standing in that house, it was all she could think about. And so while Amelia was off to the bathroom, Maggie putting Zola and Bailey down for the night, Alex had ran out to get them dinner, Meredith stole Amelia’s phone that she had left on the low table in the living room and entered her password that she secretly knew, and she searched for a specific contact, and a specific address. 

     Came night time, Meredith had ordered everyone to leave her be for the night, said she needed her space and to figure things out alone. Alex had promised to be at her door at 7 sharp for breakfast and to take the kids to school and daycare, Maggie promising to come by to help out with the baby and Amelia offering to help if Meredith needed it. The minute they were all gone and she found herself alone at the house, she went to her room while the baby napped in the bassinet, pulled out a bag and filled it with some of her clothes, then she quietly went into Zola’s room and grabbed some of her clothes, then some of Bailey’s, grabbed diapers and bottles from the kitchen counter. Thankfully the diaper bag was freshly packed so she had everything she needed for the baby in there. She packed all their stuff within twenty minutes, and as she found herself standing in the middle of the living room, seeing all the packed up bags, she felt like she could breathe a little better. She nodded to herself and pulled what was left of energy in her, called a cab and then went to wake the kids. She left them in their PJs and just threw a coat over them, put their shoes on, got the baby in the carseat and got them all outside. She stopped at the door and turned around to take one last look at the house, feeling completely numb as she shut all the lights, then turned back around and headed out of the house, closing the door behind her and locking it. She then slid the key out of her keyset and left it under the mat on the front porch, and turned around just in time for the cab to pull in the drive way.

     Meredith got to the airport and bought three tickets for herself and the two oldest kids, and within the next hour they were off on a plane to Los Angeles. Sitting in that plane alone with her two oldest kids and a newborn in her arms was not quite what Meredith had expected her life to turn into, but it was. “Are you traveling alone with all of them?” Some old woman had asked on the plane, to which Meredith had forced a smile and nodded in response. Planes. She hated planes. She would panic the whole flight through. But with a newborn and two kids, there was no way she would sit them in a car for a 18+ hour drive, or a 35+ hour train ride even less so. And she just had to go, she had to do it. She summoned whatever force might be up there to make sure they all got to destination safely and finally breathed again when they landed in LA. She was lucky she had good kids, they had done amazing the whole flight through, had slept it right through, even the baby who had only fed once shortly before landing, which meant she would be good for a while and it was perfect timing. They all got off the plane and Meredith got the help of a man that worked at the airport, helping her getting her things together and even escorted her to a cab. She gave him a good tip and insisted when he refused, thanking him before hopping in the cab and giving them the address. 

     As they pulled in front of the address she had taken from Amelia’s phone, Meredith felt her heart beating so fast in her chest. She paid the cab driver and got all the kids out of the cab, then picked up their stuff. The man was kind enough to help bring the bags up the stairs to the door for her, and she offered him an extra tip that he refused, then watched as he drove away before turning to face the door. Bailey half-asleep in her arms, Zola tiredly leaning against her, her arms wrapped around her legs, the carseat at her feet, next to their bags. Swallowing thickly, Meredith leaned forward and knocked on the door. It was the middle of the night, half past 1AM, surely she would wake her up, but she had nowhere else to go. And so she stood there and waited until the door opened, feeling her heart dropping in her chest with relief when it did and her eyes locked with Addison.

     “He did it again,” she breathed out exhaustedly, her shoulders sinking, the last bit of strength she had going into holding Bailey in her arms and keeping him from falling - or was it him that kept her from falling. “I’m you,” she shrugged. “He’s found another me.” She gulped thickly. “We weren’t supposed to run or walk out on each other, we were supposed to love each other even when we hated each other and to take care of each other when we were old and senile, it was supposed to be forever. It was the post-it. We were supposed to be it but we’re not, I’m not.” She shrugged helplessly. “We were supposed to do this together and he left me to do it all alone, and I don’t know what to do. But you know what to do, so I need you to tell me.” She paused, staring at Addison as she breathed out so desperately, “What do I do?”

#Para: Addison Montgomery #sxtanshepherd #( What Do I Do? ) #omg this hurts on so many level BUT IM SO EXCITED OMG

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 31

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L  Warnings: Language, smoking weed, shitty parenting, mentions of death A/N: more of a filler but it helps establish stuff. *unbeta'd

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 31: Drowning on Dry Land

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The week before her flight back, Matthew’s parents invited her over for dinner.

Waiting to greet them at the door was Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin. Matthew’s father, a Half-Maj, was a Potioneer while his mother, an Old-Maj, was a Court Scribe. They wore large, kind smiles as Mrs. Gaplin pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.

After pleasantries, she and Matthew kicked off their shoes while his parents ushered them to the dining room.

“How are you darling? '' Mrs. Gaplin asked, floating plates in their direction as everyone began helping themselves to food. “Matt wouldn’t stop talking about you since we knew y’were coming.”

She side-eyed Matthew who groaned loudly. “Did not!”

“Sure thing,” she added, which caused Matthew to slump in his chair as his parents laughed at him.

It was a nice, charming evening; filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations. His parents continued to gloat about Mathew’s achievements that he hadn’t told her. It caused him to almost get up and run out of the room from embarrassment before moving to boast about Y/N. Even Mr. Gaplin asked her regarding her OWLs which pleasantly surprised her.

A few times, Mr. Gaplin pressed a few cheeky kisses to his wife’s face as Matthew made loud retching noises.

“Disgusting!”

Mr. Gaplin laughed. “Ya sixteen. Suck it up.”

“But you’re still my baby!” Mrs. Gaplin cooed, getting up to collect the plates.

Matthew tried to look insulted but she could see the small smile that threatened his lips as jealousy nipped at her toes.

The next few days were spent staying at the Gaplin household. Matthew’s parents insisted constantly that she should stay over so they could utilize the little time they had left before leaving. At first, the idea made her feel intrusive. Although, her mother hadn’t returned to the brownstone house, preferring to sleep in the on-call rooms at the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital. It quickly got lonely and boring before Y/N finally agreed. Besides, Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin were only around for breakfast and dinner - working for the day but never failed to return; always wearing larger smiles than the previous night.

They made her feel welcomed and warm - even taking her and Matthew to the local pictures. They included her in everything, even their trivia and board games after dinner.

It was quite the change compared to her family life.

Then an identical routine ensued. She would wake up, get ready for the day; spend hours with Matthew; then twilight fell as they stayed awake into the early hours of the morning.

The day before she was due to leave, she and Matthew ran up to his room after dinner. He went to lean on top of the small coffee table, rolling up a joint as she collected her possessions scattered around his room; not wanting to leave it for the last minute.

“Fancy some grass?” He asked in a poor British accent.

“Nah,” she shook her head, “But thanks love.”

Mathew’s smile turned bashful as he stood, turning on the radio in the background. She moved to open his window which was just above the roof of his shed as she stepped out with steady feet. Perching herself down on the blankets and pillows they hauled outside the night prior, she stared at the glowing city splayed in front. From the window, The Velvet Underground flowed softly.

Matthew proceeded to hop out, sauntering over as he threw a flirtatious wink.

“Brough this,” he said, tossing the camera he’d taken from her bag. She caught it as he nestled beside her and lit the joint; placed in his mouth. Billows of smoke clouded around them while she snapped a few photos of the view.

“Ya sure you gotta leave?” Matthew whined, embers of the end of the joint sparking with another huff. “Maybe you can smuggle me. Shove me into that trunk.”

She pulled the camera away from her face, inhaling the earthy, pungent scent. Her head felt a bit lightheaded from it. “A hardcore criminal at sixteen?”

Matthew was mildly amused until a troublesome look passed through his features. “Um — name something ya miss most about home.”

Home. What a funny word — place — feeling. Home was supposed to be something that made your heart glow, feel warm and happy — by that definition, a year ago home would’ve been her little house back in Toronto with the beautiful maple trees swaying in the backyard. Or home would’ve been Ilvermorny and its tall ivory walls. But now, London, or maybe just Hogwarts, had become her home. The scrolls around the Herbology greenhouse, the library, sneaking around past curfew; the Black Lake, Hogsmeade — Lily, James, Marlene, Dorcas, Remus, Regulus…

Unsure of what to say, she opted for, “You?”

Matthew rolled his eyes, bringing the joint to his lips. “Real charmer.” Then, smoke surrounded them. “But really.”

“Why?”

“C’mon! I need an answer! — I don’t know… say somethin’ like… lobstah.”

She chuckled. “Lobster? Really?”

“Or coffee from ya regular cafe.”

Deliberating it for a second, lips tugged up. “Coffee Crisp.”

He snorted. “A candy bar? Really?”

“Or Ketchup chips. Haven’t seen them in London yet.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

And then the silence returns but it makes Matthew shuffle in his spot. He blurted out, “Go — more brit insight.”

Y/N felt a bit hazy from the secondhand smoke. “More? You’ll get bored.”

“I won’t,” Matthew replied quickly, sounding oddly sincere. “Please, just… go on. Tell me everything.”

“Um… a friend of mine says crikey a lot. I think it just means to be mildly surprised? — They don’t say bloody or blimey as much as you’d think… Oh! Tea — they really drink that much tea. Also —”

Continuing, Matthew shut off again, going completely silent — not once speaking up or adding funny commentary; only staring at her, simply watching.

“Okay,” she turned to take the joint from his hand, “You're freaking me out. Spill, what's up?”

“S’nuthing.”

Whack!

“Jeez! Would ya stop wiv that! Gonna kill me…”

“Spill.”

“Fine! It’s just that…'' Matthew shifted, obscuring his face. Maybe if she didn’t feel so fuzzy, or if there wasn’t the smoke coming from the blunt or her small headache forming, she would’ve picked up on all the little signs. “It’s just —” he sighed, “I wanna hear ya talk — commit it to memory.”

“Obsessed with me? Not new.”

But that seemed to trouble him more. “It’s just… I don’t know if or when I’ll hear it again…” He looks up to the city in front. “Ya my… best friend. Could never forget ‘bout ya, but s’hard — keepin’ in touch.”

She pats him, encouraging and smiling. Her voice was hopeful, so much so that it made Matthew’s lip quirk up. “We’ll find each other. Always.” She said simply. “You and me, we’re like… salt and pepper. Soap and water — Hansel and Gretel!”

“Fuckin’ Dr. Seuss,” he smiled, that worried look fading away.

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The warm summer breeze flowed around them, just as the sun peeked above the airport. Expanse, clear skies with blue mingled with deep purples and pinks shimmered against the metal from the building.

“Gonna miss ya,” Matthew muttered into the crown of her head. Her mother didn’t want him to come, but Y/N simply ignored that request as he came to send her off.

“Don’t get mushy on me now,” she joked but felt her throat become tight.

“Betta get goin’ — Doc’s lookin’ like she’s ‘bout to butcher me if ya don’t.”

She snickered, pushing Matthew’s shoulder as she picked up her bags, walking backwards while waving. “Write me!”

“Course I will! Until next time!”

“Till next time!”

Once the plane took off, awkwardness swelled among the two women. Not once had her mother said anything to her — not to apologize or see how she was doing — although they never really did talk much. Honestly, she half-expected her to leave her in New York with the Gaplins. Easy to dispose of her.

The next few days Y/N, poorly, attempted to fix her sleeping schedule. It was a miracle that she managed to get up before dinner as her head poked into the master bedroom.

She cleared her throat, feeling herself swaying in place. “Um — hi. I’m making dinner tonight.”

Her mother was dressed in a simple, yet sleek dress. She was bent over, putting on high heels as she looked up.

“The hospital is throwing a party for me — the surgery was a success.”

“That’s amazing! Er — will you be back for dinner though? It’s just that I leave soon and... two parties are better than one.”

She considered her for a long time, eyes mostly distracted by her hair slowly changing to a different colour.

“Sure. But I have to go now.”

“Right, sorry, have fun.”

Thudding down the stairs and the door clicking shut, she followed not too long after. Making her way to the kitchen, she picked up a dusty cooking book, blowing off the dust and cracked it open; flicking through the pages.

Deciding on the seemingly easy noodle dish, she rushed out of the house to the local grocery shop for ingredients. It would be the first time they would be spending any time together. It had to be perfect. But she overestimated that no matter how closely she stuck with the dishes’ instructions, the outcome was a disaster.

The noodles somehow were rock hard. The sauce she made looked grey and was chunky, similar to badly mixed concrete and it tasted horrid. At one point, even the stove exploded into flames as she had to grab her wand and use magic to extinguish the fire.

Potions... She could use a cauldron, use multiple ingredients, make some of the most complicated spells and even had tricks of her own to make the process easier but she couldn’t make a simple dish…

Her face screwed together as she glanced up to the clock; she was going to come home soon as the dinner she made was disastrous. She panicked, cleaning up everything in a rush and decided to order food.

Waiting patiently at the dinner table, her eyes fluttered up to the clock in anticipation. She felt giddy, a surge of excitement rattling throughout her bones at the prospect. Her mother wanted to spend time with her! And she should be home any minute.

But then a minute turned to two, then five, ten, twenty, thirty — then an hour ticked by.

And then another.

Y/N got up, her chair squeaking loudly. Losing all her appetite, she went to her room, sleeping in early.

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August 20th, 1976

Going through the potential NEWT courses she could take was the highlight of her day. The possibilities were endless.

Wanting to take Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfigurations and most of all, Potions, left her excited for the school year.

But the more she thought about the upcoming school year or potential courses, she was left to contemplate what ther5 future entailed.

Was she ready to give up magic? Something that fundamentally altered her life and moulded her into what she was? Magic was her essence, something she developed and nurtured — but to put her life in danger…

Rethinking that word again: home… Was London her home? Was she willing to leave, move again to be safer? But practicing magic around the world these days for New-Majs was dangerous. Or the potential danger she would put her mother in if she continued with it?

But magic… Maybe home wasn’t necessarily a place — but rather something she carried. In all sense, magic made her heart glow, feel warm, safe and happy — it felt like what home was supposed to feel like. And the idea of being ripped away from it, forcing herself to live a normal, Muggle life…

Magic was home.

So die, but have what she cared and loved most was by her side or live a dull life without magic — ensuring her life would be miserable.

There was a clicking of shoes in the hallway that snapped her out of her thoughts. Her mother came walking by.

Lips smushed shut into a tight line, still annoyed from the other night but was determined to spend some time with one another.

“I was planning to go to Diagon Alley for the first time — to get my textbooks... '' She stood awkwardly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I can’t,” she replied, so quickly that it had Y/N almost scoff in disbelief. “Work. But have fun.”

She sighed but still waved her off and said a small, ‘I love you, stay safe.’ Her mother only gave her a look, something unreadable and left without a word. With a heavy heart, she grabbed her purse filled with gold and left for Diagon Alley.

Passing through the Leaky Cauldron was an adventure in itself. The shabby, tiny pub was jammed with wizards and witches zipping by.

Diagon Alley was bustling with so much magic she could feel it pumping through her blood. Students were hypnotized by the shiny new Firebolt on display; others were giggling, running around with shopping bags while older witches and wizards took a scroll. Her head turned in every direction; walking into the Apothecary, a potions ingredients and book shop.

Emmeline was there. She gave a tight-lipped smile which she returned.

Emmeline by every definition was nice, extremely kind and neither girl ever had a problem with the other. James was the problem and Y/N would gladly stay out of their feud.

Passing clamouring students, she managed to get all her supplies but stopped in front of the potion ingredients. She took a few minutes, flicking through the Advance Potions textbook and grabbed everything listed needed for most of the potions.

She made her way around Diagon Alley, going through many shops. The shelves were stacked high to the ceiling with books and materials. She spent more time than necessary there but it was beautiful.

As she was paying for her Herbology textbook, a large boom! rumbled the ground. Y/N took her bags, ready to sprint to the Leaky Cauldron but the shouts caught everyone’s attention.

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” A crowd of witches and wizards shouted. Their wands were transformed into microphones as a few shot fireballs up in the air.

“What’s happening?” A woman asked an old wizard. He only shook his head, grabbing a copy of the Daily Prophet, handing it to the witch.

On the front page, there were moving photos of people protesting, similar to the wizards and witches currently shouting.

‘Protests Break out in Light of Muggleborns and Halfbloods Burned Alive

Voldemort and his followers have been attacking Muggleborn and ‘blood traitor' families with the usage of fire. By burning them alive, or their houses. They bonded the witch or wizard with magic, making it impossible to apparate or leave their houses. Their broken wands were found at the scene.

Since then, protests all around Britain and Scotland have broken out. The Ministry of Magic —’

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” The crowd chanted.

Rage filled every inch of her body as she stomped out of Diagon Alley.

If she wanted to stay in the magical world, she had to be the greatest at whatever she did, because if she wasn’t, someone of her status was never going to get anywhere.

Magic was home, and she wasn’t going to let them take it from her. She didn’t want to surrender. They weren’t going to take that away from her.

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Immediately after Diagonal Alley, she began working; taking in her thoughts from earlier to heart.

Making sure to cover any windows from prying eyes, Y/N fiddle with first with new charms. Still unassured by her abilities in Charms, she considered taking another class before realizing all the different routes it led to. To become a Healer, Auror or Potioneer, she needed Charms.

Multiple charms backfired, causing them to ricochet off the walls, leaving a dent or chipping the wallpaper.

After trying out more than half the Charms in the book, there was one spell in particular that she attempted to cast many times, but without fail, was never able to properly cast it. Frustrated, her hand made a sharp flick and the spell spurted out instantly.

She tried again with the same hand gesture. To her astonishment, the charm produced easily. Quickly, she jotted down the note in her book.

Next, she glossed over her Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts book until her eyes caught onto the word: werewolf.

She learned briefly about werewolves, but that was in third year. And now that she knew a werewolf, it would be good to rehash it.

A werewolf, also known as a Lycanthrope, is a non-magical or magical being who transforms under the rising of the full moon. However, non-magical beings have a greater risk of dying rather than turning.

As the name suggests, werewolves are closely related to the non-magical animal, wolves. However, they have distinct characteristics that make them easily identifiable from wolves.

She flipped the page.

Wolfsbane flowers are poisonous to the non-magical world but it has been proven to have no effects on werewolves like they do on wolves. Werewolves are immune from the poison they emit and there are reports that Wolfsbane flowers help alleviate symptoms.

She underlined that section.

It’s a uniquely magical illness known to spread by saliva and blood. Werewolves are dangerous, blood-thirsty beasts — she flipped the page.

They cannot choose to transform and will no longer retain their human mind. Given the opportunity, they would slaughter their loved ones — flipped the page.

A mixture of powdered silver and dittany applied to bites help seal bite wounds. It’s also commonly put in liquid and digested in anticipation of full moons to help with the symptoms of transforming.

Y/N’s face scrunched as she continued to read.

There is no known cure Potion used to help treat lycanthropy.

She felt oddly intrusive knowing parts about Remus’ condition. But then questions arose. How were there no Potions of any kind there to help werewolves during their transformation?

Pushing the thought away, she turned to the cauldron, picking a potion to brew. They all were fairly easy, some she’d even done before just by playing around. But one potion that grabbed her attention was Draught of Living Death. Even at Ilvermorny, that potion was notoriously difficult.

Starting up the cauldron, she grabbed hold of the sopophorous bean. However, it kept jumping when she tried to cut it. She quickly resorted to another method, running down to her kitchen and grabbing the handheld garlic press, placing the bean inside, squishing it down as so much juice spurted out, even going all over her clothing.

The potion turned into the light lilac like suggested. But then as she stirred, her potion quickly became ruined as she restarted immediately.

Hours ticked by; several items in her room were Transfigured into cauldrons, as she poured the existing solution into the nine other cauldrons as she conducted her experiment.

Stirring counterclockwise was a sham, so she stirred clockwise. Nothing, the potion went bad. The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise and then clockwise, alternating between every stir. It showed promising progress before it turned a bright red after the seventh stir, bubbling over.

The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise, then clockwise after the seventh stir as the potion turned a pink pale. That’s what the book said would happen. She quickly cleared the rest of the cauldrons, pouring in the pink liquid just in case.

She continued to stir until it became a clear liquid. Surely, that was good enough but she could never be sure. After all, she didn’t know if this was what it was supposed to look like.

Deeply immersed, she hadn’t realized how late it got.

She laid on her bed, her light on as she read the scribbles on the margins of the books she'd penned. The textbook was outdated and everything she’s written down, there were easier ways to perform spells, create Potions and more. The other books must’ve been outdated too.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 22nd, 1976

Today, her attention was drawn to her Herbology textbook as she flipped right to the medicine section. Y/N had sneakily stolen a few of her mother’s medical journals as she scribbled down notes.

She flicked through the diagrams. Wizards and No-Majs were different when it came to their bodies and sickness, she knew that, but their anatomy was still the same.

An opera played in the background as she sat in front of the television. It filled the silence as her mother came from behind her, creeping her way closer to the door.

Y/N called out from where she sat. “Care to join me?”

“Can't, work.” She grunted out.

She placed the pen down, full attention drawn to her. “I only have a few days until school starts… you can’t spend some time?”

Her mom wasn’t looking at her, ostensibly staring at the floor, anywhere other than her face.

“It’s not that interesting, but um - I need help with medical terms and illnesses. You’re the best at that!”

“I can’t,” she said roughly. “Can't you see? You have to stop bothering me when I’m busy.” And then she left again, leaving her alone. Y/N would’ve been more bothered had she not been so focused on her studies.

There was a pattern.

In the Herbology textbook, in the werewolf section, there were a few ingredients used to help alleviate symptoms of Lycanthropy.

Dittany, Powered silver, Powdered Moonstone, Aconite…

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 26th, 1976

“Do you want to —” “Work.”

“But you always have work… can’t you take some time off?”

“You know it’s important to me. Why do you keep trying to limit that?”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 29th, 1976

She was partially through her Potions and Charms textbook. It was all she could fixate on.

Deciding to take a break, Y/N went to stretch, getting up to talk to her mom who again, was getting ready to leave. She opened the honey-coloured wood draw close to the door. She pulled out a set of keys, fixing her appearance in a nearby mirror.

She had already opened the door.

“Hey mom, I was thinking of getting lunch… Will you be back soon?”

But, there was faint muffling outside the door.

“Ready for our date?”

Y/N, desperate, seized hold of her wrist, pleading. “Please, I leave in a day.”

“I'll make it up to you,” mom replied, “I promise.” And then, the door clicked shut.

Again.

She stared at the door, trying to regulate what she was thinking.

What made them worthy of her time when their’s were limited.

Robotically, Y/N turned to walk to her room, her hip bumped into the drawer which hadn’t been fully closed. Her eyes flew to it, about to push it in as she caught a flash of white.

Yanking it open, she swore her heart could’ve shattered. White envelopes filled the draw; her familiar handwriting scribbled on top of each letter. She picked one up, twisting it over to the flap.

It was unopened.

She picked up another. Unopened.

Then another. Unopened.

Unopened.

All of them were unopened, sealed. Hardly tampered with and there was hardly a wrinkle.

Was there something wrong with her? Something so disgraceful that made her so disgusting that people kept forgetting - pushing her away? Like an insidious disease.

Was she truly that unloveable? That much of a nuisance? What made someone else so much more important than her?

It was too much to process but if she had to describe the feeling, it was like drowning on dry land.

Whatever home was, it shouldn’t feel like this: cold, lonely, sad.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary (+ a bit of history bc i didn’t realize how many ppl didn’t actually understand what I was talking about in other chaps):

Coffee Crisp = a very popular chocolate bar sold in Canada. It was a variation of a treat made by a company from the UK. It was briefly introduced to the UK in the 60s but was pulled back because people thought it was too similar to Kit Kat. From what I know, Coffee Crisp is not commonly found in England (I've never seen it in stores) but it’s sold in Scotland.

Candy bar = US term for chocolate bar / chocolate

Grass = during the 60s - 70s, the term 'grass' was very popular slang for weed in New York bc it featured in vogue.

And yes, the British do drink that much tea.

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

#remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x y/n #Remus lupin x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #hp series #harry potter self insert #the marauders #harry potter marauders #harry potter fanfiction #hp #fanfiction #harry potter x reader #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #sbtmas #hp angst #remus and sirius #young!remus lupin #young!remus lupin x reader #young!sirius black x reader #young!sirius black #young marauders #harry potter #marauders era #marauders x reader

[simonsrosebud]

the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 3

part one two four five

kevin has a talk with them the next morning before practice.  or more of just him storming into the lounge and going off.  the four freshman are there, too, but he doesn’t quite care.

“dalton isn’t fucked up like the rest of us!  there’s a reason i didn’t want any of you meeting or even knowing about him and it’s not because i hadn’t fucking come out yet.  he’s not a fox, and he’s not even thea.  he’s not involved with exy, he doesn’t know about riko and me and the moriyama’s and the rest!  there’s a lot of shit he doesn’t know about yet and none of you had the right throwing it all out in the air last night just to have a fucking laugh.  tell me, was it funny?  was it fucking funny getting him shitfaced just to get some answers and take the piss?!”

dan stands, and kevin holds a hand out.  she looks to andrew, but his silence sides him with kevin.  “kevin, we were just trying to-“

“you have no excuses, dan.  none of you do.  you were trying to make a fool of me and my boyfriend for nothing.  and now, i have to go cure his curiosity of the things you all said.”  and he storms out.

wymack doesn’t stop him.  if anything, he looks mad at those left.  “the fuck did you do to him to make him skip practice?!  you realize that’s never happened so long as he’s lived, right?!  we don’t have protocol for the day kevin skips exy.”

meanwhile, dalton doesn’t actually have that many questions.  the numbing of alcohol for a face tattoo is understandable, especially knowing that kevin’s sober and therefore must have had a problem.  the cracker dust he asks about just because he doesn’t know what it is- he doesn’t like it, but trusts kevin that he’s done with it.  he’s seen the scar along kevin’s hand, he already assumed it was from a surgery.  the edgar allen thing was too vague for him to be curious about, but he does ask- not about, the father comment, but if he’s okay about it.  kevin tells him this much;  that he transferred from edgar allen to palmetto because he’d known for a few years that wymack was his father, and that he didn’t have the courage to tell him until last year.

kevin thanks the gods that dalton doesn’t ask about or seem to remember any mention of the yakuza.

they’re at kevin’s suite because he knows they’ll have a few hours by themselves with everyone at the stadium, but only an hour in there’s knocking on the door.  dalton has his lips on kevin’s- he’d just said how he likes having access to his “real smile”.  “gonna get it?”  kevin shakes his head.  the knocking starts again.

“come on, kevin!  we’re sorry!  just open up for a second!”

kevin knows dalton likes when he speaks french, so he sighs and kisses him before whispering, “i hate them all.”

dan is at his door with matt and allison in tow.  “what do you want?”

“to apologize.”  kevin raises his eyebrows.  “look, we take the piss a lot and you never seemed to be visibly affected by it, so we didn’t realize that last night was upsetting you until you left.”

“you said never have i ever seen kevin have a meltdown.  why do you think you’ve seen that?  because i’m a toddler?  you know what i’ve had my reasons.”  riko.  the moriyamas.

“i know.  look, we don’t want to give you excuses.  i-i don’t have an explanation.  you’ve always kind of let us take the piss without saying anything, and we took it too far, especially last night.  andrew looked like he wanted to kill nicky for the yakuza comment, but neil talked to him about it before we went to the stadium this morning,” she whispers the last part because she’s not stupid, and kevin huffs.

matt jumps in.  “we wanna make it up to you, man.  you’ve obviously hid him from us for a reason and we proved you right.”  kevin honestly wants to get back to dalton and he wants it to just be over with.  “bring him to the winter banquet, we’ll be nice.  if anyone says anything i’ll punch em.  neil will chew em out.”

kevin grimaces.  the ravens will be at the banquet.  it’s in just over a month, the second week of december.  he’ll have to tell dalton some things by then.  and he might have to say something to the public.

he doesn’t tell him anything.  not yet, at least.  he still has three weeks until the banquet- he hasn’t even asked dalton yet.  he starts to like away games a little more than before, though.  he gets dalton a little postcard from every new state they go to.  he tapes them all to one of the walls of his room.

he’s on the phone with dalton at an airport general store, even, when he gets interrupted by two girls.  he puts on his press smile before he even notices.  “hold on, d.”

he doesn’t love fan interactions.

when they leave, dalton asks him with amusement if he’s got fans now, and kevin kind of decides he should probably tell him some more about his life because jesus, does he have fans.  he needs to tell him about he and riko.  what they were, what they were to fans of exy, what kevin was to fans of exy.  what kevin was to riko- without involving the yakuza.

but he doesn’t, because dalton never brings up the topic of “fans” again.

he doesn’t tell him until a week later, when he wakes up from a nightmare.

dalton’s leaning over him, speaking, but all kevin sees is riko riko riko.  it takes all of two seconds for dalton to back off.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s dalton.  you’re safe, you’re in my apartment.  no one else is here, i promise.”

kevin’s breathing so hard, dalton flicks the lamp on and he just crumbles.  he sits up and presses his hands over his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“can i touch you?” he nods.  dalton’s sitting at his side, cross legged, and gently pulls kevin’s hands off his eyes.  “you don’t have to be sorry.  i know there’s shit in here,” he lightly lifts his hands to hold kevin’s face and taps his temple with a finger, “i don’t need to know what it is, just know you don’t have to apologize for it, and know you’re safe.”

kevin nods and twists to hug him.  and dalton wraps his arms securely around kevin’s back.  he presses a kiss to the top of his head and mumbles “c’mere” to prompt kevin into climbing into his lap.

dalton slides his fingers through kevin’s hair and it’s just so soothing, it nearly puts him to sleep.  and when dalton lays back down kevin stays wrapped around him with his cheek pressed to his chest.

when kevin wakes up it’s to find they’ve switched positions overnight.  dalton’s got his arm lazily draped over kevin’s waist, almost holding him close like a pillow.  his ankle is thrown over kevin’s, and his head is pressed into the back of kevin’s neck.

kevin doesn’t want to move.  in fact, he stays so still so as to not wake dalton, that when he stirs kevin just shushes him and pulls dalton’s arm back around him.  he holds his hand close to his chest.

dalton’s not stupid.  he knows kevin’s awake and nuzzles himself closer.  “you like being cuddled.”

“you’re the one doing it, not me.”  but he definitely tilts further into the pillow to expose his neck when dalton starts kissing up the side.

“you like being the little spoon.”  and pushes himself up over kevin.  “you like when you’re on the bottom, kev.” he kisses him deep into the mattress despite morning breath, and noses down his neck.  “i like it.”

kevin tugs at dalton’s hair.  “and what… what about it?”

ahaha.  aha.  sex.

anyway.

he tells dalton everything afterwards.  he leaves out the yakuza part, and the fact of neil’s past, because that’s another monster.  but he tells him the rest.  who his mother is and why he’s such a big deal in the exy world;  why he really left edgar allen and came to the foxes;  the tattoo that’s buried under his chess piece and what it meant.  what his relationship with riko was really like, and everything about their past and the abuse he endured.

and he fills him in on what triggers him because of that: small pitch black rooms, confined spaces without an easy way out, holding his hand too tight, the mention of riko moriyama, a lot of other things.

and dalton stays. 

so kevin asks him to the banquet.  when he says yes, he asks wymack for help arranging an interview.  there are enough people and press lingering outside the exy banquets, and he’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand on the way in this year.

it’s scheduled to be live the morning before the banquet.  it’s with sophie silletti for espn college exy, and she posts about it as soon as it’s booked.

kevin sits with her.  it’s nothing like kathy ferdinand.  they talk strictly about exy and eventually, with his pre-approved questions, she brings up thea’s team’s most recent game.  “and forgive me if i’m wrong, but you and thea muldani split recently, yes?”

kevin nods.  “back in may, i’d say.  we’re still friendly, i have the utmost respect towards her.  in the end it just didn’t work out.”  i haven’t talked to her in months.

sophie nods.  “everything happens for a reason, i’d like to think.”

“of course.  it wouldn’t have led me elsewhere.”

“is that hinting at something?  i feel we don’t normally talk about this, but does kevin day have someone new in his love life?”  

kevin palms are sweating.  he hopes his face isn’t red with nerves.  “i do, actually.  i won’t say anything about him for his own privacy” i don’t want the public’s prying eyes “but we’ve been together for a bit, now.”

sophie is grinning, she feigns surprise.  “i heard you say him, did i not?  anything else to tell us?”

he keeps his smile easy, but he can feel the worry in the back of his head telling himself they can see right through it.  “if you’re asking, then sure.  i’m a bisexual man, so yes, my partner is also a man.  this is the first time i’ve ever announced it to the public, actually.”  as if that wasn’t the whole point of today.

“at least your fangirls can keep their hopes up, then, yeah?  still got a 50/50 shot!  and i’ve got to say, i feel honored you trusted me and my show with a milestone like this.  coming out certainly is a big deal, or at least nerve wracking!  how do you feel?” she laughs.  “is it like a weight lifted from your shoulders?”

“i was never too stressed about it.”  lies.  “some will hate, sure, but my job is the game.  if my fans are true then this won’t change that.  speaking of,” and then it’s back to exy.

wymack drives them back to palmetto, and when they’re close enough he says, “i’m proud of you for doing that.”

“thanks.”

“where am i dropping you off?”

kevin knows andrew and neil probably watched the interview, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever they’ve got to say about it.  so wymack drops him at dalton’s who hugs him as soon as he opens the door.

“you watched?”

“of course.”  he kisses his cheek.

all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!

extra content

#kevin day #bisexual kevin day #kevin #day #exy #aftg #tfc #OC: dalton miller #dalton miller #kevin day x dalton miller #original character #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #matt boyd #dan wilds #allison reynolds #renee walker #david wymack #abby winfield #the foxhole court #the foxes #Palmetto State #palmetto state university #Palmetto State Foxes #the one where someone doesn't know who kevin day is

[qitwrites]

|| 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 

Momo is 13 when she gets her first period.

Her parents had talked to her about it of course, told her it was completely natural and normal and healthy, and to come to them when it happens.

What nobody was prepared for was the pain.

She’s in the family garden creating some Lego blocks for herself when a bout of cramps, sharp and intense, roils through her abdomen and up her left leg. It’s so sudden she can barely call for help, and by the time the guards reach her, she’s on the ground sobbing, clutching her stomach and shakily taking in gasps of air.

They tell her it’s a combination of her diet and her genes. The high-fat diet has consequences, no matter how much she uses her quirk to balance it out and her father’s side of the family has a history of debilitating period pains. It’s just really bad luck, or so they tell her.

Of course, this doesn’t deter Momo from her plans of becoming a pro-hero. It’s all she wants. So, it’s what she chases and works for and earns.

The period pains get worse.

Class 1A doesn’t notice for the longest time. Momo is good at hiding it, at hiding how often she uses the loo for the first two days, how much pain she’s biting back in class, how badly she’s performing in training. She practices her smile in the mirror, sits through hours of class and training and socializing with a smile plastered on her face, and screams into her pillow at night. She spends those nights on her bathroom floor, alternating between throwing up and enjoying the cool feeling of the tiles underneath her.

Nobody realizes until Momo doesn’t show up for class one day.

Of course, everyone is immediately concerned- Momo isn’t one to skip. She takes the best notes, has perfect attendance, submits her assignments on time, the works. First period passes like that, and Aizawa even brings it up but nobody knows where she is. She hasn’t messaged a soul or called anyone about anything.

They’re on break after second period when Todoroki finds her on the staircase landing between the first and second floor.

Momo is on the ground, laying on her side. Her hand is in her mouth, blood dripping down her skin as she clenches it tightly between her teeth. Her other hand is wrapped around her abdomen, squeezing tightly. Tears stream down her face continuously, like an endless river. She’s muffling her screams, and it’s almost like she can’t even see Todoroki, her gaze piercing straight through him.

Todoroki is immediately alarmed, getting to his knees in front of her. He looks over her and can’t see any physical injuries, any signs of trauma.

‘Yaoyorozu,’ he says urgently, ‘what’s going on?’

Momo blinks at him, some of the tears dispelling. She finally sees him, recognizes him, and gasps. She pulls her hand away and the tears spill again.

‘I can’t-‘ she starts and sucks in a sharp breath ‘-I can’t breathe. I can’t- there’s too much pain fuck.’ Todoroki raises his brows- Momo never curses. Never. Not even when she stubbed her toe against the dining table and broke it.

‘We have to get you to recovery girl,’ Todoroki says, moving to help her up.

‘Wait,’ she groans. ‘I need- dammit, Todoroki let me borrow your left hand for a moment please.’

Todoroki complies without question, and watches as she takes it and places it on her abdomen above her uniform.

‘As hot as you can go,’ she says, ‘without burning my uniform. Please.’

Todoroki has no idea what’s going on, but he does as she asks. The effect is almost immediate- her breathing evens out, her eyes focus again, her body stops jerking in pain. It’s almost like she’s been sedated.

After nearly 2 minutes of sitting in silence, she gently takes Todoroki’s hand and places it on his own knee. She sits up gingerly and wipes away her tears, smearing some of the blood on her cheeks instead. Todoroki watches her carefully, ready to step in if she asks for help.

‘What happened?’

Momo looks at him with sad eyes. ‘It’s just my period cramps Todoroki. I’m ok, I’ll be alright.’

Todoroki quirks a brow. ‘You’re not ok Yaoyorozu, even I can tell just by looking at you.’

Momo is about to voice another protest when the door to the stairwell bursts open. Bakugou and Kirishima walk through with vending machine drinks in their hands and stop when they spot the pair on the floor.

‘Yaomomo?’ Kirishima shouts, running towards them. Bakugou trails just behind, eyebrows furrowed.

Momo plasters a smile on her face, trying to hide her bloodied hand.

‘What happened?’ Kirishima yells, crouching down with a concerned look in his eyes.

‘I-‘

‘She said it’s period cramps,’ Todoroki interrupts. In all honesty, he never grew up around his mother or his sister, so he has limited knowledge of periods in general. But with that limited knowledge also came the lack of a stigma towards periods in general. He doesn’t think anything of talking about it.

Kirishima’s concerned look melts into one of sad understanding.

‘Oh man,’ he says, ‘that sucks Yaomomo. They’re that bad, huh?’

Momo keeps her smile in place. ‘Really, I’m fine, it’s nothing I cannot handle, I’m ok-‘

A hand, absurdly gentle, pulls her bloodied one away from where she’s hiding it. Momo startles when she sees Bakugou holding her hand, giving her a tight look. He drops it gently and sighs. With a grunt, Bakugou sits down next to her, back leaning into the wall. Kirishima sits cross legged in front of her while Todoroki sits on her other side.

‘My old hag,’ Bakugou grumbles, ‘has period pains. More like period torture, I guess. She threw up every month on the first day. She’d have dark circles from the lack of sleep, and she’d slap hot water bags to her stomach 24/7. She even burned the skin there a few times. Painkillers didn’t do shit, there were no surgical options, not even birth control made much of a dent. She’d just grit her teeth and bare it every month.’

Momo listens silently, her hands slowly unclenching.

‘My moms,’ Kirishima pitches in, ‘are pretty chill with it. Well, Mama’s get really bad sometimes, but mom is usually ok. I’ve seen them bring each other ice-cream or squeeze each other’s shoulders. They sync up a lot too! Mama would always tell me to be nicer to mom, and mom would always tell me to give mama a kiss. They’re both so manly when they battle their periods every month.’ He offers Momo a gentle smile.

Todoroki hums. ‘I admit, I don’t know much beyond the biological part of it. But from what I can see, Yaoyorozu, this isn’t very normal, is it? This level of pain?’

Momo sighs, brushing away the fresh tears welling up in her eyes.

‘I, between my quirk and my genes, I have received the shorter end of the stick. Of course, I have looked into treatments. There’s nothing I can fix with surgery, and painkillers are usually ineffective. I have tried birth control measures, but they interfere with my quirk.’

Momo looks up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t think we talk about this enough, about heroes that menstruate. I can’t stop being a hero on the days I have my period, but sometimes, I’m in so much pain I can’t see straight. I-‘ she sucks in a stuttering breath ‘-I don’t know what to do sometimes. I want to stand on equal footing with my peers.’

Bakugou scoffs. ‘You shitting me? You’re top of the class, your quirk can make fucking canons, you tutored our fuckwit classmates into not failing miserably, and you did it all through this shit? What part of that is not equal with your peers?’

Kirishima nods in agreement. ‘I mean, Mina has some cramps too, so I usually bring her hot water bags when she asks. I read somewhere that spinach is great for period health, so I make us both protein shakes with spinach and banana! She says it helps.’

‘The iron in spinach must be beneficial,’ Momo muses, her face breaking into the first genuine smile of the day. ‘I usually up my iron intake as well. It does help.’

‘You’re right though,’ Todoroki adds, eyebrows furrowed, ‘we don’t talk enough about heroes that menstruate. Plus, the fact that you can’t seem to find a way to manage your pain without it affecting your life is proof that they haven’t put much thought into it, isn’t it?’

Bakugou grunts in agreement. ‘My hag volunteers at women’s shelters and tries to raise funds for pain meds and hygiene supplies and shit. It’s ridiculous. All of that shit should be free. No one asks to have a period every month.’

‘We can change that though,’ Kirishima pipes in, always the voice of positivity. ‘Look at the four of us, talking about it! Yaomomo, I’m sorry.’

Momo blinks, ‘What for Kirishima?’

‘For not noticing! You must’ve been in so much pain all this time, huh? I’m sorry for not noticing and doing more.’

Momo feels something cold press against her arm. She looks down to see Bakugou pushing his unopened drink into her elbow.

‘Take it, staying hydrated helps with the cramps.’ He stands up and brushes his pants. ‘Think you can stand?’

Momo takes a sip of the drink, relishing the cold fizzy burn as it slides down her throat. She takes a deep breath and stands, stumbling a little before catching herself. Todoroki steadies her around the elbow.

‘Can we take you to recovery girl?’

Momo smiles warmly. ‘I’ve been already. We’ve been working together on some remedies. It’ll take time, but I hope we can come up with something.’ Momo hums. ‘I should put more work into this. I can’t be the only hero that faces such bad period pains.’

‘That’s so manly Yaomomo!’ Kirishima beams. ‘I’m kinda dumb so I don’t think I can help with the research but let me know if there’s anything else I can do.’

Momo giggles into the back of her hand and they start moving towards class together. As they reach the top of the stairs another bout of cramps settles into her gut, and she clenches the railing with a white knuckled grip.

The boys stand around, guarding her, supporting her, giving her small smiles and reassuring nods. Todoroki offers her his hand again, and she quickly makes a heating pad and hands it to him, so she can continue to use it during class. Bakugou urges her to drink more water, and Kirishima keeps telling her how manly she is.

When they get to class, everyone crowds around her and she laughs softly, promising to explain everything later. The rest of the day passes by with little incident, and throughout it all, Todoroki takes the heating pad from her, heats it up and hands it back, hour after hour.

They talk about it in the dorms after class, and recounting her episode opens the floodgates for all the girls.

‘I get really bad migraines,’ Uraraka sighs, rubbing at her temples as if in anticipation. ‘It makes the nausea from my quirk even more unbearable.’

Jirou nods. ‘I get you. I have leg cramps, makes it impossible to use my legs during heartbeat surround. The speakers are too painful to use, and I’m never as stable as I’d like to be.’ She gives Kirishima a pointed look. ‘I’ll join you at the gym next time, teach me some leg moves. I want to get stronger.’ Kirishima gives her a huge thumbs up and a blinding grin.

‘My back gives out sometimes,’ Mina says. ‘I have this pain that burns in my lower back on a few occasions, it’s the worst.’

‘I don’t have a lot of physical symptoms,’ Hagakure pipes in, ‘but I do have PMS and depressive episodes. I’ve been trying to figure out a good med balance to fix it.’ All the girls nod at that, squeezing her arms and shoulders in silent support.

The teachers are brought into the loop too, and Aizawa gently berates Momo for not coming to him sooner.

‘We’re here to help,’ he says, eyes the gentlest she’s ever seen. ‘Learn to rely on your teachers more, will you? Such troublemakers , the lot of you.’

Momo makes hot packs for the girls after that, and the teachers don’t blink when one of them passes it to Todoroki in the middle of class as the boy just heats it the appropriate amount before passing it back without so much as a hiccup in his work.

Bakugou sends Momo articles and tips from his mom about pain management and dealing with cramps. He says it’s because he wants her to be in top condition when he beats her for #1, otherwise it won’t, in his eloquent words, mean jack shit. Momo tries some stuff out, happily surprised when her symptoms are even the slightest bit reduced. Kirishima offers to make them all spinach shakes, and they take him up on that every so often, complimenting his limited cooking abilities.

And on the days Momo is back on the bathroom floor heaving into the toilet, Jirou holds her hair back. Mina cuddles her on the couch when her hands are clenched as she bites back tears, and Ojiro sits by her feet, a reassuring presence to depend on if she ever needs something.

They’ve still got a long way to go as a society, but it’s a start. And a damn good one at that.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha: thicker than blood #momo yaoyorozu #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #class 1a headcanons #so today in thicker than blood #lets talk periods! #there's no talk of blood or anything #it's more about period cramps #and how period pain manifests in different but very painful ways #i've thought about this a lot you know? #like the female heroes can't just take a few days off every month on their period but they'd still be in so much pain #and in my country period products are still taxed as luxury items which is a load of fucking horsecrap #i have feelings about this because my own periods are pretty shite tbh #i just wanted to write about the boys actually caring #and having an open discussion about this #and give momo some love because she's actually great???

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 2

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,600ish

Summary: Your second day as an intern continues.....

You were trying not to make it obvious that you were hurrying down the hall. But you were pretty sure you were failing miserably. As you continued, without looking back, a hand suddenly grabbed your upper arm and pulled you into an on-call room.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, stumbling through the door. You looked to see that it was Steve—Dr. Rogers. “Dr. Rogers—“

“Dr. Rogers?” He repeated, sounding a little hurt. “This morning it was Steve. Now it’s Dr. Rogers.”

“Dr. Rogers, we should pretend it never happened.”

“What never happened, you sleeping with me last night? Or you throwing me out this morning? Because both are fond memories I’d like to hold onto.”

“No. There will be no memories. I'm not the girl in the bar anymore, and you're not the guy. This can't exist. You get that, right?”

“You took advantage of me and now you want to forget about it.”

“I did not take—“

“I was drunk, vulnerable and good-looking and you took advantage.”

You gave him a tight smile. “Okay, I was the one who was drunk, and you are not that good-looking.”

“Well, maybe not today. But last night, last night I was very good-looking. I had my blue shirt on, my good-looking shirt, you took advantage.”

“I did not take—“

“You want to take advantage again? Say Friday night?”

“Did you just— No! You're an attending. And I'm your intern. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you’ve seen me naked.” 

Steve simply smirked. “Well, I have.” 

“Dr. Rogers. This is inappropriate. Has that ever occurred to you?”

You quickly left the room, leaving Steve staring at the shutting door with a sigh. He stepped out and over to the nearest nurses station.

“Oh, no,” another doctor came up, handing papers over to a nurse behind a desk. “I’ve seen that look before… I know that look, I think I invented it.”

“Oh shut it, Tony,” Steve said, coming up beside him.

“You know you—“

“I said shut it, didn’t I?”

“Okay, okay.” Tony held his hands up in defense. “I’ll shut it. Just don’t come whining to me when it all blows to hell.”

~~~

Deciding you needed to get your mind off Dr. Rogers, you went up to the OR gallery. You were sitting with other interns, watching Scott Lang prep for surgery.

“He’s going to faint,” one of the interns commented. “He’s a fainter.”

“Naaah, code brown,” another one added. “Right in his pants.”

“He’s all about the flops. He’s going to sweat himself unsterile.”

“Ten bucks says he messes up the McBird,” a third one said.

“Twenty says he cries,” Natasha, who you were seated by, said.

“I’ll put twenty on a total meltdown,” the second intern added.

“Fifty says he pulls the whole thing off,” you interrupted, fed up. Everyone looked at you, silent, while your eyes remained on Scott. “That’s one of us down there. The first one of us. Where’s your loyalty?” 

There was a brief pause before Natasha continued, “Seventy five says he can’t even ID the appendix.”

“I’ll take that action,” Val responded, others agreeing.

“Okay, Lang,” Maria Hill said in the OR, which you could hear in the gallery. “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Here it comes,” you whispered, trying to be hopeful.

“Scalpel,” Scott requested, hand out.

“Scalpel,” a nurse replied, putting the instrument in his hand.

As Scott took it, the interns cheered from in the gallery. Dr. Hill quickly motioned for them to shut up.

“That Hill, she’s trouble,” Val commented, causing some interns to laugh.

“More pressure,” Hill advised as Scott got ready to cut. “Human flesh is a tough shell, dig in.”

“Pick-ups,” Scott requested after cutting.

“Pick-ups,” the nurse responded.

“Clamp.”

“Clamp.”

“Met some bone. I’m there.”

“Damn, he got the peritoneum and he opened him up,” a male intern commented.

“I told you,” you gloated. “He’s going to pull it off.”

“Scalpel,” Scott requested.

“Scalpel,” the nurse responded.

All of the interns watched with bated breath as Scott preformed the procedure.

“Appendix is out,” Scott stated, tossing it into a tray while the interns cheered.

“Not bad,” Hill commented.

“Thank you.”

“Now all you have to do is invert the stump into the chum and simultaneously pull up on the purse-strings but be careful not to—“ a rip sound came through “—break them.” Hill groaned. “He ripped the cecum. Got a bleeder. You’re filling with stool, what do you do now?”

“Uh.. uh….”

“Think. You start the suction, and you start digging for those purse-strings before she bleeds to death. Coulson, give him a clamp.”

“BP’s dropping,” a nurse informed.

“He’s choking,” Natasha stated.

“Come on, Scott,” you whispered.

“Today,” Hill urged, getting irritated. “Pull your balls out of your back pocket, let's go. What are you waiting for, suction?” Beeping started.

“Getting too low folks,” the nurse said. “Dr. Hill…”

“Get out of the way,” Hill said, pushing Scott over to take his place. “Pansy-ass idiot. Get him out of here. Suction… Clamp.”

“007,” the male intern from before stated.

“007,” another intern repeated. “Yep, that’s a total 007.”

“What’s 007 mean?” Val asked.

“Licensed to kill,” you answered.

~~~

A few hours later, you and the rest of your intern group had found a basement hallway with empty beds along it. You all decided it was a nice place to lay low for a moment.

“007,” Scott muttered. “They're calling me 007, aren't they?”

“No one’s calling you 007,” you and Clint responded.

“I was on the elevator and Quill whispered 007.”

“Oh, how many times do we have go through this, Scott, five, ten?” Natasha was fed up. “Give me a number or else I'm going to hit you.”

“Quill whispered 007 and everyone laughed.”

“He wasn’t talking about you,” Val said.

“You sure?”

“Would we lie to you?” You asked.

“Yes.”

“007 is a state of mind,” Natasha said.

“So says the girl who finished top of her class as Stanford.”

All of their pagers went off, causing them to look down at them.

“Oh man,” you grumbled. “It’s 911 for Savannah Chase. I gotta go.” You ran off, leaving the rest of them there.

“Maybe I should've gone into geriatrics,” Scott continued. “No one minds when you kill an old person.”

“Surgery is hot, it's the Marines, it's the macho, it's hostile, it's hardcore,” Natasha said. “Geriatrics is for freaks who live with their mothers and never have sex.”

“I’ve got to get my own place.”

“Same,” Clint agreed.

~~~

Running into Savannah’s room, you immediately noticed that she was sitting up, reading a magazine.

“Took you long enough,” Savanah said.

“You’re okay?” You huffed, trying to catch your breath. “The nurse paged me 911.”

“I had to go all Exorcist to get her to even pick up the phone.”

“Wait. There’s—There’s nothing wrong with you?”

“I’m bored.” She shrugged. “I thought you could help me.”

“You little— I’m not your personal assistant.”

“You don't have to wig out. The pageant's supposed to be on cable, but this crappy hospital doesn't get the channel. If that cow Casey Childs is gonna walk off with my crown, I have to see it. Can you call someone?”

“Okay. This is an actual hospital. There are sick people here. Go to sleep, and stop wasting my time.”

“But I can't sleep. My head's all full.”

“That's called thinking. Go with it.” 

You stormed off. If this is how the patients were all the time, you didn’t know how much longer you could last. And it was only your first day, of your intern year.

~~~

Hours later, you were standing at a nurses station, working on paperwork for a patient, while you overheard another conversation.

“4B’s got post-op pneumonia,” it was a male intern from before. “Let’s start antibiotics.”

“Are you sure that’s the right diagnosis?” A male nurse questioned.

“Well I don't know, I'm only an intern. Here's an idea, why don't you go spend four years in med school and let me know if it's the right diagnosis. She's short of breath, she's got fever, she's post-op. Start the antibiotics.” The intern walked over to you, clearly checking you out. “I hate nurses. I’m Peter. I’m with Sam Wilson, you’re with Gamora, right?”

“She may not have pneumonia, you know. She could be splinting, or have a PE.”

“Like I said, I hate nurses.” Peter began to walk away.

“What did you just say? Did you just call me a nurse?”

“Well, if the white cap fits…”

You groaned as your pager beeped, turning away to not have to see Peter anymore. “Damn it, Savannah.” You left, not an any hurry to get to Savannah’s room.

“She seeing anybody?” Peter asked Clint.

“I don’t know,” Clint replied.

Peter whistled. “She’s hot.”

“I'm friends with her. I mean, kinda friends, I mean, not, you know, actually friends, not exactly, but we're tight. We hang out. I mean, really only just today—“

“Dude.”

“—but—“

“Dude. Stop talking.”

~~~

You took your time getting to Katie’s room. As you walked up the hallway towards her room, you noticed nurses rushing in. That’s when you finally picked up your pace.

“What took you so long?” A blonde female nurse yelled as you entered the room, overwhelmed by the sight before you.

“She's having multiple grand mal seizures, now how do you want to proceed?” A male nurse asked. You froze at the doorway, unable to move. “Dr. L/N? Are you listening to me? She's got Diazepam, 2mg Diazepam, I just gave her a second ago, Dr. L/N, you need to tell us what you want to do. Dr. L/N!”

Still panicking, you picked up Katie’s chart. “Okay, she’s full on prazepam?” You asked.

“She’s had 4mg,” the female nurse responded.

“Did you page Dr. Gamora and Dr. Rogers?”

“Yes!”

“The prazepam’s not working,” the male nurse stated.

“Phenobarbital, load her with Phenobarbital,” you ordered, still struggling to move from your spot. The scene before you, extremely overwhelming.

“Pheno’s in.”

“No change,” a third nurse said.

“You paged Dr. Rogers?” You repeated.

“I just told you—“

“Well page him again! Stat!”

“What do you want to do? Dr. L/N, you need to tell us what you want to do!” The monitors started beeping. “Heart’s stopped!”

“Code blue, code blue! Code blue, code blue!” The first nurse shouted.

The nurses pulled out the defibrillators as your brain finally began to work again. You quickly took the defibrillators away from the nurse.

“Charge pulse of two hundred,” you ordered.

“Charged,” the nurse responded. “Clear.” You used the defibrillators on Katie’s chest, only to get no response. “Still defib. Nothing. 19 seconds.”

“Charge to 300.”

“300.” You tried again, only to fail. “27 seconds.”

“Charge to 360.” You tried again, with still nothing. “Come on, Savannah.”

“49 seconds.”

“At 60 seconds you’re supposed to admit her—“

“Charge again!” You ordered, the nurse not following. “Charge again.” The nurse does and you try again. On the monitor you see Savannah’s blood pressure (BP) register. “Anything?”

“I see sinus rhythm,” the first nurse replied.

“Blood pressure’s coming up,” the second nurse added.

“Alright now. Pressure’s returning. Grid’s coming back—“

“What the hell happened?” Dr. Rogers asked, running into the room.

“She had a seizure,” you responded, “and—“

“A seizure?”

“Her heart stopped.”

“You were supposed to be monitoring her.”

“I checked on her and she—“

“I got it.” Dr. Rogers started checking Savannah. “Just—just go.” You turned away, heading out. “Someone give me her chart, please?”

As you walked out of the room, you weren’t feeling the greatest. You were still overwhelmed and disappointed in yourself. Gamora was waiting for you not far outside the room.

“You get a 911, you page me immediately,” Gamora stated, “not in the five minutes it takes you to get to the emergency, immediately, you are on my team and if somebody dies it's my ass.” You kept walking, needing some fresh air. “You hear me, L/N?”

“Y/N?” Natasha called out.

You kept walking, ignoring everyone. Natasha followed you as you exited the main doors. It was raining outside, but you didn’t care. You leaned over and threw up on the patch of grass outside the hospital. Natasha watched from the doorway. Taking a deep breath, you wiped your mouth and headed back for the doors.

“If you tell anyone, ever…” You threatened Natasha as you entered the hospital.

~~~

Just after hour 24, all the interns were paged to the conference room. Looking around, you could tell everyone was exhausted. Natasha was sitting next to you, you furrowed your brows in confusion as you watched her.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m suturing a banana,” Natasha answered, “with the vain hope that it wakes up my brain.” Scott laughed from beside them. “What’re you smiling at, 007?” Scott immediately stopped laughing. “I’m sorry, I get mean when I’m tired.”

“You know what? I don’t care,” Scott said. “I comforted a family, and I get to hang out in the OR today. All is well.”

“Does anybody know why we’re here?” Clint asked.

“We’re probably all getting fired,” Val suggested. “And we’ve only been here for 24 hours. They’re going to get rid of the whole class and start fresh.”

“Well good morning,” Dr. Rogers greeted as he entered the room with Gamora. “I'm going to do something pretty rare for a surgeon, I'm going to ask interns for help. I've got this kid, Savannah Chase. Right now, she's a mystery. She doesn't respond to her meds. Labs are clean, scans are pure, but she's having seizures. Grand mal seizures with no visible cause. She's a ticking clock. She's going to die, if I don't make a diagnosis. Which is where you come in. I can't do it alone. I need your extra minds, extra eyes, I need you to play detective, I need you to find out why Savannah is having seizures. I know you're tired, you're busy, you've got more work than you could possibly handle. I understand. So, I'm going to give you an incentive. Whoever finds the answer rides with me. Savannah needs surgery. You get to do what no interns get to do. Scrub in to assist on an advanced procedure. Dr Gamora's going to hand you Savannah's chart. The clock is ticking fast, people. If we're going to save Savannah's life, we have to do it soon.”

All the interns grabbed copies of her chart and went their separate ways. You stayed sitting at the conference room table, trying to avoid helping with Savannah’s case.

“Hey, I want in on Rogers’ surgery,” Natasha stated, turning to you. "You've been the intern on Savannah since the start. You want to work together? We find the answer, we have a fifty-fifty chance of scrubbing in.”

“I'll work with you, but I don't want in on the surgery,” you replied. “You can have it.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the biggest opportunity any intern will ever get.”

“I don’t want to spend any more time with Rogers than I have to.”

“What do you have against Rogers?”

“If we find the answer, the surgery’s yours. Do you want to work together or not?”

Natasha grinned, nodding her head. “Oh yeah.”

~~~

“Well, she doesn't have anoxia, chronic renal failure or acidosis,” Natasha stated while you and her were seated at a table in the medical center’s library. “It's not a tumor because her CT's clean. Are you seriously not going to tell me why you won't work with Rogers?”

“Nope,” you replied. “What about infection?”

“No. There's no white count, she has no ceteal lesions, no fevers, nothing in her spinal tap, just tell me.”

“You can't comment, make a face, or react in any way.” Natasha gave a slight nod. “We had sex.”

Natasha’s mouth opened in surprise before she quickly closed it. “What about an aneurysm?” She continued, trying to do as you had asked.

“No blood on the CT, and no headaches.”

“Okay. There's no drug use, uh, no pregnancy, no trauma… was he good? I mean, he looks like he would be, was it any good?”

“What are the answers?” You ignored her questions. The truth was, he was good. REALLY good. The best sex you’ve had in, well, ever. “What if no one comes up with anything?”

“You mean if she dies?”

“Yeah.”

“This is gonna sound really bad, but I really wanted that surgery.”

“She's just never going to get the chance to turn into a person. The sum total of her existence will be almost winning Miss Teen whatever. You know what her pageant talent is?”

"They have talent?”

“Rhythmic gymnastics.” You both laughed.

“Oh, come on.”

“What is rhythmic gymnastics? I don't know - I can't even say it, I don't know what it is.”

“Isn’t it like something with a ball, and a—“ You suddenly went still, realizing what was going on with Savannah. “What? Y/N, what?”

“Get up!” You jumped up. “Come on!”

You explained to Natasha, as you both ran to find Dr. Rogers, that you believed she had an aneurysm.

“—the only thing she could possibly need is a—“ Natasha was saying as you found Dr. Rogers heading onto an elevator. “Oh, oh, Dr. Rogers! Just one moment, um, uh, Savannah competes in beauty pageants—“

“I know that,” Dr. Rogers responded. “But we have to save her life anyway.”

“Okay, she has no headaches, no neck pain, her CT's clean, there's no medical proof of an aneurysm—“

“Right.” Dr. Rogers stepped into the elevator.

“—but what if she has an aneurysm anyway?”

“There are no indicators.”

“Ah,” Natasha stopped the elevator, “but she twisted her ankle, a few weeks ago when she was practicing for the pageant—“

“Look, I appreciate you're trying to help, but—“

“This is not helping!” A doctor in the elevator shouted.

“She fell,” you tried. “When she twisted her ankle, she fell.”

“It was no big deal, not even a bump on the head,” Natasha explained, “you know she got right back up, iced her ankle and everything was fine, it was a fall so minor her doctor didn't even think to mention it when I was taking her history, but she did fall.”

“Well, you know the chances that a minor fall could burst an aneurysm, one in a million!” Dr. Rogers said. “Literally.”

The elevator door finally was allowed to close. You and Natasha looked at each other with a sigh before turning away. You’re caught by surprise when you hear the elevator ding. Turning back around, you see Dr. Rogers stepping out.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

“Where?” Natasha asked.

“To find out if Savannah’s one in a million.”

~~~

Getting Savannah’s scans done and back seemed like an eternity for the three of you. When the scans were finally up, it turned out that you had been right.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dr. Rogers commented.

“There is it,” the tech operating the scan pointed at the dark spots on the monitor.

“It's minor, but it's there. It's a cerebachnoid haemorrhage. She's bleeding into her brain. Let’s go.” Dr. Rogers led them out of the room and down the hall. “She could've gone her entire life without it ever being a problem. One tap in the right spot—“

“And explode,” Natasha said.

“Exactly. Now I have to fix it. You two did great work. Love to stay and kiss your asses, but I gotta tell Savannah s parents she's having surgery.” They reached the nurses station. “Savannah Chase's chart, please.”

“Here you go,” a nurse said, handing it over.

“Oh, and Dr. Rogers,” Natasha said, "you said that you’d pick someone to scrub in if we helped.”

“Oh, yes, right,” Dr. Rogers responded. “Um, I'm sorry I can't take you both, it's going to be a full house. Y/N, I'll see you in OR.” You looked at Dr. Rogers, who’s blue eyes felt like they could see right through you. Natasha was also looking at you, waiting for you to give her the surgery. “Good,” Dr. Rogers continued, “thank you.” Then he took his leave.

Natasha looked back at you, clearly pissed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You said that you didn’t want to work with him anymore, that if we worked together and found the answer, you’d give me the surgery.”

“Natasha…”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Don’t Natasha me. He looked at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and you couldn’t say no! You’re already wrapped around his finger and I’m not going to be a pawn in the game.” 

She stormed off. Leaving you standing there, knowing she was right.

~~~

Natasha and Val were sitting back in the empty corridor with the spare beds, again. 

“Val,” Natasha complained, trying to get Val to stop making excuses for you.

“Maybe Y/N couldn’t—“

“Val!”

“I’ll tell him I changed my mind,” you said, coming into the corridor. “You can—“

“No, no, don’t do me any favors. It’s fine.”

“Natasha—“

“You know what, you did a cutthroat thing, deal with it. Don't come to me for absolution, you want to be a shark, be a shark.”

“I’m not—“

“Oh yes you are. Only it makes you feel all bad in your warm gooey places. No, screw you. I don't get picked for surgeries because I slept with my boss. You know, some of us have to earn what we get.” Natasha stormed away, again.

“Wait…” Val said from behind. “You slept with someone… who did you sleep with?!” You groaned, resting your head in your hands. “Was it Stark? I’ve only met him once but he’s hot. But I’d only hit Banner and Hill too. Oh! Was it—“

“I’m not doing this.” You shook your head and walked away.

“I’ll find out soon enough!” Val laughed.

~~~

You went searching for Dr. Rogers, determined to give the surgery to Natasha. You found him shaving Savannah’s head.

“I promised I’d make her look cool,” he said upon noticing you. “Apparently being a bald beauty queen is the worst thing that happened in the history of the world.”

“Did you choose me for the surgery because I slept with you?” You quietly asked.

“Yes,” he quickly answered before a long pause. “I’m kidding.”

“I'm not going to scrub in for surgery. You should ask Natasha. She really wants it.”

“You're Savannah's doctor. And on your first day, with very little training, you helped save her life. You earned the right to follow her case to the finish. You… you shouldn't let the fact that we had sex get in the way of you taking your shot. Besides, it was very good sex. It should have given you a boost.”

“Dr. Rogers, I— ugh!” You quickly left, leaving him to chuckled to himself.

~~~

Clint and you were outside of the medical center, needing some fresh air. Clint sat on a bench as you paced in front of him.

“I wish I wanted to be a chef,” you said. “Or a ski instructor. Or a kindergarten teacher.”

“You know, I would've been a really good postal worker,” Clint said, dazed. “I'm dependable. You know, my parents tell everyone they meet that their son's a surgeon. As if it's a big accomplishment. A superhero or something. If they could see me now…”

“When I told my mother I wanted to go to medical school, she tried to talk me out of it. Said I didn't have what it takes to be a surgeon. That I'd never make it. So, the way I see it, superhero sounds pretty damn good.”

“We’re going to survive this, right?”

“We can only hope.”

~~~

You were standing at a nurses station, trying to fill in a patient chart, as Dr. Fury, the Chief of Surgery, was taking to Peter Quill, the intern.

“She’s still short of breath,” Fury stated. “Did you get an ABG or a chest film?”

“Oh, yes sir, I did,” Peter answered, a little bit too cockily.

“And what did you see?”

“Oh, well, I had a lot of patients last—“

“Name the common causes of post-op fever.”

“Uh… yes, sir.” Peter quickly pulled a notebook out of his pocket.

“From your head. Not from a book. don’t look it up, learn it. It should be in your head. Name the common causes of post-op fever.”

“Uh...the common causes of post-op…”

“Can anybody name the common causes of post-op fever?” Fury shouted to the whole floor. Everyone stopped, one girl pulling out her own notebook.

“Wind, water, wound, walking, wonder drugs,” you stated, causing everyone to look at you. “The five W’s. Most of the time it’s wind, splinting or pneumonia. Pneumonia’s easy to assume, especially if you’re too busy to do the tests.”

Fury gave Peter a pointed look before looking back at you. “What do you think’s wrong with 4B?”

“The fourth W, walking. I think she’s a promise candidate for a pulmonary ambulus.”

“How would you diagnose?”

“Spiral CT, VQ scan, provide O2, dose with Heparin, and consult for an IVC filter.”

Fury turned back to Peter. “Do exactly as she says, then tell Wilson that I want you off this case.” He turned back to you and Peter walked away. “Very impressive, Dr. L/N. Can’t wait to see more. Welcome to the gang.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

~~~

You were scrubbed in and waiting in the OR with the rest of those who would be on Savannah’s surgery before Dr. Rogers was. The OR and gallery were full, wanting to watch the one in a million brain aneurysm.

“Alright everybody,” Dr. Rogers said, coming in with his red-white-and-blue scrub cap on. “It’s a beautiful night to save lives. Let’s have some fun.”

You watched in awe as Dr. Rogers performed the surgery. It was the greatest thing you had ever witnessed and you longed to be more apart of it than you were. After the surgery was over, you sat outside the OR in a happy daze. 

“It was a good surgery,” Natasha said as she stopped in front of you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

Natasha sat beside you, sighing. “We don't have to do that thing where I say something, and then you say something, and then somebody cries, and there's like a moment—“

“Yuck.”

“Good. You should get some sleep. You look like crap.”

“I look better than you.”

“That’s not possible.” 

Natasha then took her leave. Dr. Rogers then came out of the OR. He stopped at the desk for some paperwork while you stared at him, still dazed.

“That was amazing,” you said with a shy smile.

“Mmm,” Dr. Rogers hummed in agreement, still working on the papers.

“You practice on cadavers, you observe, and you think you know what you're going to feel like standing over that table, but...that was such a high.” Dr. Rogers looked at you and nodded. “I don’t know why anybody does drugs.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

Dr. Rogers smiled back a bit. “I should go do this.”

“You should.”

He started walking backwards, unable to take his eyes off you just yet. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you around.” 

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #gamora x reader #peter quill x reader #nick fury x reader #scott lang x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #steve rogers imagine

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 10

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader 

Words: 1400

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obvious fighting and violence, mention of suicide

*I’ll be honest, this chapter is more of a fuller, substance chapter. If you wanted to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or chat. Thank you for everyone’s patience!

The hunt still left you plenty in your thoughts. It should be on helping in whatever way you can, but you kept thinking on your role here and how you clearly will never belong, no matter how to try to be kind and open to the culture, no matter how much you push away your own values and morals for these people. It will never matter. Rupert yelled your name, catching your attention. A man got hurt and you help mend what you can before instructing Rupert to bring him back to the village. Another scream, a different type of scream caused you to be pulled from you own thoughts of now and into the times of wartime. You charge to the scream, you found a man losing blood quickly, and a shot pulled you from your thoughts. The boar that did this must have been shot, “Mistress Y/L/N, am I going to die?”

 All the pressure and anger you felt subsided, “Hold of Geordie, let me look at you,” several clansmen surrounded you. Dougal showed up to hold Geordie as you tried to patch up his leg. Dougal and him were exchanging words when you saw the wounds to his abdomen. Dougal made eye contact with you and you knew he knew what you were saying. You pulled off the tourniquet, and grabbed his hand, “Geordie, the pain is going to be go soon, but while we wait, I have a bet with Angus.” Geordie looked at you the way many men have looked at you before in the Marine. You had to bring him peace in the time of his panic, “I bet Angus that the colonies had more beautiful sites than Scotland. Tell me about your home, what’s it like?”

 Georgie perked up as he told you about his home and you gripped his hand with all your might and continue to stroke his hair to help sooth him. And soon he was gone, you quickly got up and made your way to your horse. Before you knew what you were doing, you made your way to the castle. You needed some busy work, like stitching up the leg of the man who was also attacked by the boar. Afterwards, you walked outside to see the men playing field hockey, which you played for a few years in high school. This was far more barbaric, and you could see Dougal taking his rage out on Jamie. He could cope in anger, but if you did this, you would be gutted.

 You wondered who would win in a fight and you had no doubt Jamie would win. When you saw Dougal on the ground, a young girl from one of your lessons tugged on your arm, “Well hello Molly dear, you enjoying the gathering?” There is no reason to take your rage on children, they didn’t do anything wrong. Honestly, teaching them defense things and survival tactics was the most time you felt at peace, well except when you were with – never mind that thought.

 “Aye mistress, very much,” you smile down at her, “I heard about your ill-wish and I know who made it. They did not know it was intended for you when they gave it to the girl.”

Guilt hit your chest again, someone was scared you were going to hurt them for being an accomplice. You were letting the harshness of one person hurt your relationship with the majority, “You know who put it under my bed?”

 “Aye mistress,” she whispered, “You wouldn’t be telling my mother, would you? She wouldn’t be wanting me to get into others business.”

 You bent down to her level, “Tell you what,” you pull out your coin bag with most of the money you made for yourself while staying here – your escape money, “I’ll tell your mother you helped me collect supplies for the gathering, which is why I paid you all this. And you tell me who put it under my bed?”

 “Mistress, I don’t need your money. Girls aren’t allowed to learn the things you are teaching. You don’t deserve any ill-wishes. You’re lovely,” you smile up at her.

 You pass her the bag, “You’ve earned it dear, I keep my word. Give me the name and the money is yours.”

 “Laoghaire,” she whispered. You shot up, looking around completely shocked.

 “Alrighty lass,” you pat her on the shoulder, “If you don’t mind, I have business to take care of.”

 “Be careful, please,” she urged after you.

 You had a hyper focus again, you intended to kick her ass, like you reported. And you found her socializing where most of the clan put up tent for the gathering. You passed Murtagh and Jamie, taking off your sling bag off and your dagger from your waistband and handed it to one of them, “Murtagh, could you mind this for me?”

 “I’m not your errand boy, lass, and where you going that you won’t need this,” he questioned.

 “You’re a pretty face, Murtagh, you ask too many questions,” you sass to him, looking at your target. Jamie and him stopped leaning on a post, both putting their drinks down. They could clearly tell you mean business. “Hey, Laoghaire, you two faced, toxic bitch, I got your gift earlier and I would like show you my appreciation.”

 She had the audacity to give you a glare, before she realized she was in real danger. She started to step backwards, and the crowd started to grow around you as you moved closer to the girl, “Leave me alone, wench.”

 “Oh, you do have words now that you can use. I thought you might be too stupid to speak up and say something since you chose to instead use this voodoo bullshit to get at me. You want to bring me pain lady, let’s go at it,” you finally were within three feet of her. Before you could make a grab at her, she ran in another direction.

 You were about to put your running skills to work, when Murtagh gripped your arm, “Come on lass, you made your point let’s get you back to the surgery.”

 “You know what, I’m a little busy right now. But I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few, we can have some tea to cleanse our spirit, la de da and all,” you keep her in your eye sights. You were about to start your chase when you were tossed over a shoulder. Murtagh was carrying you back as you banged on his back. You were mad in this moment because you gave your dagger away to this meathead or he would have suffered from a few, no lethal jabs. He dropped you in the surgery room, “Damn it, Murtagh what the hell is wrong with you?”

 “With me, you were about to put a big target on your back. You’re a guest here lass, they don’t take too kindly to guests attacking one of their kin,” he leaned against the counter.

 You started to cry, and you usually do not cry, “Does it mean nothing I didn’t start it? Her action deserves a consequence. I watch all men here fight over nothing and here I am fighting against an injustice and my life is at danger. Do I not matter to anyone where? Should I just go to the tallest tower and jump?”

 “Don’t be so dramatic, an ill wish is nothing,” he urged to you. He didn’t seem too phased by the fact you were crying, though he did soften his voice to show sympathy, “I know you don’t believe any of nonsense. You are a smart woman.” You started to toss things about the surgery, organizing all the stuff you brought out for the hunt. Murtagh walked over to you and stopped you by gripping the top of both your arms, “Y/N, you matter more than you know. Stop this behavior, you’ll get accustomed.”

 “Murtagh, why do I always have to be the one to change? What do I have to do to feel like I belong here, how long will it take for people to believe I’m not an outsider?”

 He took a deep breath again, “I know it doesn’t seem it now and I don’t know how, but you do belong here. It’ll come in time. Until then, stop picking fights.”

 “Yes father,” you rolled your eyes, “Where is Jamie, I assume he has my bags and things?”

 “Aye, right now he is taken care of Laoghaire, so you needed be worrying about her anymore,” he said, making his way to the stairs.

 “Unless he has killed her and hid the body, I’ll keep to worry about her and her no good deeds, thank you,” you shouted at him. “And make sure Jamie brings back my things sooner rather than later.”

 And before Jamie could drop off your things, Dougal Mackenzie came down to share you would be journeying out to collect rent from the clan who wasn’t able to make it.

PART 11

 Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher @lovesanimals @bilesxbilinskixlahey

#Outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander imagine #Jamie Fraser #jamie fraser imagines #jamie fraser x reader #jamie fraser imagine #jamie frazier x reader

[futures-tense]

Would you be interested in writing a fic where Gwen has has the baby (and it’s Owen’s). The 126 are in the waiting room and tk overhears them joke about not letting this one near drugs or something and he runs out crying to Carlos and the 126 go to give Gwen and Owen a piece of their mind? Sorry it’s so long/specific x

This took me a long time, and im sorry, but I hope this is what you had in mind 🙃

also- unrelated- but this is how I found out that my sister and best friend learned to play poker while i was in the surgery once so fhfbf

TW: Substance addiction mention,

Since I Wasn’t Born Perfect//1.3k//

"Dad, drive faster!"

“Tk, I'm already speeding."

TK pursed his lips and trained his eyes on his mother again. "Breathe, mom."

"Owen, if you don't drive faster," she manages from the passenger seat. She's holding TK's hand tightly over her shoulder. "I swear to god, I'll-"

She lets out a cry and tightens her hold on TK, who winces slightly. He feels his phone buzzing next to him and he smiles at the name flashing across the screen.

"Hey, babe- ow!" He pulls his hand out of Gwyn's grip and switches his phone to his now throbbing hand.

"Is everything okay?" He can hear the concern in Carlos's voice.

"Yeah, sort of. I can't talk long though."

"TK."

He smiles slightly. "Mom went into labor; we're on our way to the ER."

"Oh," Carlos says. "Do you need-"

"No, finish your shift," TK insists as they pull up to the hospital. "I've got to go. Be safe, I love you."

"I love you too, cariño. Text me updates."

TK shoves his phone into his pocket and helps his mom out of the car. He slips into paramedic mode, spouting all the things that the doctor needs to know. Owen follows her but a nurse steps in front of TK apologetically.

"I'm so sorry, but I need you to wait in the waiting room."

He opens his mouth to argue but nods instead. She leads him to a room full of chairs and panicked families where he sits by himself, leg bouncing wildly. What feels like an eternity later, the rest of the 126 shows up.

"How's she doin'?" Judd asks, sitting next to him. TK just shrugs and tugs at the strings of his hoodie.

"They haven't told me anything yet." He frowns for a moment. "Did Dad call you guys?"

Paul shakes his head. "Carlos."

TK smiles. Mateo and Marjan sit on his other side and Mateo pulls out a deck of cards.

"Slap Jack?"

———

"I'm looking for TK Strand?"

After 13 excruciatingly slow hours, the words are music to his ears.

"That-that's me," he says, scrambling to his feet. "Is she okay? Is the baby? Did something go wrong? Is-"

"TK, let her speak," Judd laughs. The doctor smiles a little.

"Everything went fine; they're both okay." TK lets out a breath. "Do you want to go see them?"

"Yes, please."

"Alright, follow me."

When they get to the room, the doctor leaves TK standing in the doorway. His parents are watching the baby, oblivious to his presence. He smiles a little to himself, taking in the scene.

"Maybe this time we should keep the painkillers on the top shelf?" He hears his father say and TK feels like he was just punched in the gut.

"We can just wrap him in bubble wrap so he'll never need them."

He has never wanted to cry more.

———

Carlos looks around the waiting room, smiling as his eyes land on the members of the 126.

“Hey, any news?”

Marjan looks up from the card game she’s playing with Mateo. “They’re okay; TK just went back.”

He lets out a breath, “Thank god.” Someone bumps his shoulder from behind, rushing past him. “Sorry, I- TK?”

His fiancé turns to look at him and Carlos can see he’s on the verge of tears, relief and pain mixing in his eyes.

“Whoa, whoa, what happened?” TK ignores his question and instead hugs him tightly, burying his face in Carlos’s shoulder. Carlos looks around at the crew- hoping for answers- but they’re all just as confused as he is. “Okay, cariño, you have to talk to me. How can I help?”

“They’re making jokes,” TK mumbles. Carlos frowns and moves back, cupping TK’s face in his hands. The paramedic wipes his face with his sleeves, looking anywhere but at Carlos.

“What do you mean ‘they're making jokes?” Carlos prods.

“My- My parents,” he hiccups out. “They're making jokes about-about painkillers a-and-and bubble wrap- and about not fucking this kid up.”

Carlos can feel his blood boiling as TK breaks down in his arms. He pulls him close, shooting a look at Judd- who looks like he’s about to hit someone.

“Take a breath, Ty,” Carlos says, softly, pressing a kiss to his head.

Judd stands and starts in the direction TK just came from.

“Shit,” Paul mumbles as the rest of the crew get to their feet to follow. Carlos cards his fingers through TK’s hair.

“Hey, babe?” TK makes a noise, then sniffles, but doesn’t move. “I’m really proud of you.”

———

"Cap, you got a minute?"

Judd is leaning against the door to their room, arms crossed. Owen looks up from the sleeping baby in his wife's arms.

"Hey, you guys. Where's-"

"We need to talk."

Owen frowns and looks at the Gwyn and the baby before meeting them in the hall. "Where's TK?"

Marjan waves her hand dismissively. "You're making jokes about painkillers? What are you thinking?"

Owen stiffens. "How much did he hear?"

"No, Cap," Judd says, shaking his head. "That is not the point. You've got a kid who was in and out of rehab most of his teen and adult life and you're makin' jokes?"

Owen scoffs. "I don't need to get reprimanded by my employees."

“All due respect,” Paul starts, “but right now, we’re TK's friends."

"And we're going to treat you like any other asshole," Marjan says.

“Did you just call me an asshole, Marwani?”

She just shrugs. “You thought I wouldn’t call you out?”

Owen looks over the group. “Fine, will you go find TK, tell him I want to talk to him?”

“Carlos took him home,” Mateo says, looking up from a text from Carlos. Owen sighs and shakes his head.

“Okay, I’ll call him. On another note, thank you guys for being here.”

“Of course, Cap,” Paul smiles. “We wouldn’t miss this.”

Judd shakes his head and starts walking toward the waiting room again.

———

“TK, your phone’s ringing,” Carlos says from his place at the counter.

“It’s just my dad,” he mumbles dismissively, his eyes never leaving his computer. “What do you think about orchids?”
Carlos wipes his hands on a dishtowel and leans on the counter. “I think, you’re avoiding things. Again.”

“Mm, oh! What about hyacinths?” TK asks; the wide smile never reaches his eyes. “If we’re going to have a spring wedding, they’d be the perfect table… center decoration thingy.”

“You’re really not going to talk about this?” Carlos doesn’t know why he’s asking; he knows the answer. He’s been trying to get TK to talk to his parents all week. “Babe, your little brother is officially a week old and you have yet to meet him. All because you’re being stubborn?”

“No, wait,” Tk mutters, typing quickly. “What’s that one flower you like? It- like- represents your birth month or something?”
“TK.”
“Asters! Oh, babe, asters would be-“

“Tyler.”
TK trails off mid sentence, his fingers hovering over the keys. “Carlos, I don’t know what you want me to say. I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

Carlos moves around the table and slowly closes the computer, leaning against the table next to his fiancé- who keeps his eyes trained forward.

“I want you to be okay.”

TK tugs on sleeve and chews the inside of his cheek. “After what happened in New York...my dad was the one who pushed rehab, the-the therapy, who insisted I live with him, you know? And then...”

He makes a face- almost wincing- and sniffles. “Then, he’s making jokes about how I fucked up.”

Carlos covered his hands with his own. “Do you want me to arrest him?”

TK laughs and leans closer to press his head against Carlos. “Could you do that?”

“I can if I want to.”

“What would you charge him with?”

“I’m sure I can find something,” he shrugs running his fingers through TK’s hair. They lapse into silence. “What can I do?”

“You’re here,” TK mumbles, pressing a kiss to his wrist. “That’s all I need right now.”

———

Chapter 2

#tk strand #911 lone star #carlos reyes #tarlos #my fics #911 ls fics #judd ryder #mateo chavez #owen strand #owen strand (derogatory) #gwyn strand #marjan marwani #paul strickland #substance abuse tw #ask to tag