#this seriously needs to be beta-ed

[asxgard]

This is for Frank Langdon where the both of you guys are doctors in the hospital but in different departments. However after a long and busy day requiring the efforts of the entire hospital, in your guys make it home to your apartment and he accompany you in the shower for shower sex. Just to hold each other and be close after the long day

Slow | one shot

Dr. Frank Langdon x f!doctor!reader

Requested

Summary: It was a shift with all hands on deck. You’re thankful that at the end of it, Frank’s hands are all over you.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: Frank was interesting to write for! I think I might have a series brewing…

Also I’m not confident in my smut work, so I apologize if it’s lacking but I hope you like, anon!

Word Count: 1.1k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: afab!reader, SMUT (MINORS DNI), p in v, unprotected sex (seriously, wrap it up), mild angst, mild fluff, hospital setting, Frank is divorced, drugs?? what drugs, car crash victims/injuries of children, canon-typical gore, pet names (prettyboy, sweetheart)

not beta read

It was not unheard of for you to be down in the ED — for a consult, to bring a patient up to the ICU, or even just when you had a few minutes to spare. That was how you had met Dr. Langdon, over a pediatric patient who was going to need intensive care after a car accident. You had been down there to help stabilize before bringing him to surgery, where he would then come to the Pediatric ICU for the remainder of his stay.

Frank had been a livewire when you first met him, freshly divorced and on a downward spiral. His overtime was working overtime so he did not have to return to his quiet apartment. You weren’t exactly sure when something between you two clicked — likely somewhere between resuscitating a drowned little girl and sitting on the stairs hours later after she had been moved upstairs.

Neither of you really gave it a name, and with his divorce only months behind him, you had not wanted to title it. You weren’t really even looking for anything at the time, so being patient was not hard. Even as the months ticked on, you were content with late nights spent at his or lazy weekends at yours. No real dates, or anything concrete, but it was good.

The ED was a flurry of movement, of calculated chaos, bursting at the seams when you stepped off the elevator. It was usually those moments you questioned Frank’s sanity, for being able to thrive under the pressure of it all.

A mass pileup during the worst summer storm in recent memory had pulled a significant amount of doctors down to the ED, you included. You had heard a school bus full of kids had been involved, which was where you were planning to focus your attention.

To your relief, most of them had only been minorly injured, only one with a possible tibia break after being thrown from his seat. You moved your attention to the other patients, assisting where you were needed and assessing the kids who had come in.

You moved to get a suture kit for a head wound, and Frank stepped beside you. You did what you could to keep whatever it was between you a secret, but at the end of the day, you worked upstairs and didn’t particularly care about the ED rumor mill.

“Still expecting a few more ambulances.” He told you, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Anything serious?”

He shrugged, “Possible broken bones, and a severe laceration, I think.”

It was not just a few broken bones and a severe laceration. It was several. Add in the few slip and falls, a finger amputation, and some severe head injuries that had not been diverted to other hospitals, and you were back in the swamp. The influx never seemed to end and it made you want to beg for the sweet relief of the Pediatric ICU.

By the time you were back upstairs rounding out your shift, you were exhausted. Caffeine did little to pick you up and you wondered how Frank had been able to do that every day. Especially as a resident working extra hours.

He found you in the parking garage, lips in a smirk like he knew something you didn’t. And it was in the expression in his eyes that you found you were craving something equally salty and sweet.

Good thing Frank was both.

Frank’s lips were on you before you were even through the threshold of your apartment, hot, hungry and wanting. It was easy to fall into him, hands going into his hair while he helped you discard your scrub bottoms.

He had you against the wall beside the door, hands exploring, though as you bit his lip, he slowed down. Fevered kisses turned languid, beginning to take his time, which was a change of pace for him.

“You wanted to shower?” He breathed against your lips, his blue eyes piercing into you and making your stomach warm.

“The amount of shower injuries you must’ve seen surely should deter you, no?”

He smirked, “You’re no inexperienced rider, and I’m a professional.”

A brow quirked at his confidence, but it buzzed in your chest, “Oh, so you’re a professional now, prettyboy?”

“Oh, you think I’m pretty?”

You barked out a laugh, grabbing hold of his scrub top and pulling him to your bathroom. Clothes were discarded on the way, and something settled when the warm water hit your skin. Soft and unspoken, but known and quiet.

He held you close, arms wrapped around you in what felt like a tender moment. After such a long day, it was nice. His hand on your cheek, dragging his tongue along your lower lip before slipping inside your mouth.

You hummed when his other hand slipped between your legs, working slow circles on your clit. Your heart picked up and you hooked a leg around his hips, steadying your weight on him. He accepted the invitation, pushing you up against the tiled wall.

Heat was licking up your stomach before he was even inside you, growing buzzed on his mouth and the feeling of his hands on your body.

He kissed along your cheekbone, whispering in your ear, “You want me, sweetheart? Hmm, here?”

His fingers moved to your opening, teasing the entrance.

You moaned, gripping onto his shoulders. You attempted to move your hips, trying to gain more friction, “Fuck, Frank, please.”

You felt his smirk and he moved his head to look at you again, his eyes holding you steady. He trailed his hand along the thigh hooked around his hip, tugging it up a bit higher to allow him access. He braced one hand against the wall and moved just enough to line himself up, thrusting just enough to gain entry.

A low groan exited his throat, and you clenched around him. He didn’t move, just pulled your body closer, kissing along your jaw. You held onto him, enjoying the languid moment, relishing just how close you felt to him like that. Not just physically, but in a way that made your heart ache.

You kissed his shoulder and up his neck, adjusting your hips to take him deeper. He moaned and rested his forehead against yours, before he started moving — keeping his pace slow and deliberate.

You came undone wrapped around him, and he held you through it, never letting up or changing his pace. No words needed to be exchanged, just the soft moans and his low grunts. When his hips stuttered with his own release, he panted into your neck, still not letting go of you.

He swallowed and pulled back, eyes flickering across your face before a soft smile graced his lips.

“So you think I’m pretty?”

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that man is so pretty🥺

my requests are currently closed.

[lady-lostmind]

Oh, fuck.

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Heat/Rut and Main Card Prompt: Oh. Oh.

Rating: E | WC: 1179 | CW: A/B/O, Steve and Eddie are completely lucid when they consent in this regardless of Steve going into heat.

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

“Oh, no. No–no. Not now���” Steve groans in the back of Eddie’s van, hunched over and clutching at his stomach. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide as he flicks between Steve’s pained face and the road he’s whipping down. “What? What’s wrong? That doesn’t sound good! What–” Eddie’s mouth drops open with a whimper as he’s slapped in the face with the most delicious, sweet scent he’s ever smelled. 

Steve looks up and locks eyes with him, clearly mortified and scared. “I’m sorry, Eds. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Eddie looks back at him, confused. He shakes his head. “Steve, what–” And then it hits him. Really hits him. “Oh. Oh fuck.”  He slams on the breaks, pulling them off on the side of the road and turning to face Steve fully. “Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” But– it is. He knows it is. The tent forming in his pants absolutely knows it is. 

Steve lets out another groan of pain. “It’s early.”

Eddie scrambles to the back of the van and peers out the back window. No sign of anything catastrophic catching up with them yet. But they’re supposed to be the distraction. It was working. Vecna was sending all he has after them and now– 

Eddie turns back to Steve reaching out, hands hovering just above his shoulders. “What do we do?” 

Steve looks up at him with pleading eyes. “Make it stop. Please.” 

Eddie sucks in a deep breath his brain running a loop of ‘fuck–fuck–fuck–fuck.’ He shakes his head. “Steve. I can’t–” 

Steve whines, collapsing forward in pain. “I need you, Eds. Please.” 

Eddie looks out the window again and sees dark red filling the sky behind them. “Shit. We have to get out of here, Steve. I don’t know what to do. What do we do?” 

Steve looks up with him with pain filled, desperate eyes. “Knot me.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide, his jaw dropping open with a gasp and his treacherous dick fucking throbs. Everything he’s wanted for the last year is being offered up on a platter but– “Like this?” He gestures around frantically at the van. The situation. Because, seriously, how the fuck is this supposed to work.

Steve scoots forward and grabs Eddie’s hand tightly, glancing between him and the impending doom steadily coming toward them. “We need to get out of here. And the next step requires us being quiet–” He lets out another pained groan and then huffs out a laugh. “I don’t think I’m very capable of that right now.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “No, we can figure something else out! I’m not going to make you–”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Eds, come on.”

Eddie scoffs. “Come on, what? I’m not going to fuck you just because it’ll shut you up. That’s not how I–” He sighs, shaking his head, trying not to show how much it’s killing him to say no.

Steve tugs on Eddie’s hand, getting him to focus on him. “It’s not how I was hoping it would happen either, but–”

“Wait–wait–wait. You want me to–?” Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand. “Like, in a normal circumstance when your life doesn’t potentially depend on it,  you’d still…want to?”

Steve stares at him like he’s an idiot. “I mean, yeah. I thought we–” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls away. “I’m sorry if I read this wrong. But either way, I mean–” He gestures around, clearly annoyed. “We’re kind of running out of options here.” 

Eddie drops down next to Steve and cups his face, staring into his eyes. “Of course I want you, sweetheart. I just didn’t think you–” Eddie sighs. “It doesn’t matter. You’re right.” He glances over his shoulder. “But I’m still not sure how–” 

Steve cries out, doubling over again. “Fuck! Please, Eds.”

Eddie nods, stroking his thumb over Steve’s jaw. “Okay. Okay.”  He tilts Steve’s head up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “When this is over, I’m going to do this right.But for now–” Eddie reaches down to pop the button on his jeans open. 

Steve sighs with relief as he leans back and does the same, both of them quickly shedding their clothes. As soon as Steve’s pants are off, a wave of his scent hits Eddie and a growl works its way out of his chest. “Fuck, Stevie.” He lunges forward, his fingers dipping into Steve immediately, coming away covered in his slick. 

Steve whines and clutches at Eddie’s shoulders, climbing into his lap and sinking down on his– “OH FUCK. Oh shit. You feel so good.” 

Steve sighs as he settles on Eddie with a soft moan and presses his nose into Eddie’s neck, breathing deeply. Eddie’s hips jut up on their own accord, making them both shudder, pleasure rolling over them in waves. 

Eddie locks eyes with Steve and cups his face. “We have to make this quick. You ready?”

Steve nods, grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulders tightly. Eddie takes a deep breath and flips them over, slamming down into Steve as hard as he can with a low groan before pulling back and setting a quick pace, hurtling them toward the finish line as quickly as possible. He watches as Steve’s eyes go glassy, his body getting more and more relaxed as he lets Eddie take over and take the pain away. Eddie can feel his knot start to pop. Feels it start catching on every thrust until– “FUCK.” He slams in one last time, locking them together as they both fall over, Steve clenching down around him as he whines into Eddie’s neck. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve and leans them back so Steve ends up in his lap again. He glances out the window, his heart beating even faster when he sees the red looming ever closer. “Shit. Okay.” 

Eddie taps the side of Steve’s leg. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” Steve shifts his legs weakly, but manages to lock his ankles behind Eddie’s back. “Good job. You’re doing so good.” He runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, smiling a little when he nuzzles in closer to his neck. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Trying to focus. Trying to focus on the whole outrun certain doom thing instead of being inside Steve still. Which is honestly no easy feat since he’s pretty sure this is exactly how he wants to die anyway and– right. Focus. 

Eddie hikes Steve further up on his hips, getting an arm under him and kind of shuffling them to the front of the van. He pulls them up into the seat, rubbing his hand over Steve’s back when he whimpers from the movement. “Sorry, sorry. I have to get us moving.” 

Steve settles in his lap again with a content sigh, Eddie shakes his head as he tries to figure out how he’s going to drive with Steve on top of him. “Jesus H. Christ. This is insane.” He throws the van in drive and slams his foot on the gas, groaning when it shifts Steve on his lap. 

[words-are-fireproof]

Hour Two || Your Quiet Treason

A/N: My eternal thanks to my awesome beta @waxedpaperdoor! This chapter was a hot mess before she got ahold of it!

Summary: Stella sank into the bed, her gaze up at the ceiling. A tear rolled down her pale cheek and into her cornsilk blonde hair. Her breath hitched quietly. A long time ago, he would’ve reached forward and grabbed her hand, given her comfort as she cried and confronted the uphill climb she had to take. But now, he simply sat there, at a loss for what to say to make it better. He could say the usual. They had the best doctors and surgeons. She would get high-quality care. Her leg would heal, and she’d be bumped to the top of the transplant list if things went downhill instead of up. Robby just didn’t think she’d want to hear it. Or, maybe, he didn’t want to hear it, because he knew some of it was a lie.

Content: 18+ blog; mentions of drug use; medical jargon; drug overdose (minor minor character); medical tw in general; like seriously, please heed this medical tw, thank you; robby being robby; age gap; samira and robby growing close; abbot calling robby out on his shit; other stuff, i'm sure i'm missing.

[Prev] || [Masterlist] || [Series Masterlist] || [Next]

---

Robby found Samira in the staff lounge, sucking down water after taking care of a nursing home patient who had coded on the way to the hospital. He went to talk to her after Collins had cornered him to tell him about the transplant patient. She’d been moved to the middle of the ED, room 12, and he made a mental note to go check on her. He hoped Ortho would have been down already, but that was probably a fool's errand.

His steps fell silently on the hard tile surface, trying not to scare her, but the way his day was already going, it didn’t work. Samira turned around, choking a little on her water. He winced.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Dr. Mohan.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay, Dr. Robby.”

Robby knew better. She was trying to save face. He, meanwhile, didn’t know what in the hell he was doing. Why had he come in here on a busy morning? Had he seen her duck into the room after losing the patient? Or was it something else that propelled him forward? The way she had reacted in the patient’s room when he first arrived told him all he needed to know.

“I apologize for earlier.”

She blinked at him, breaking into a warm smile. Abbot was right. She was easily the smartest person in the ED. She was smarter than he was, that was certain. He admired her. Despite him still riding her for being slow, he saw shades of himself in her. Sometimes it bothered him. Sometimes that’s why he got onto her. Since PittFest, though, they’d begun to grow closer. He often cut her slack, well, tried to, and they worked together on the difficult cases. There were still days, though, like today. He tried to be consistently better. Tried to apologize. He just hadn’t quite managed. The guilt gnawed at him.

“Dr. Robby, you don’t need to apologize.”

“Sure, I do,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ve improved tremendously. You’ve gotten quicker. You’re more sure of yourself.” He glanced down at the floor, shuffling his feet a little.

Samira cleared her throat. “But…?”

He looked back at her. “No buts, Samira. Thank you. We need more people like you here.”

Her smile lingered, eyes shining happily in the light of the lounge. His heart tugged in his chest. Damnit. This felt too familiar to be comfortable. The dull ache in his lower back pulled him back to the present. He couldn’t do this. Not again. It didn’t matter how much his praise lit her up like a damn Christmas tree.

“Thank you, Dr. Robby.”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Well, we better get back out there.”

He turned to leave, but Samira suddenly called, “Wait.” He turned back to face her. “Can I get your opinion on something?”

Robby tried to temper his surprise. “Of course.”

He fully expected her to ask Jack instead of him. He wasn’t blind.

“There’s a patient,” she began, pulling him prematurely from his thoughts, “who came in before the code. Forty-year-old male presenting with sudden onset agitation, diaphoresis, chest pain, nausea, and cough. I ordered the usual. I’m waiting for it all to come back, but it doesn’t make sense.”

“What is your gut telling you?” He opened the door for her and motioned her out into the hallway. His hand brushed her scrubs at her lower back, and he tried to keep the blush from rising up his skin and into his ears.

If she noticed, she didn’t point it out or make a big fuss about it. Not that he expected her to. His fingers flexed, and he shoved them back into his scrub pockets.

She took a breath, her gaze falling on him as they walked. “Secondary psychosis. But I could be wrong.”

Robby watched her closely, pride welling up in his chest so high he felt like he couldn’t breathe. She’d grown so much as a doctor these past few months. Jack was right. He needed to lay off her.

“Chase that lead, Dr. Mohan. Get some more history on him. See if he has a history of MI or lung problems. Get a full medication breakdown.”

Of course, Samira already knew this. He couldn’t be sure why he was even saying it, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“He, uh, tried to throw the IV pole at me. Donnie stopped him before he could do any damage.”

Robby winced. Damnit, these patients. He understood the human condition after having been in medicine for–he tried not to think about it, but did anyway–thirty years. If anything, the mistreatment of medical professionals had escalated since COVID. Many hospitals and doctors’ offices had official posters that proclaimed assaulting a medical professional was a felony. That never stopped them.

He raked his hand through his hair. “You okay?”

Samira waved him off. “I’m fine,” she began, continuing through a pleased smirk, “Donnie got him with some droperidol. He should be sedated and restrained by the time I go back in there.”

Relief spread through him. “Come and get me or Jack before you go back. I don’t want anything happening to you. Not if we can help it.”

She nodded, that same little pleased smirk on her lips, as she turned toward the hub and made her way to a workstation to begin charting. He turned all his emotions inward, and he hated the way his gaze wandered and the way his limbs still felt warm from her smile.

“Robby,” he turned to face Collins as she called from just outside a patient’s room. “She’s a bit more alert.”

He didn’t need to look at the board to know she meant the transplant patient. He gripped his stethoscope around his neck to still his fidgety hands and approached her.

“How’s she doing?” He asked in a whisper before stepping into the room.

His dark gaze fell to the gurney as Collins whispered back, “Ortho hasn’t been down yet. She’s in a lot of pain.”

His mouth went dry as he surveyed the patient’s monitor. “You know to avoid morphine and codeine?”

“And to also avoid hydromorphone and oxycodone. I know.”

Of course she did. Heather Collins was the second smartest one in the Pitt. Second only to Samira Mohan. She knew all the ways this could go south and quickly if things weren’t done the right way. He wondered when the surgical consult would get there. He wondered if Shamsi or Garcia had even bothered to come down at all. Surgeons. He liked exactly two surgeons, and neither of them worked at PTMC.

“I thought this was your patient,” she continued when he’d been quiet for too long.

“She is.” He took a breath to steady himself. “Let’s start her on some low-dose fentanyl. See if that takes the edge off. And page Shamsi and Garcia again.”

Collins nodded and left him alone at the entrance of the woman’s room. He didn’t even know her name.

“Are you my doctor?”

He stepped further into the room and sank onto the stool beside her bed. “I am. My name is Dr. Robby.”

“Stella.”

“Well, Stella, we’re going to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

“Thank you.” Stella looked around the room and winced as she tried to move. “What happened?”

“You were in a car accident. You hit another person head-on.”

She paled, the beeping of her heart monitor ticking up. “Oh, god. Did anyone…” She trailed off, clearly unable to finish that line of thought.

Robby shook his head. “No.” The truth was far more complicated, and he didn’t know how the other patient was yet. “You broke your left tibia and fibula. They’re splinted right now. We’re waiting for an orthopedic consult.”

Stella sank into the bed, her gaze up at the ceiling. A tear rolled down her pale cheek and into her cornsilk blonde hair. Her breath hitched quietly. A long time ago, he would’ve reached forward and grabbed her hand, given her comfort as she cried and confronted the uphill climb she had to take. But now, he simply sat there, at a loss for what to say to make it better. He could say the usual. They had the best doctors and surgeons. She would get high-quality care. Her leg would heal, and she’d be bumped to the top of the transplant list if things went downhill instead of up. Robby just didn’t think she’d want to hear it. Or, maybe, he didn’t want to hear it, because he knew some of it was a lie.

“Do you know why I hit the other person?”

He looked over at her. “You’re in renal failure. You could’ve passed out while driving. We’ll order a CT scan to make sure it wasn’t anything else.”

“I have lupus,” she supplied suddenly.

“We have it on the chart. It was in your records when we looked you up.” He rolled over to the computer and scanned his badge, pulling up her chart with ease. “You take immunosuppressants?” Stella nodded. “We’ll get you on antibiotics. Your leg is–”

“Mangled?”

“Pretty bad, yeah.”

Stella breathed out a soft, mirthless laugh. “Could always be worse.”

“Thankfully, so far, it isn’t.” He logged off the computer and stood. “If you need any help, just push that button, okay? We’ll be with you as soon as we can.”

She swallowed thickly, clearing her throat as she murmured, “Thank you, Dr. Robby.”

He nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him as he did. He didn’t stop walking until he got to the stairwell. The expanse echoed with the nearby sounds of the ED as well as the ambulance bay. He tried to do the 5-4-3-2-1 move, but his mind raced. He couldn’t focus. Everything felt too loud and too silent all at once. His side hurt. His head hurt; the tension headache from two hours ago was already getting worse with each passing moment. Get it together, man, he thought sharply. They needed him. King, Whitaker, Santos, Javadi, they all needed him.

Robby shook his head, trying to clear it, when the door to the stairwell burst open loudly. He jumped. When he turned to look, he saw Dana in the doorway, holding it open.

“Robby, drug overdose. Trauma Two.”

He cleared his throat. “Where’s Abbot?”

“MVA in North 2 tanked.”

Fuck. That didn’t help matters any.

“Uh…Collins?”

“One of the overnighters.”

“Samira?”

Dana lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything about that. “I got Langdon.”

He adjusted his stethoscope, shoved his hands in his pockets, and clenched his fists. “Got it.”

“I can see if McKay is–”

“No, it’s fine.”

Robby pushed past Dana, ignoring the worried look on her face. Let them worry. Ten months and he was okay. He was taking a page out of Jack Abbot’s playbook. He was going to therapy. It was working. It was working. He just had to keep telling himself that. Maybe if he did, he–and the people around him–would believe it. As it was, he didn’t.

When he pushed into Trauma Two, the first thing he noticed was Mel and Langdon working in tandem over the somewhat small patient lying on the gurney in the middle of the room. At first glance, the patient–a man, a boy even–looked no older than fifteen. He was just a kid, a point further confirmed when two adults, both in their forties, came rushing into the room, hysterical. The mother’s sobbing made his teeth hurt. The buzz of pain at the back of Robby’s skull intensified.

“Get them out of here. Mel, take them to chairs.”

“Dr. Robby–”

“Just do it,” he snapped, then backtracked a little, voice softening a little, “please?”

Mel shucked off her gloves and disappeared through the glass doors with the kid’s parents. Frank’s protests rang in the ensuing silence. Robby tried to ignore them. He shook his head and focused on the patient. Perlah and Donnie worked quickly, hooking up the heart monitor as Princess worked on the IVs.

Frank took a breath. Robby’s gaze landed on him as he worked his stethoscope over the kid’s bare chest.

“He took Klonopin?” The younger man asked one of the lingering EMTs. “Shallow breathing,” he shot over to Robby.

The EMT nodded. “For seizures.”

Robby shone a light in the kid’s eyes. “Pupils are enlarged but responsive.”

“BP is low 80/60,” Donnie piped up quickly.

“Heart rate’s down too. Low 50s."

Jesse watched the two doctors closely. Robby felt it as he tried to focus and pay attention to not only the patient but also Frank, who took point.

“Get a blood gas, ECG, and portable chest. We need to make sure he hasn’t taken anything else.” Frank looked over at the EMT. “Narcan?”

“On the scene,” she replied.

“And it didn’t help? Give it to him again. Administer flumazenil. Let’s see if we can get him out of this.”

Robby shot Langdon a look. “Are you sure you want flumazenil?”

The younger man glanced over at Robby and nodded. “It’s the best course of treatment.”

“Is that you asking my permission?”

“What–” Langdon cut himself off, remembering the terms from earlier. “Uh, yeah. Yes. That's me asking for your permission.”

“Alright then, let’s get the flumazenil.”

Robby, Frank, and the nurses all worked in sync. Narcan delivered, flumazenil injected, and the team seemed to relax. The boy’s heart rate kicked up, but he was still unconscious. Robby rechecked the boy’s pupils, then looked at Frank to see what he would do further.

“Give him another 100 micrograms.”

Jesse did as told. The room waited anxiously, the heart monitor’s quick beeping the only sound in the room. Robby briefly thought that the tension could be cut with a scalpel if that were possible.

Then, the patient started seizing.

“Fuck,” it was Frank’s voice he heard first. “Propofol 1.5 mg. Laryngoscope. Six millimeter tube.”

“Don’t you mean seven?” Robby asked calmly.

“Yes, seven. C’mon, guys.”

Frank positioned himself at the head of the gurney, swept the boy’s tongue out of the way, and promptly intubated him. Donnie came behind him and bagged him with good tidal volume. The seizing stopped. The room breathed a sigh of relief, but the tension could still be cut with a knife.

“Let’s get him on a vent. See what else he might have taken, and get his parents back in here,” Robby broke the silence, but not the tension. “Don’t administer anymore flumazenil, and keep him hydrated.”

“When the tests come back I’ll find you.”

Robby nodded. “You better.”

The room was silent save for the beeping machines. The nurses looked between Frank and Robby with a mixture of uncertainty and fear. Frank could be cocky as all hell, and Robby suffered no fools. But Frank wasn’t a fool. Was that why Robby kept pushing him? He knew his young resident could do this. At least, that was before he caught him stealing patients’ medications for his own withdrawal symptoms. Now, he didn’t know what Frank was capable of, and that scared him.

He turned, shook his head, and reoriented himself to everything at hand. Then he degloved, trashed the gown, and headed back to the hub.

By then, Jack had returned from his emergency, his gaze affixed to the board as Robby signed into the computer nearest to him to begin charting.

“MVA in two?”

“Stable for now. Garcia’s handling her.”

Robby could feel Jack turn his gaze on him. He shifted in his chair, keeping his focus on the computer screen in front of him. “Say it.”

“What?”

“Say what you want to say to me.”

“Boys,” Dana piped up, like she knew whatever was about to happen would turn into an argument, “take it outside.”

Robby stubbornly refused to move and continued charting.

“Robby,” Jack’s voice cut through the bullshit, as it often did.

He forced back a growl, logged out of his computer, and immediately headed for the ambulance bay doors. He knew Jack followed. He could practically hear his footfalls behind him and the sound of his badge jingling at his scrub pocket.

The sticky heat hit him first. He tried to ignore it as he kept walking to the very edge of the ambulance bay. The rising sun cast shadows over the buildings around them. Robby tried to ignore the way his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He tried to ignore the sharp ringing in his ears.

“What is the matter with you?” Jack asked as he approached the railings they had both become so accustomed to.

“Me? The matter with me–”

“If you didn’t want Langdon back, all you had to do was tell HR.”

“That’s not–”

“Then what is it?” Jack leaned against the corner of the building, his eyes trained on Robby, not wanting to hear any excuses.

“He’s not ready.”

“He thinks he is.”

“He just made a patient seize, Jack,” Robby snapped.

“But he didn’t. Plus, we got him back. He’s stable now. We’ll continue monitoring him. He made a mistake. Mistakes happen.”

“Not after going through rehab.”

Jack’s gaze never wavered. Robby felt stifled under it. He shifted on his feet, finally tore his gaze away from his younger attending and best friend. The reservations from earlier hadn’t let up. It had been almost two hours of the shift, and he was even more fed up with Frank than before he started. He knew exactly why he didn’t want Frank back. He also knew exactly why he didn’t tell Gloria or HR to get rid of him. He knew why, but he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit it to himself.

“Apologize to him, get your head on straight, and let's rock this shift. Okay? Can we do that?” Robby clenched his jaw, but acquiesced with a nod. “Thank you. Now, c’mon. I think someone brought doughnuts this morning.”

Jack laid a hand on Robby’s arm and squeezed it. The familiarity shot a pang of sadness through him. It was enough, though, to ground him, to bring him back to reality. But he still felt…not all there. He laid his hand over Jack’s. Just for a moment, and then that was that. Jack pushed away from the building and disappeared through the automatic doors back to the ED. Robby stared down the street, closed his eyes, counted to ten…

And tried to swallow his craving for Fentanyl.

---

Aaah, yes, our problematic, sad fave is a hypocrite. But this is why we love him.

Please consider reblogging and commenting! It helps creators feel less like they're yelling into the void. <3

[epersonae]

when I wrote I spit on your grave back in the spring, I felt like it needed a companion piece, something to bring the crew in to understanding what Ed and Izzy's relationship was really like. (something to counter all of this in 2x2) but I never quite had a hook.

well, David Jenkins wrote his own little fanfiction for Christmas, and this post by @ourflagmeansgayrights and the addition by @thegreatzeldini, along with some discussion in discord, finally gave me the hook I needed.

Featuring Stede being both a real sweetie and an absolute bitch, Jim finding out about the Izzy mutiny for the first time somehow, and Ed Going Through It. Plus Captain Frenchie; it's been a while since I've thought seriously about Ed and Frenchie solidarity, and that was a delight to write.

Thanks to @veeagainsttheday for some mutual yelling in Discord and for an excellent beta as always, and to @frommybookbook and @emi--rose for helping me noodle through what I needed to land the ending.

[ao3feed-kiribaku]

A/B/O Sex-Ed

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/bGTKtcl by Unidentified_Dragon “We will start with Pack Bonds and what is appropriate socially and make our way through Intercourse, Mating Cycles, and Alpha/Beta/Omega tendencies since it seems you need the reminder.” Aizawa finished…this was going to be a long class period. Actions have consequences and because of [The Incident], UA has moved up the university’s sex-ed seminar, which Aizawa must now teach to the chaotic shits that are Class 1A. Or...Aizawa silently reconsiders his choice of profession while his students die from humiliation. AN: While you don’t have to read The Incident first you should. Words: 3579, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of ~The Way You Felt~ MHA (A/B/O) Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Multi Characters: Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Other Implied Pairings Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Humor, Sexual Humor, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, info dump, info dumping as a form of crack, Sex Education, intersex omega verse, we respect betas in this house, Class 1-A Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), POV Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Aged-Up Character(s), I'm working off and old headcanon spreadsheet so forgive me, Trigger warning - emojis, Alpha Hagakure Tooru, Alpha Satou Rikidou, Alpha Midoriya Izuku, Alpha Iida Tenya, Alpha Kirishima Eijirou, Alpha Uraraka Ochako, Alpha Asui Tsuyu, Alpha Shouji Mezou, Beta Ojiro Mashirao, Beta Kaminari Denki, Beta Sero Hanta, Beta Ashido Mina, Beta Jirou Kyouka, Beta Todoroki Shouto, Omega Bakugou Katsuki, Omega Aoyama Yuuga, Omega Yaoyorozu Momo, Omega Mineta Minoru, Omega Tokoyami Fumikage, Omega Koda Koji, Omega Shinsou Hitoshi, Omega Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/bGTKtcl

[lime-parfait]

Paranatural Parents: A Quick Analysis (Spoilers)

Please blacklist #long post for this because a “read more” will be unavailable if this blog were to be deleted in the future and it won’t be accessible.

Also no beta on this analysis

Anyways, been awhile since reading Paranatural seriously (ever since the story’s style changed to a text format it was harder to focus and read it). Anyways, there’s something that ‘clicked’ for me when reading some the recent pages. And it was simply that Paranatural is full of incompetent adults (no brainer). But specifically, it was full of incompetent PARENTS. Especially the ones who are involved in the whole world of spirits.

Okay, okay. Think about it. Isabel’s attitudes towards her family. The way that her grandfather finds ways to constantly point out her flaws and teaches her to use spirits as weapons. Isabel’s father, who we recently learned about, DOES want to care about his daughter, still chooses to be involved in the realm of spirits because he believes that Cherub’s words will help to make balance in the world. And yet, Isabel still doesn’t want to be around her father (based off the attitudes she has and it took a lot of strength for her to even ask her mom to drop her off). Isabel has something important to tell her father, but she reacts negatively when he doesn’t take her seriously. In a nutshell, Isabel has 2 guardian figures in her life who do not listen to her. Her grandfather wants her to be a disciplined warrior at the age of 12, while her father doesn’t seem to do his part in making communication between them easier.

Cody, his father was also involved in the Consortium. That man is a business man now and all he does is try to take property away from people. Back in the long (Jim the Brain)chapter, Cody is super hostile towards his father, who’s about to kill a spirit (because that’s what his father did back in the Consortium; stab spirits). Cody becomes cold and harsh, saying that the spirit was HIS to kill. Like, Cody took a deadly turn and it makes for a theory that his father taught him to be a cold-blooded killer towards spirits. But in the evidence, it’s vague why Cody feels this way towards spirits (we only got Davy saying that even though he wants to protect those he loves, Davy pulls out the ‘dad will take care of it’ card). Cody yells at him after that, forcing him to leave the school (due to vampire rules). It ‘s clear that Cody doesn’t his father to be on his turf  and that he can hold his ground at school (remember, he’s school president). But Davy and Cody have a family tension the involves in protecting what they care about from the ‘evil spirits.’ However, Davy probably failed really bad as a parent if Cody gave him death glares and yelled at him.

EDIT: another thing to consider is that Davy sees his son as a reflection of him (literally) and gets really pissed when Max counters his statement by saying that Cody isnt his mirror. clearly Davy cannot see his son as a son, but some sort of copycat that needs to follow in his footsteps.

Rick Spender (as an adult) is literally the worst at being a reliable person for the Spirit Activity Club, theres records of the way he failed to be there for most of the members. Failing to reassure and listen to Isabel and purposefully keeps isaac in the dark that sparked these two to fight each other because they were both hurting

Ed’s parents who were clearly part of the Consortium and they eventually met their doom WHEN Ed was BARELY 3 YEARS OLD. Ed’s parents weren’t there long enough to actually raise him and see him grow up. Like, they decided that it was okay to pass their kid off to a new guardian in the most nightmare fueled moments before they disappeared. They didn’t try to leave him have a happy memory, but planned to just erase themsleves from his memories??

There’s plenty of other parents who also failed to be decent parents in the story (they weren’t part of Consortium, but they existed and basically don’t look after their kids. Penny and her parents’ treatment towards her and the way they favored her brother. Where the hell is Isaac’s parents). But it seems that a lot of the adults who are deeply involved in the spirit’s world, often tend to overlook their own children. Most of them claim to want to protect their kids from it, only pushing them away and the kid feeling neglected. But in the end, working in the Consortium makes these parents see their own children as an after thought because they’re buried in this this work, only dragging their kids in the mess.

And let’s look at Max Puckett. His mother was part of the Spectrals and possibly in the Consortium. She must have seen this sort of cycle. All of these parents who had spectral kids and planned out their futures to live that sort of life. Isabel’s family planning for her to be a warrior. Ed’s parents accepting their doomsday fate as workers of the Consortium. Max’s mom looked at all of this and didn’t want that. She would not repeat this mistake as other parents of the Consortium. And you know what? She married Peter Puckett, a man who wasn’t a spectral, or a vampire, or a wealthy man. But here’s the thing that Peter Puckett had that every other parent lacked; emotionally availability and unconditional love and care.

Like, Dad Puckett didn’t give up on his kids when his wife died. He picked himself up and did everything to raise them. He accepts that Max is Max, a moody preteen. He gets into the same interest as he does (Insolent Children music) and get involved in his life. Yes, he seems like a manchild at first glance because of his happy attitude and not being that smart. But he can be serious about serious topics when needed. He takes both of his kid to a kids’ arcade in order to let them have fun and be able to ask if Max was being bullied in school. He doesn’t make it a joke either, Peter Puckett is direct and wants to make sure that Max wasn’t being bullied in school. Hell, Dad Puckett took Max to the hospital for a broken arm and everything and you see that his face was full of concern for Max’s well-being. He literally makes time just for his kids no matter what it is. Going to a concert? Yes. Going to the hospital and rushing to get there? Peter will not hesitate. Like, Dad Puckett found the strength to continuing being there for his kids after his wife died. He moved to a new town to begin a new life, he takes their physical and emotional health seriously, he is involved in their interests and he listens to his kids, he doesn’t put pressure on his kids’ futures, all he wants is for them to be happy and safe. No matter what bad happens, Dad Puckett will always make himself emotionally available for his kids.

EDIT: another thing that was interesting during a re-read was that Peter said that Max took after his mom in personality and humor, and honestly that checks out based on what we know about her. This contrasts to Davy treating his son as a mirror, but in reality, Cody is nothing like him. Basically saying that Mr. Puckett understands his son better than Davy assumes what Cody is.

Meanwhile, all of the parents of the Consortium are fighting against a doomsday and not actually thinking about what their kids need most is to be there for them.

To Mom Puckett: you chose the best husband who was more prepared to care about his children

[oatmilktruther]

hi 👀

for the "get to know your writer meme"...... I want to know all 77

BUT

I am restricting myself to asking you JUST the following: 4, 10, 20, 29, 39 (specifically, feel free to murder me with the fight club au), 54, 56, 64 (an answer I definitely won't use for nefarious purposes so don't feel the need to answer carefully)

AHHHH THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME SO MANY MY FRIEND

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

where dont i find inspiration…. everything reminds me of them EVERYTHING. but one of my biggest inspos is music i’ll listen to a song and i’ll be like. okay but what if this was about Them.

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

blinks is not in there and neither is blink. if you wanna pick another ill go looking for you.

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

well ed always has adhd and stede is always autistic but other than that no i havent noticed and i think its because every time i write an au im so deliberately trying to create a unique space that i almost develop my own set of language styles for it. it gets a unique texture. or maybe my stuff is super repetitive and i sound wanky as hell right now and i’ll take that too.

29. What’s your revision or editing process like?

well for one shots that are not super important to me ill reread a couple times just to make sure its legible, for longer one shots ill have s beta go over it and pick at it and ill actually chew on the edits and make sure i land what im trying to sell. for my long fic i wrote a first draft and then chapter by chapter i went “is this thematically consistent do i like how it sounds do i even like this” and i wrote and rewrote MANY pieces

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

HAHA IM COMING FOR YOU KATHERINE

from the not fight club au

“Exactly how he snaps up his gaze when Ed is still a few paces away, how his gaze falls on him, heavy like a steel toed boot, heavy like a string of someone else’s pearls around a neck, heavy like heavy like heavy.

Exacting as he steps forward, one, two, into Ed’s space, grips his hands into Ed’s jacket, one, two, steps back, twists, dragging Ed with him, one, two, until Ed’s pressed against the back of the car.

(Hungry) (it is hungry) (it is starving) (Ed’s own stomach growls)

There’s a beat where Stede waits, a beat where Ed nods, one, two, and then—

And then Stede kisses Ed.

(and then Stede kisses Ed) (and then Stede kisses Ed) (and then Stede kisses Ed)

And then Ed kisses Stede.”

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

putting my beautiful baby girl ed in situations. just lots of wish fulfilment playing with my favorite barbie.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

i really like that everything i write has distinctive voice in it. everything i write has serial numbers on it, like its definitely mine.

64. Something you love to see in smut.

as MCR once said (and its hilarious because this is genuinely the song thats come on shuffle as im typing this): Blood!

no seriously. blood. i love blood. gimme some blood.

[veronicaleighauthor]

3 for Fire By Night

Thank you for the ask! Not beta-ed, or edited.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Stand your ground. Claire reminded herself. Despite her fear, she couldn’t let him intimidate her. Otherwise, he would never take her seriously in the future. That, and he was lost. No matter how she might feel about him, he was a lost soul in need of love and redemption. He wasn’t beyond God’s reach. No one was.

That's a little more than a line, I guess.

Thanks again!

[ao3feed-itafushi]

Oops!

by Gay_Slay_DontPay In which Megumi didn’t get proper sex ed, so Nobara has to force him to take a pregnancy test. Words: 2115, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Pregumi Week 2025 Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Fushiguro Megumi, Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara Relationships: Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji Additional Tags: Pregumi Week 2025, Accidental Pregnancy, Trans Mpreg | Trans Male Pregnancy, Gender Dysphoria, Kugisaki Nobara is a Good Friend, Itadori Yuuji Loves Fushiguro Megumi, Itadori Yuuji is too pure for this world, He deserves everything and more, We love him, Itadori Yuuji is a Good Significant Other, Fushiguro Megumi Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - No Curses (Jujutsu Kaisen), Aged-Up Character(s), Crack Treated Seriously, also angst, Hurt/Comfort, Urine (not in a kinky way he’s pissing on a pregnancy test), Author has never taken a pregnancy test sorry for any inaccuracies chat ✌️, No beta we die like Yuuji was supposed to before Gojou stepped in, Trans Fushiguro Megumi, I think crack treated seriously applies anyways—, idk i’m bad at tagging from AO3 works tagged 'Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji' https://ift.tt/a9zkyXG

[lady-lostmind]

You Jump, I Jump.

Love is: Stealing an RV together.

a @steddielovemonth prompt Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 1,105 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Steve knows he’s being stupid. Knows he shouldn’t be taking this so seriously. But he really thought he finally had it figured out. He thought he found the thing he’d been searching for this whole time. Something he was actually good at. That he enjoys doing. 

And he never thought it would actually go anywhere, when he started. He thought he could just play shitty bars and open mics and that would be enough. That even if he had to work some shitty job he hates, even if he ended up having to finally take his dad up on his offer to work at his company, at least he would have this. To keep him sane. To keep him fulfilled. 

But then there had been the talent scout, and offers to be flown out to California, and talks of record deals and labels. And he let his hopes build. Thought that maybe he could actually do this. Like, make this his life. He should have known better. 

He should have known to read through the contracts he signed. He should have known it was too good to be true. 

He stares at the door of Eddie’s trailer feeling like dirt. All his dreams of whisking him out of this shitty town thrown out the window. He doesn’t even know how to break the news to him. Really doesn’t want to talk about this at all. 

Steve sighs and knocks on the door. Isn’t even sure Eddie will hear it over the music blasting inside. But the door swings open, and Eddie’s face drops in shock before pulling into a wide grin. 

“What are you doing here, sweetheart? I thought you couldn’t get away for another couple weeks.” Eddie steps back, making room for Steve to come inside. 

Steve glances around, feeling antsy. He doesn’t want to go in. If he goes in they’ll sit down in the living room, and Eddie will light a joint and look at him with those big brown eyes, and he’ll ask. He’ll know something happened and he’ll ask, and they’ll talk. And Steve doesn’t want to do that. He wants to be moving. He wants to go.  He wants to–

“Can we get out of here?” His voice is strained and he watches Eddie’s eyes track what he’s sure is distress on his face. 

Eddie nods, leaning back in to grab his jacket. “Sure, where do you want to go?” 

Steve shrugs as Eddie pulls the door shut and hovers near him on the steps. “I don’t know just…away. Let’s go on a road trip. Just the two of us.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh– in what? My van is still fucked after I hit that tree last month. I’ve been walking everywhere.”

Steve looks around again, spotting a shitty, beat up RV in the corner of the trailer park. He points at it. “That.”

Eddie chuckles. “Uh– In Mr. Jenkin’s shitty old RV?

Steve nods. “He moved last year, right? He’s not using it anymore. It’s just sitting there”

A grin pulls at Eddie’s mouth. “Still not really ours to take, Stevie.”

Steve grins at him, letting his eyes linger on his lips before flicking back up to meet his gaze. “Come on. Think about it. You, me, the open road. We can just drive. Just…go.” 

Eddie’s eyes flash with understanding, like he knows why Steve needs to escape. Like he doesn’t even have to explain. 

He dips into a bow, arm pointing in the direction of the RV. “Your chariot awaits, my liege.” 

Steve’s face pulls into a wide smile, a weight lifting off his shoulders as he walks backward, keeping his eyes on Eddie as he moves to follow him. Watches as his face twists into a menacing grin and he picks up pace, making Steve shriek and turn to run from him, laughter bubbling up from his chest. Eddie grabs him around the middle and hoists him over his shoulder, running into the shadows along the back of the RV. Steve smacks his back, trying to catch his breath as Eddie sets him down and presses him against the RV, leaning in close, and dropping his voice.

“Okay, baby. I’m going to climb in through the window. You go around to the door and I’ll let you in, okay?”

Steve nods, his heart racing as he watches Eddie take one last look around the trailer park before scrambling up the side and popping the window open with his shoulder. He falls through, landing inside with a soft thud. Steve makes his way to the door, bouncing on his feet as he waits for Eddie. 

The door swings open and Steve is hauled inside and pushed into the passenger seat as Eddie flops into the driver’s and starts pulling wires down from the dash. Steve stares at him with wide eyes. Can’t deny the fact that this is turning him on. Watching Eddie’s hands work quickly to fucking hotwire this thing. Like it’s nothing. Like he does this everyday. 

Eddie glances over at him with a smirk. “What’s that look for?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing just…It’s one thing to know you used to steal cars with your dad. In theory. To know you have the knowledge. It’s another to…see it.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Like what you see, big boy?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up. You’re hot. We get it.” 

The RV roars to life and Eddie lets out a victory whoop as he throws it in gear and steps on the gas, lurching them forward. 

–

Steve stares out the window, dark fields rushing by in a blur. He rolls down the window, the cool night air rushing in. Steve takes a deep breath and leans back, turning his head to stare at Eddie, drumming his hands on the steering wheel, hair flying all around him in the breeze. Steve feels his heart swell. Doesn’t think he’s ever felt more loved than right now. Knowing this man would risk it all, just to take Steve on a drive to distract him from whatever it is he’s running from. That he didn’t even ask. Just jumped. 

Steve knows he can’t run forever. Knows that eventually, he’ll have to face this. That he’ll have to accept that he failed. That he got so close just to see it all slip through his fingers. But for now, he sticks his hand out the window, feels the air rush past and sings. He sings along to the radio, sings to the man he loves, sings for himself, and sits back while the road takes them forward. 

[senbons]

How does one become your beta reader? So I can beta read your last chapter so it’ll come out sooner HAHAH!

Lololol don't worry about the last chapter! It's all already beta-ed, it just needs a reread or two by me before I rally and post it!!!

BUT if you seriously want to beta read I DEFINITELY always need more help, so please please write me off anon bc I have these stories I need help with and I've only been able to con one friend into helping me so far!

[epersonae]

Because you foolishly agreed to more than one of these: Director's Cut of "BIGFOOT STOLE MY HUSBAND!", please.

anyway.

before I even start on this, let me just say that I love that you've picked out my three OFMD fics that imho get the best comments in very different ways. for the benefit of all the broken hearts gets the in-depth analysis and plot-based screaming; I spit on your grave is full of I NEEDED THIS CATHARSIS; and BIGFOOT STOLE MY HUSBAND is about 80% "would it be weird if I wanted to kiss bigfoot/o no you've awakened something in me", which me too bud (actually this comment is one of my favorite comments on anything ever).

Sometimes you write something you're not into entirely out of spite, well, 80% spite and 20% as a gift to your friends lol.

Which is to say that someone posted a link to a pretty bad (and also at the time the only) Ed/Stede/Bigfoot fic in a server I'm in (come ON, "it was all a dream"?!?!?! COWARD) and we got chatting about what a good fic would be like, and then dammit now I have an actual idea.

I said in my previous director's commentary post that I often need a hook to get into a story, and the camping narration that it starts with was the hook.

My ex-husband (first spouse, the bad marriage, the divorce) was very outdoorsy in that Pacific Northwest way; in college he'd worked for a summer as a guide on Mt Rainier and then the following winter was the caretaker for a lodge. He was not as gung-ho about it as some of his friends, but he did always want for us to go on a "real" backpacking trip, and we did a lot of car camping. And like, we had some real awful arguments and terrible experiences, but also there was a lot I enjoyed about it, and I hadn't (still haven't) done that since before I got divorce. (iirc we didn't go out at all that last summer we were together, which feels like part of the "everything coming to a head" of that year.)

So apparently I had a whole bunch of pent-up feelings about camping, both the actual physical experience of being in the woods/mountains and the experience of doing something that your partner is into WAY more than you are. (Which, yes, is both about the camping and Bigfoot.)

One of the other things about that fic is the whole scent experience, obviously, and that is the 20% gift for a friend aspect of that story, because one of the people who I was more or less writing it for is someone who I thought would appreciate that particular aspect. My beta also pushed me to be more specific and detailed about the actual fragrance notes, so I did two things. One, I looked up perfume sites and stuff for the kind of language people use for that, and two, what ended up being the most notorious (?) details: I opened up my spice drawer and literally smelled all of my spices to find something that might be a little unusual but also felt right. And that is where the cumin thing comes from.

(I think the commenter experience of "would it be weird if I were into this" comes both from my commitment to sensory detail and to Ed's inner narration of "would it be weird if I were into this")

Finally, I knew it needed to end not with Bigfoot, but with them affirming their connection to each other, and I did seriously laugh out loud when I realized I could use "he's got nice hair". It's so stupid and so perfect.

(also the detail of the two of them having a selfie with a roadside attraction fake taxidermy Bigfoot is stolen from my experience going to the Portland Maine cryptozoology museum and doing exactly that with Ryn, who loved all things Bigfoot.) (I've had relationships with at least four people who are/were really into cryptids, I have no idea what that's about.)

[ask me for the director's commentary on a fic!]

[ao3feed-erasermic]

"when mommy's and daddy's love each other very fucking much-"

Use the related link post to read "when mommy's and daddy's love each other very fucking much-" on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/55686112 by imnot_evenreallyhere "The class all shared a look around eachother before Kyouka silently passed a cigarette to Ochako, who used float to lift it over to Aizawa's fingers. Once it got into Aizawa's hand he commanded for someone to light it, in which Shoto did with little hesitance in the front row. When Aizawa finally opened his eyes, he let out a relieved sigh before taking a long puff out of it. Iida raised his hand with a troubled expression on his face, "Sensei, why are you doing this?" "Because I can assure you after this lesson all of you will be in desperate need of a cigarette." Aka A part of Aizawa's soul dies while he has to teach class 1-A sex ed because he got blackmailed by the rat god himself. Words: 2523, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, Gen, M/M Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Shuuzenji Chiyo | Recovery Girl, Nedzu (My Hero Academia), Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Sero Hanta, Aoyama Yuuga, Uraraka Ochako, Kaminari Denki, Iida Tenya, Jirou Kyouka, Bakugou Katsuki, Mineta Minoru, Shinsou Hitoshi, Kouda Kouji, Ashido Mina, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia) Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Sero Hanta/Todoroki Shouto, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Class 1-A Additional Tags: Sex Education, yes this is a sex ed fic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is So Done, Shinsou Hitoshi is in Class 1-A, Mineta Minoru Bashing, This Is STUPID, The Author Regrets Everything, Implied Sexual Content, but like as a joke trust, References to American Pie (Movies), Kaminari Denki Being An Idiot, Kaminari Denki is a Little Shit, Class 1-A Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Class 1-A Friendship (My Hero Academia), Lesbian Yaoyorozu Momo, Midoriya Izuku is a Dork, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Nedzu is a Little Shit (My Hero Academia), Chaotic Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Crack, I would say treated seriously but this is the least serious shit ive ever wrote, No Beta Use the related link post to read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/55686112

[internerdionality]

Can I ask if there is anything percolating in the Suffer a Sea Change series? That "pre-ship" tag is haunting me.

I am also equally haunted by the I'm Not Ready for Whatever This Is series. The impending poly situations. help.

Yes, you absolutely can, thank you for asking, and yes, there is! The latter will be out well before the former, but both are very much in the works.

I am kind of a classic case of ADD “takes on too many fics” kinda writer. Right now my top priorities/fics I feel driven to write are:

My winter exchange fic for the Sprizzy server (currently untitled, about halfway done, will be posted third week of January come hell or high water)

The next Stizzy installment for I’m Not Ready for Whatever This Is, which is going to be titled "Add a Flourish" (I was hoping for this next part to plunge into the SteddyHands but Stede wasn’t done wallowing in angst. Almost done, will be posted second or fourth week of January depending on how progress on the exchange fic goes)

Finishing Fuck it Through as a Crew (draft of the chapter is done but needs some heavy editing, also January)

Final chapter of Paid with Sighs and Rubies (about half done, aiming for late January/early February)

Always another chapter of my “Batman becomes a cat” fic, whenever I have time

Past that, things get hazier. I really want to get back to my Marvel time travel fix-it but I’ve been a bit blocked on the next chapter. I have a T4T4T modern GentleScribed that I keep meaning to finish but have barely touched since Season 2 came out. The next chapter of Burning Like Embers, Falling Tender is actually about half done but every chapter of that thing is a monster, now, so it still has a lot of writing before it'll be ready to post.

Annddd yes, the sequel to Soaked to the Skin, which is titled Cut to the Bone and explores Izzy and Lucius settling into Stede's crew and figuring out what Lucius being polyam actually means for them, while Ed wrestles with having lost Stede and Izzy! I have about 35K written for it, but most of that was drafted in late 2022 and very early 2023. I haven't had the motivation to work seriously on it for a while, I'm afraid, but I do really want to get back to it.

To be honest, I have some insecurities about it being not as good as Soaked to the Skin—I don't want to follow my baby with something that'll disappoint readers! But I'm hoping once I clear the decks from some of my top numbered priorities above (assuming they don't immediately get replaced with new plot bunnies, lol), I'll find the energy to focus on it again. I've had some beta readers go through the current in-progress chapters recently and they have been giving me some more hype about it!

(Although if it's the Ed/Izzy pre-ship tag that's haunting you, that plot thread isn't going to pick back up until the third — and final? maybe? unless I turn in into a quartet? — installment for that series, tentatively titled Struck to the Heart. Except for how, you know, his devotion to Ed is always driving Izzy's character and motivations. But they're not going to be in the same zip code at any point during Cut to the Bone. I'm so, so sorry. )

And then finally, down here in my purgatory, I have my "I swear I haven't abandoned you" fics like Unmoored (next chapter started, at least?), Dining is Pageantry, my three Good Omens WIPs, the sequel to Learning at the Foot of One of the Greats, the next chapter of What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor (I swear I'm gonna finish that fic one day, I swear), Praying on the Height, and that Rizzy cannibalism fic I keep promising HopelessScribe I'll finish :D

And below that I have my graveyard fics that I haven't worked on in months but really do want to go back to one day—the DC/Slayerverse crossover, the insane Dragonriders of Pern OFMD AU, my winter piece (from last year, oy) for Dragonmuse's Leda House series, and all my poor abandoned SuperBat wips!

[snowbellewells]

@whimsicallyenchantedrose Okay, so first of all: BEST FIC GIFT IDEA EVER!! I love that you are allowing each other us to star in a moment from the OuaT storybook, right a few wrongs that have troubled us and meet our favorites with real fictional flair!! I can only wish you were really magic so this could actually happen!! 😊🤭

Secondly, I have already read this and then real life bogged me down and I didn’t get to comment and flail on it like I wanted. Then, I loved it so much that I almost psyched myself out, not sure I could possibly express how much I adored this gift of sing its praises sufficiently. I’m going to try though, because I do LOVE it, and however belated I am, you deserve to hear how AWESOME this is!! 💖💖💖

Right off the bat, I love how confident fic Marta is that she is right where she belongs and knows just what she needs to do (if only real life Marta could usually feel that certain!) That the idea of meeting Graham is major excitement for her is me to a “T” and the “Best. Girls’. Trip. Ever.” bit made me chuckle and think of Tangled (which I also adore!)

Anyway, you had me snort- laughing again when my fic version made her way through the Storybrooke cemetery and even saw the “Jesus Saves bears”. Granted, you probably had to be there, but that will never not make me laugh, and I loved that you worked it in!

I felt myself panicking a little right along with fic-me when it looked like Emma and Graham were just going to walk away and Regina would be able to crush Graham’s heart as she did before. Her frantic plea for Emma to listen and look once more encapsulate so well how desperate I feel for it to end differently every time I get to that part of the episode when I rewatch. (And I have to rewatch 1x07 very sparingly. It is so well done, but so devastating, and I will still cry more often than not.) I also couldn’t help nodding along that my fiction self wasn’t about to take on Regina one on one,even without her magic. But going to Henry for help? That was a stroke of perfect brilliance!

I also loved the care for Graham that Emma shows when she cradles his face and tries to convince him he’s alright, he just needs to trust her and get some rest. She isn’t trying to put him in danger, she just hasn’t opened herself to believing yet. That, and then the bits from their kiss in the station and Graham remembering, that you saved from the actual episode!! The part of my heart that really did ship Gremma early on was fluttering and swooning like crazy. Not to mention that I got to bring his actual, physical heart back to Graham!!! Dream. Come. True!!! (I am not sure which parts exactly @hollyethecurious said I would swoon at when she beta-ed, but I can say she was definitely right throughout this story- several times over!!)

And then, you let the story version of me sit with Graham at Granny’s?!? And have him smile happily when he sees me coming to join him?!? It’s so wonderful I can hardly stand it!!! I really wish someone had believed him and gotten his heart before Regina could have crushed it, and he had gotten to remember himself and be part of Storybrooke post-curse. If only! I know I’ve said this to you a lot in the course of our friendship, but I wish you were an official OuaT writer. I think you would have made many of us a lot more satisfied as time went on!

And then, oh my goodness, one of my favorite bits: “His returning smile could light up an entire room. ‘Perhaps I would.’

For several moments, Marta couldn’t speak, could barely remember her own name or why she was there. That smile was lethal.”

You seriously gave Graham and me a version of the “Wouldn’t you like to know?/Perhaps I would?” Exchange?!? I cannot handle it!

And yes, that smile IS lethal!!!

I got a chuckle at Graham having to be the sensible one and realizing that shoving a glowing red heart back in his chest out in the open might not be the best idea! (Even fic me must have been a little stunned by the whole situation and his proximity!) I loved how you turned the phrase about “him giving her his heart” —- SWOON indeed! And the kiss on the back of my hand?!? Whew!! You really do know how to make me into a puddle of goo!! 💖💖💖

I loved to that you let me look through Lucy’s storybook too before I left and see how things carried on from there for Graham. I wouldn’t have thought of Regina putting him in the Storybrooke asylum, but she absolutely would have to cover her own misdeeds a little longer. It’s horrifyingly like her actually. 😳 And I can also perfectly see Graham helping Ruby to reunite people and put things in the town back to rights after the curse’s breaking and the hysteria of the wraith. They would make “quite the team” (much like a pirate and princess we all know! 😏) I can even see them eventually settling down out of the center of the craziness in a cabin in the woods at the edge of town, visited often by his wolf brother, who absolutely adopts Ruby too. 🐺)

Okay, I think I’ve rambled way long enough, but thank you THANK YOU for this story!! I know I am going to be re-reading and enjoying it for years to come!!

The Girls' Trip Fairy Tale Ending--Chapter 3 of 5

Summary:  This is my combined birthday gift for Joni (  @jrob64​  ), Marta ( @snowbellewells ) and Krystal ( @kmomof4 ).  Happy birthday ladies! Four fandom friends are nearing the end of their annual girls’ trip when they’re suddenly visited by Isaac, the author before Henry.  He gives them an each a gift–an opportunity to jump into any scene in the storybook they want and fix it.  Large focus on CS, although other characters and relationships will be explored.  A big shoutout to @hollyethecurious​ and @winterbaby89 for betaing!

Word Count: 2897

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4  @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight, @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree  @jrob64  @anmylica   @booksteaandtoomuchtv​ @elfiola

Other chapters:  (1) (2)

Can also be found on: (ao3) (ff.net)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Note: Happiest of birthdays to Marta, @snowbellewells! I hope you enjoy your trip into the book! (You might want to sit down when you read this; there is a decent chance you'll swoon, hehe.)

Chapter 3

The book deposited Marta somewhere in the middle of the Storybrooke cemetery as dusk settled over the town. She grinned, knowing she was exactly where she was meant to be–and because against all odds and logic, she was about to actually meet and interact with Graham. Best. Girls’. Trip. Ever.

She wasn’t going to fulfill her purpose by standing here and thinking about the surrealism of her situation, though. She needed to find Regina’s vault, and she needed to find Emma and Graham before Regina did.

She scanned the cemetery past rows and rows of completely ordinary tombstones, some with loving epitaphs and others rather nondescript.  She even saw one on which was etched three bears standing side by side. The epitaph for this stone read “Jesus saves.”

Finally, in the distance she saw the large mausoleum with its twin pillars and its circular crest, emblazoned with antlers or curved vines. Marta wasn’t entirely clear what they were supposed to represent.

Even more significantly, she saw the three figures of Emma, Graham, and Regina standing before it. They spoke for a few moments, and then Regina threw a punch, which Emma quickly returned, before slamming Regina up against the vault.

Marta’s heart sank; she hoped she wasn’t too late. 

As Emma began walking purposefully toward her cruiser, Graham not far behind, Marta knew she had to make her move.

“Graham was right,” Marta said quickly, catching up to Emma. “Regina is keeping his heart in the vault!”

Emma stopped and stared at her for a long moment. “Is there something in the water today? Have I dropped into some bizzaro world where I’m the only person who hasn’t lost my mind? Do you realize how you crazy you sound, Marta?”

“Yeah, I’m sure I sound insane,” Marta said, “and normally I’d give you the opportunity to figure all of this out on your own, but right now… it’s literally a matter of life and death. We can’t let Regina get to that heart!”

Emma closed her eyes for a moment, growling in frustration. “Okay, say I believed you,” she finally said, encompassing both Marta and Graham in her glance, “we searched the vault. There’s nothing there but a coffin.”

Marta didn't know how much she should or could intervene. It was probably best to be a little cryptic and circumspect.

"It seemed like you were interrupted in your searching," she said. "I'm sure there's more to be discovered there than you realize."

"She's right, Emma,"  Graham insisted. " I can still feel it. It’s there somewhere."

"Look, Graham,"  Emma said gently, taking his face in her hands and looking into his eyes. "It’s been a difficult and emotional day for you. Please just take a breath and trust me. Everything is going to be alright."

Marta saw the moment Graham conceded, and she began to panic. “You have to listen to me!” she tried again. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true!”

Emma shook her head. “Look, we already tried searching for it, and that led to an encounter with Regina that I don’t think either of us is ready to repeat anytime soon. If there’s something there, we can always come back and look for it another time, but until then, there’s a first aid kit in the sheriff’s station that’s calling my name.”

“But–” Marta tried one last time, but they were already gone.

Now what?

She considered heading back to the vault and confronting Regina herself, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to go up against the Evil Queen–even in the Land Without Magic. What she needed was an ally.

And then it clicked. Henry. Who better than the truest believer, who had been working so hard on Operation Cobra, to help her stop his mom from doing something irreversible?

She needed to get to Henry now … wherever he was.

She’d no sooner had the thought than she was at the front door of the mayor’s mansion. She could really get used to traveling at the speed of thought like this! Knowing she didn’t have a moment to lose, she rang the doorbell and then waited impatiently until Henry opened the door.

“Marta?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s an Operation Cobra emergency!” she said. “We have to get to your mom’s vault A.S.A.P.”

Without a word, Henry grabbed his coat and followed her out the door. As they rushed back to the cemetery, Marta filled Henry in on what was happening–being careful to heavily edit the situation, not entirely sure it was suitable for ten-year-old ears.

“And so,” Marta finished, just as the vault came into view, “I thought you could distract your mom, and then I’ll grab the heart and take it back to Sheriff Humbert.”

To Marta’s profound relief, the plan went off without a hitch. When they got to the mausoleum, Marta hid behind a nearby tree while Henry called out for Regina. She came rushing out, and Marta slipped in behind her just as Henry started in on a tale of how he didn’t know where Regina was and he’d been worried.

Thankfully, Regina hadn’t had time to push her father’s coffin back into place before rushing out to her son, and Marta ran down the cold, stone stairs, heart pounding, fearing to find a pile of dust instead of a heart, but to her relief, she saw it right away, bright red and glowing from inside the small box in which Regina had kept it. Marta took a moment to peer into the box to make sure she truly had her prize before closing the lid and making her way back outside. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next thing Marta knew, she was standing in the doorway of the sheriff’s station just as Graham leaned in and kissed Emma. No sooner had his lips touched hers than he pulled back with a gasp, his eyes blown wide.

“Emma,” he said in wonder, “I remember!”

“You remember … what?” Emma asked carefully.

“Everything,” Graham answered. 

Marta stepped forward. “Then I’m sure you’ll be pleased to see this again.” She extended the box toward him.

Graham gasped. “You got it? You really found it? How?”

“Let’s just say…” Marta said, “I knew where to look.”

For a moment, Emma merely looked back and forth between the two of them, her confusion and unease plain to see all over her face, and then she threw up her hands and headed for the door.

“Look,” she said, “I don’t know what the hell is going on around here tonight, but it’s just … too much. I forwarded the station phones to my cell; I’m going home. Graham just … take care of yourself, okay?”

He smiled at her gently. “See you tomorrow? Maybe we can talk.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Promise you’ll get some rest?”

“You have my word.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Marta blinked again, she found herself just inside the door of Granny’s diner.  She glanced around, confused.  She didn’t remember this scene from the show.  Maybe it was something new created because of her changes?

Marta noted that it was dark outside, so it must be evening.  Was it the same evening as her previous scenes had taken place?  What was she meant to do here?  Just as she considered stepping out the door, she spotted Graham sitting alone at a booth near the back of the diner.  He slowly brought a porcelain cup to his lips and took a sip as he looked pensively down at the wooden box in which Regina had kept his heart.

With no idea what she was intended to do, Marta decided she might as well join Graham.  He looked up as she approached the table, and a smile lit up his face at the sight of her.  He gestured to the opposite seat of his bench, and she took the offered seat.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude, Marta,” Graham said.  “If you hadn’t been there, hadn’t believed my wild tale, I shudder to think what might have happened.”

Marta felt a shiver go up her spine, remembering what really HAD happened in the original storyline.  “It was no trouble,” she assured.  “I knew you were right, and I didn’t want anything worse to happen to you.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand with another gentle smile.  “Thank you, nonetheless.  I know the things I’ve said and done over the past day have been–difficult to believe–but you’ve had faith in me even so, and I appreciate it more than you know.”

“Well,” Marta said, “I … know more than you think.  I believe you.  On all of it.”

“Do you?” he asked, surprised.

Marta nodded.  “And I know that you’ve been controlled entirely too long.  You need to get your heart back in your chest.”

Graham sighed, and glanced sightlessly out the window.  “Then you know I need a magic wielder to make that happen.  The only ones currently in this town are Regina and Mr. Gold, neither of which I trust to help me.”

Marta thought for a moment and a specific scene came to mind: Mulan returning Aurora’s heart in Rumplestiltskin’s cell.

“I’m not entirely sure that’s true,” Marta said.  “I’ve, well, I’ve seen a non-magical person return a heart.”

He glanced at her quizzically.  “Just who are you, Marta?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked with a small, secret smile.

His returning smile could light up an entire room.  “Perhaps I would.”

For several moments, Marta couldn’t speak, could barely remember her own name or why she was here.  That smile was lethal.

“Anyway, that’s … not important,” she answered, still more than a little flustered.  “The point is, I think it can be done.  I could try, if you’d be willing to let me.”

He was silent for a moment, considering it, and then he nodded.  “It’s worth a try.”

Graham got to his feet, and Marta gave him a questioning look.  “I’d assume you shoving a red glowing object into my chest might attract… attention.  I thought it would be best to go somewhere a bit more secluded.”

Nodding at the wisdom of that, Marta got to her feet and followed Graham to the back hallway of Granny’s, where he gave her his heart. (Marta was sure for the rest of her days she would never forget the warm fuzzy feeling that gave her.)  Holding it carefully, she hesitated for a moment, before quickly plunging her hand into his chest.

Graham gasped, closing his eyes and grimacing in pain for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Marta asked quickly.

After a moment, he opened his eyes, and the smile that came over his face would put the sun to shame.  “I’ve never in my life been better,” he said, “and I have you to thank for it.”

Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips, placing a quick, grateful kiss on its back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Marta was fairly certain she’d swooned after Graham kissed her hand, and this time when she came to, she found herself in Mary Margaret’s flat. Emma sat at the kitchen table, pushing around the cereal in her bowl rather listlessly.

Breakfast time, then–must be the next morning.

“Emma?” Marta asked, taking a seat on the other side of the table, “I just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. Last night was kind of a lot.”

Emma snorted.  “Yeah, you could say that.  I have a knock-down, drag-out fight with the mayor, who also happens to be my son’s mom. My boss kisses me and then has some sort of … break with reality.  All in a day’s work in Storybrooke, right?  I’ve only been in this town a few weeks, but already I realize things are just … weird … here.”

“Well that is one way to put it,” Marta replied. “But … maybe try to keep a bit of an open mind about Graham.  Obviously he was going through … something … yesterday.”

Emma rolled her eyes.  “Not you too!”

Marta’s brows furrowed.  “Not me … what?””

“Mary Margaret’s already been all over me this morning about closing my heart to love and not giving Graham a chance, and being afraid, and, well, whatever other crap she mentioned.”

“So I take it you told her about your kiss,” Marta prodded.

“Yeah, and she jumped all over it,” Emma said with a frustrated huff.  “Got all excited, talking like I’d just started dating my true love or something.  It was just …way too much for this early in the morning”

Marta chuckled.  “Knowing her, I can imagine.  She means well; just wants you to be happy.”

“I know she does,” Emma sighed.  “I just wish she’d back off a little sometimes.  I’ve been a loner for a long time.  I’m not used to… friends.”

“Well you have them now,” Marta said, “and that’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah,” Emma said slowly, “except when they're jumping to too many conclusions about my love life.”

“Okay, I could see that,” Marta conceded. “So what are your thoughts about Graham and what happened last night.”

“I don’t know,” Emma said, looking down at her bowl of cereal and continuing to drag her spoon through it.  “I do have, I don’t know, feelings of some sort toward him.  I do care about him, but … well, for one thing, he’s clearly going through something right now.  I don’t know if he’s sick and delirious, or something else, but all that crap he was saying back at the office–”

“Yeah, I know it strains credibility,” Marta said carefully.  This was harder to navigate than she’d anticipated.  If she said too much would she change the future?  Was Emma even ready to hear it?  “Maybe he just needs a little time.  You probably do too.”

Emma barked out a laugh.  “That’s for sure.”

For a few moments, the two were silent, thinking about the conversation and the events of the past day.  Finally, Emma spoke up again.

“It’s not just Graham’s … issues, though, to be honest.”

“What else is bothering you?” Marta asked.

“It’s just … those feelings I feel toward Graham? I don’t think it’s love.  I just don’t think I feel for him what I should feel for the man I’m in love with.  I don’t want to start something and hurt him later.  I know I’m the last person who should have this, I don’t know, romanticized view of love, but I just feel like there should be more to it than this.”

Marta smiled gently, thinking about a certain leather clad pirate Emma was only weeks from meeting for the first time.  She thought about their epic love story that even death itself couldn’t stop.  “Emma,” she said, “I have no doubt that epic, passionate, all-consuming true love is out there for you, and I have a sense that it’ll find you sooner than you think.  Until then, there’s nothing wrong with keeping things with Graham at the friendship level.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma thanked Marta for the talk and then headed for the station.  Left alone in the loft, Marta wondered what else she was meant to do.

Then she noticed the storybook–the storybook Lucy had at the start of season 7, the one that contained all of the events of canon along with the past fairy tales.

Maybe she was supposed to flip through and see what changed thanks to her ministrations?

She paged through until she found the events of the past day, and then she moved forward.  Regina, angry with being thwarted and concerned with how much of the truth Graham might know, came up with a creative–and particularly cruel–way to solve her problem.  After convincing the town that Graham had suffered a mental break and was no longer fit for duties as sheriff, she had him committed to the Storybrooke mental asylum in the hospital basement.

It appeared the rest of season one continued largely the same as canon.  Curious what would happen following the breaking of the curse, Marta kept reading.

After the curse, Graham was freed from the mental hospital and went on to team up with Ruby to head up the task force to reunite people with their missing loved ones.  Working together brought the two of them closer, and it wasn’t long before they began dating.

Through the seasons, Graham continued to help the heroes as various villains showed up and were subsequently defeated.  Eventually, he and Ruby decided to pull back from the craziness and enjoy their life together, even as the world continued to crash around them.

It was all Marta could have hoped for her favorite first Storybrooke sheriff.

She’d no sooner closed the cover of the book than she felt a tug in her midsection, and the room around her began spinning.  She closed her eyes against the sudden dizziness.  When she opened them again, she was back in the living room of her cabin, looking at the eager faces of her friends.

“I can’t wait to tell you what just happened!” she said excitedly.

“Well, you’re gonna have to,” Isaac said irritably.  “Come on; I don’t have all night.  Who’s next?”“I think it’s my turn,” Krystal said, a blood-thirsty gleam in her eyes, “and I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

Notes:

--I hope you enjoyed your birthday gift, Marta! Your affinity for a certain handsome Storybrooke sheriff who deserved so much better is well known to all of us. Since we got so little of him in canon, I thought I'd give you more one on one interaction with him!

--Up next: A bit of a longer hiatus. The next chapter will be posted on October 15, Krystal (@kmomof4's) birthday. We'll be moving on to the missing year between 3a and 3b, and Krystal will get a chance to give Neal the ending he deserves. (Cue evil laughter)