#//doc dont be rude say thank you

[outofthiisworld]

@grandgrief sent in: The synth-- labeled 'EMPEROR-10,' and nicknamed Nero in lab trials to maintain his false identity, approaches. He offers Doc... a tray of cornbread. "You have not had breakfast yet. That's no way to start an ATLAS day. This comes from the cafeteria, post-haste."

[🧪]— Doc was holed up in the infirmary’s office (which was more of a closet in the corner of the infirmary than an actual office, if he was being honest), where stacks upon stacks of files on crew members and experiments alike towered over the old medic. Stress weighed heavy against his shoulders as he hunched over the desk.

Why the hell was there always so much damned paperwork? Weren't there computer logs for this?

Doc’s attention lifted from the documents scattered across his desk at the sound of someone approaching— a moment’s relief that it was just Nero and not an upper echelon or worse— Beth (a sweet girl — but she liked small talk far more than he would ever care for).

“Yeah, yeah, yeah— an ATLAS day to you too; saying good morning instead won’t kill you, you know.” 

Was it already morning? Hard to tell out in space. That was the only reason why he lost track, no other reason of course.

Doc rubbed his eyes as a yawn broke through; he picked at the crust that lined his eyelids as he examined the...

Corn…bread…?

“Nero, buddy. Did— did you pick that out? For breakfast?”

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter- 18+ words and themes overall, cussing, mention of death, mention of sandors death, joss and Podrick being cutie pies,

// A/N: just wanted to apologize for the broken links at the beginning of the book since i changed my username they haven’t been working but i assure you I’ll get to fixing them. I will also end up making a goggle docs with the entire book for downloading when this series ends//

Previous chapter here

Chapter 22

You hold your son in your arms walking around the room as you rock him and hum too him. He coos in your arms he holds onto your finger. You smile down at his little face admiring his feature yet to come in your excited to see him grow into his fathers looks. 

There’s a knock on your door. 

“Enter.” You say the door opens and joss enters. 

“Your grace.” You says bowing slightly. You smile at his persistence to come in and check up on you once in a while. Its been just over a month since you gave birth to Joss, and the recovery has gone smoothly and being fully healed your back to doing the normal things relatively. 

“The lady Sansa is looking for you. She’s by the wearwood.” He speaks 

“thank you. Ill be right out. Leave the door open” You say he nods and exits leaving it open as per your request. He dosnt leave he just merely stands to the side to wait for you. with your newfound talent of doing things one handed you lay out the fur blanket on the bed before laying your son on top. 

You turn and pull on your cloak and gloves before going back to your son. You swaddle him in the furs before pulling him back into your arms and heading out holding him close to you and walking out to find Sansa joss follows close behind you as usual. 

“Joss?” You ask him on your way over. 

“Yes?” He asks 

“may i task you with something this evening?” You ask.

”of course your grace.” he answers. 

“Will you go into the town and fetch some new furs as he grows i will need more.” You say. 

“Of course your grace.” He says and smiles before trailing away from your side to the stables to collect a horse for his ride. 

————

You see Sansa red hair before herself. 

“Sansa.” You call. She turns around to face you her face lighting up as she sees you holding joss in your arms. she holds out her arms asking for permission to take a hold of him and you happily ablidge as you both move to the stone carved bench and take a seat. 

“You were searching for me?” You ask her once seated. 

”ah yes. John sent word through raven about the success with the dragon queen. She will be joining us in the next coming months, John will be arriving home soon to prepare…and he says he’s bringing a friend.” She says breathlessly. 

“You dont sound pleased to have another royal arrive.” You say she chuckles and shakes her head. 

“Her father was the mad king…shes a targaryen they are, to say the least, the more so crazy of the rich royal families.” She speaks bouncing joss slightly. you snort at her rude comment. 

“Do you think she actually has dragons?” You ask she nods. 

“John drew a picture.” She says about the ravens scroll that was sent. You nod and sigh looking at the tree. 

“May i ask you something?” She asks. 

“Hmm?” You answer mindlessly. 

“Do…hm..” she trails off thinking on how she wants to word the topic that could either piss you off or make you cry. 

“When…you look at, joss…” She says signalling to your son and not the squire. 

“…is there any part of you that may have resentment, or pain for the death of sandor?” She asks. You sigh and look at her. 

“No..i miss my husband dearly and every night wish that he were still here to see his son grow but..i have a part of him and i'm grateful for that. Although I do sometimes remind him of how much pain he caused me. When he’s king I hope he goes out of this world just as stubborn as he wanted to come into it…with a fight.” You smile looking at your sons blushed face as he sleeps in Sansa’s arms. 

“I wish to have a babe of my own, whether it is born from me, or im to come upon one that needs care.” She says and smiles. 

“I would’ve liked to give joss a brother so he’s never lonely but I refuse to give myself to another man. when the time comes i want to visit the orphanage.” You say. Sansa smiles and looks to you. 

“I shall join you and we can give two children the rightful home they deserve.” She says happily you nod, brushing your finger against your sons cheek. 

“Speaking of…joss. Where is he. It seems he never leaves your side.” Sansa jokes. 

“Ugh can you believe it? I sent him away to get more furs but i know he’s going to have a hard time determining which length or color to pick.” You say as Sansa hands your son back to you before you both get up deciding to head back into the halls to warm up. 

————

Standing in the shop joss looks at the furs just a suspected he struggles with choosing the type of furs asking the store clerk a thousand different question about them. The front bell attached above the door rings making Joss double take at the arrival of the other squire sent out. 

“Joss.” Podrick speaks enthusiastically as he sees his fellow looking frantically at the selection the clerk has shown. 

“H-hello.” Joss gets out before running his fingers through the furs now testing the feel once deciding on the color, granted it should’ve been the first thing he does as now he regrets choosing the type and he begins the process all over again. 

“What are you doing?” Podrick asks. 

“H-her grace has asked me to gather furs for the next coming years for the little prince but i dont know if she sent me away to torture me for I cannot choose the best.” He huffs. 

“For now he is a baby no bigger than forearm so he will only need long furs for the next 2 years and the life spans of furs is four. Six if taken care of properly. So you can get him 2 of the long gray. It has soft enough fibers that it will not cause irritation and prevent choking for the prince. You cal buy six other pertaining the length as as he grows older they are most likely to be worn as a cape to there's no need for a backing it can stay as the Hyde, also better for insulation.” Podrick educates your squire as well as telling the store clerk what is to be bought. 

“When have you become an expert on furs?” Joss asks genuinely although it sounds more like a mock. Podrick scoffs. 

“My time spent with Tyrion lannesister wasn’t just golden roofs and armor plating, i took his orders and lists and he had a collection of fine furs.” Podrick answers. 

“I apologize i mean no ill intent for my question it was genuinely a skill i need to learn for her grace.” Joss replies reassuring. He pays the correct amount for the fur selections of one of the guards that went with him taking some in his hold as theres quite a few. Podrick quickly grabs the fur hes chosen an pays before following joss outwards. 

“I could… teach you if you’d like about the difference in fine things.” Pod offers. 

“Take these back her grace I will be alright.” Joss instructs the guard you puts the furs in the saddle bags of his horse before nodding, mounting and riding off. 

“I would enjoy that very much.” Joss says looking at podrick who puts the single fur pelt under his arm smiling back at the other. 

————

“I was a soldier once. All my superiors thought I was brave…I wasn’t. I mean i never ran from a fight, only because I didn’t want to see who i thought were my friends to see me a coward. And no matter the orders I would do them without a blink. Burn that village im your arsonist, steal from the village, fine im your thief, kill those boys, i'm your murder.” Everyone sits around as Brother ray speaks out on the past he wishes to re-write. He takes a seat looking at everyone who’s listening, including sandor. 

“I went to a village, much like the one we are building, and slaughtered those within, I heard a boy away from his mother as i slit his throat. That night the screams of the mother calling out for her son haunted me. And they still do to this way. And will so for the rest of my life.” He sighs standing up once more. 

“We cannot undo what was done in our past, however we can mold our future to be braver, better, happier, kinder. We can use our wits and our strength for the goodness of our next life.” Brother ray speaks looking directly to sandor. 

Before he begins to speak again the sound of horse hooves trods closer allowing the view of three men to ride up to the group as everyone stands. 

“Good Morrow friends.” He speaks. 

“Whats your business here?” The one in the middle asks looking around at everyone. 

“Building a new civilization my lord.” Ray answers. The man chuckles lowly before speaking again. 

“Have you any more spots? Or steel?” He asks. 

“We are welcome to anyone who wants to help with the thrive, but we’ve no gold, no steel. Your welcome to join us for supper however we’ve many hungers mouths here.” Rays continues to answer kindly. 

The man takes another look at the small crowd before backing his horse up a it. 

“Stay safe then. The night is dark and full of terrors.” He speaks before nodding to the other men. 

“Seven save you friends.” ray replies before the three men turn and ride off. Ray turns to the crowd taking a breath reassuring everyone. 

“Now then let us do some more work and supper shall be prepared.” He smiles. Sandor continues to look at the men who ride off recognizing the symbol in the chest plate. Ray gives him a look before sandor turns and heads back off to his station of chopping wood since he's the strongest and does not tire easily. Brother ray however does not go to his of supervising, he follows sandor watching him pick up the axe and begin easily splitting the large logs. 

Sandor stops a second before turning his head seeing ray walking to him. He scoffs rolling his eyes. 

“Seven blessings, fuck that.” sandor huffs as he goes back to splitting logs. 

“Im a fucking septon what was i supposed to say?” brother ray sighs back to sandor. 

“They dont believe in your seven god shit, theyre from the brotherhood, they serve the redgod…Fucking cunts.” sandor says putting down the axe breifly to talk to ray. 

“Anyway weve got nothing for them.” ray speaks, sandor scoffs at his comment. 

“Sure you do…youve got food, you’ve got steel, even if you say you don't, and you've got women, a man like that whos been out on horse back for long enough is gonna want a women no matter the cost.” sandor retorts back to brother ray. 

“Not you? Youre a man, youre around women?” ray suggests. 

“No not me. I dont need another woman.” he huffs turing back around and picking up the axe once more. Brother ray walks around sandor to face him to continue the conversation. 

“Another? Hm?” ray prods at sandor for mentioning the slightest of you. Sandor huffs and continues to chop. 

“When i found you i thought youd been dead for days. When you were stinking already and covered in bugs, and bone was coming through your leg right there. But youre all healed up apart from the little limp.” brother ray chuckles as sandor looks up at him stopping his chopping yet again for a moment to talk. 

“I was gonna give you a proper burial but the you coughed, Ha, nearly shit myself…i thought, you would die by the time i got you back here, but by that time you didnt. And i reckoned you’d die a dozen more times over those next few days but you didnt…what was it that kept you going?” ray asks. Sandor glances at the ground for a second before taking a breath and letting it out in a sigh. 

“What is her? ‘The Woman’?” ray asks once more. 

“Shes pregnant, with mine, might have given birth by now its been about a year. I made her a promise that i would come back, find her. And i would like to keep it.” he says looking brother ray in the eyes for once. Brother ray nods and walks around sandor beginning his walk back to the village area. 

“Come on now get some supper.” he says. 

Sandor picks up the axe and begins swinging once more. 

“It’s gonna be a cold night. You’ll need firewood.” sandor says chopping and splitting the wood. 

“Ill save you a bowl. Might even have some ale hidden away” ray smiles to sandor before hading back to the village plot. Sandor chuckles and continues chopping although his math is slightly off and with in the next new chops he’ll have to go into the forest for a moment to collect more.

Next chapter here

TAGLIST. If you’d like to be added to the tag list please leave a comment down below.

Taglist @stephyshadows@germansarechill@urfavbiscuit@daphneyblue@takemeaemond@holb32@allison-119@pxstelink@imsolonelyimissyou@myshitaccount@broadsdrinkwhisky@@evie-beanie@eulysa23-2@greeknymph18@rudiruds@ex160-blog1@im-an-assho1e@chompwoman@heartb8k2@lovely--lover ex160-blog1 @midnightprocrastinator @haus-of-a-thousand-fandoms @friendlyspacemartian

[indigitalembrace]

[ooc: since this is a long message I’m not encoding it, but it is encrypted in-universe]

spooky. sup.

i got somthin big cookin. but for this to work i need intel.

first, i need a favour. i cant do much thanks to the watchdog. i so much as twitch my fingers on the keyboard in the wrong place an time and this whole operation will come crashin down. so. if u can, watch the shrimp for me when they are online doin mundane stuff. because if they do stuff like use social media, play games that require a registered account, use their email and especially if they get online deliveries to their house, those all will have info that will help me figure out where they live irl.

second: tell me everything u know about how pinkie can access an affect the real world. whats the limitations. how much warning would i get. what r the access points. do devices need power for it to be able ta use em? how functional do they have to be? would pinkie be able to exit a screen the size of a pager or somthin? does it need an internet connection to jump pcs or can it do that without it?

and can it be hurt in the real world? can it be hurt by destroying its host device while its occupyin it? or is the only way to kill it digitally? did you ever have a program specifically set up for that (if so, y u no gimmie dat earlier!? rude!). how long would it take?

also any info u have picked up on shrimp or their livin space that might be useful for an irl confrontation would be suuuuuper handy as well.

give me all ya got on all these things. if its a lot, just send me a zip file or somthin lol.

i do have some unfortunate news. i think we gotta change our 'meeting site' soonish. ill send ya some prospectives later. i have a feelin that it might get compromised.

i mayyyyyy have poked the shrimp with a stick. don’t worry, they wont be able to tell the actual pc I used. I am da disquise master. it is me. also i lied. ive scrounged up some burner laptops anyway. my friends r awesome (dont worry they aint involved they just knew I needed the laptops for reasons and they are used to me Enacting Shenanigans).

oh. And one last thing. when I get there, hightail off that pc asap. im gonna signal u and give you a path to a safe pc. Do Not Hesitate. cuz trust me no matter how I decide ta play this u will *not* wanna be on that computer when im doin my thing. and ill almost certainly be disabling the wi-fi in the process.

id like u ta not be double dead. low key fond of ya spookster.

Goblin out

[ooc: If there is a lot of info to give and you don’t want to post it all here, message me and we can work something out like a google doc or something. Or maybe there’s not much for Sonny to say. I dunno, I’m not driving this crazy train lol]

[ENCRYPTED MESSAGE] Ty. Kqgwkh'j tpx cex nhw voe zrtpxf rec tpx rrmr ywn bvxu… lcvyzep fwk mfn, ye'a wwjmiakmsu. Ted abbtx Z czxokxu hqf… W bgfw zbuym nhmks yx jtwksj xmezrhybeg. [SENDING ENCRYPTED FILE "SHRIMP_DATA.zip"] Myab lvfncd ptjv xmezrhybeg ghi exvd. Qm'g vovrgmvzgx tpth jipivz afgjtmk yehns. Ghi dtp nwm vrov mcvv ntinqgu navn px uvmj avzfp. Xmev t qffgubxf tkrspbbx pfn'b lhfi yiu. As ytj fcez thetzhz fovr bas jrjtmf, pfmy ibl vrkuwiks rgu swyhntie. Bas dhjt qgjrlzvm iffziau B'jv xmez lsvg. Zf ghi jxv hql tfkd sbtfk mf cptbxx, rnl as'j zioeg wemf a nhfd pztp vzrpj, ib'l hfh cabx. Wk'l vxbko khf lims zy ye ohsj betw awj lyalhk-chfkqgu whim. Px ceep dwxg kart ease av's zxocep, rmtzcr gialsu ted thgzgx cwghihc on awj xdobbcel. Khmks zl… eo etm kh wioah fk fubkie azm, aacim ff jhcbbeg qm hf mye vxoixjt xeotx waz yoi tnag yfff rng xzvvkrwgwt wvvqvsj. B uo vhh bgfw phk ktcl ghi rkv, bcm W uhlbb rcl tie wosi mvn igr r arln ysvm kate. Vv'l rlah trlk. Efmfvfvlg yojm. Rnl mvzgbs ynwtdcy, bhc, vovn qy vv wfeag'h dtbe bas dhjt zthzheat wstbjiwgg. Z wf nwm yehn hql zzfztimwfgj iv msifj on lqixvn abnv, ult Q wc bgfw pbg andpqgu wkfm avfvxe tw lqixvn wnhjbue bas ubxibtz nhill lsvfj ivwsgxedmgh fy rn qghvkeeb vcegvcbbce. Fp bmlh kavozr wj myab tg r wzgqmoc uvivz, vv bj ciiosev on zsexiabbbx azs wpb thenmvhzhe on lcdx jozm, plm vvmg W uhe't nnzcr lnlxfjmrnl awd. B lsmw hf arvm t yzec sebhta ff ahfkl. R bivyuhfr bh rvevtm awj lvrdxfj. Nefwkhlgrtmem, yx wocgr kart utbp rvazl oxh. Jeiesu bk ux, wsjmiogxr nartmosi av cwnzu, vyavzsu tcl bas gtjsehful. Nhimsmxi ywn rf, rfuz usjm thigqv hw sckjzorl ql hf frkm liix ye lhsjg'k smx mfn, fr pxoi rfu, wk smxe nwmwtx poc'ks kavrm. Mvrm jhzbag gvvmk zvtmea mvvbi rwha, yheeamzp, ted Sbbzmf's iekrrj wimqybeg. Ghi exvd bh ardv scks yx zsv'm ocxitmw, ci bk's otav hmez yci rfu. Ohcu elcs, fm wkzevw. Gktp siys.

[honeekyuu]

hey this is the shy anon from the other day that read through your ao3 and i just wanted to stop in and say to take your time and don’t let these anons get to you. i know you’ve been writing on your ao3 for a while now but your tumblr is literally brand new and i’m honestly at a loss for words that you’re already getting rude anons and people pressuring you to post more.

you seem like a really busy gal and i’d hate for demands like that to burn you out. you’re doing amazing and don’t let anybody be an asshole to you. post what you want when you want/can, i’ve seen far too many people give up on fandom because they feel like they have to constantly churn out content to the detriment of their creativity and passion. you’re so talented and based on the frequency with which you’ve been writing in the last few months it seems like you have a fire in your soul for haikyuu. i hate seeing it taken for granted and i just wanted to let you know you have support in doing whatever the fuck it is you want.

(feel no obligation to reply to this, just wanted to offer some support after seeing such atrocious fandom etiquette literal days into the life of this blog)

wow, i really dont know what to say--

i saw this as soon as you sent it in, but i was honestly super shocked that id gotten it, so ive just been sitting here thinking ab it.

it means probably more than you realize that you sent something so kind. i've been writing for a long long time now (both here on a different blog and on ao3), and it's true that i am very busy, because unfortunately being a phd student and running experiments and spending all my time running back and forth between my advisors and conferences and the lab means i have a schedule thats not really a schedule, and i can never really say when or what im going to be inspired enough to write, enough that i can pull myself out of daily burnout. i experience writing droughts often, sometimes lasting up to a year before i feel the urge to sit down with a doc again. and i have a LOT of half-written fics that have never seen the light of day, which i plan to get back to eventually but which, in reality, may never get finished.

ive gotten so much love and support over the years, and it's brought me back to writing every time. i love haikyuu with my soul, and i think about my fics almost every day because i feel a burning need to write them. if not for anyone else, then just for me.

but this blog is brand new, so, even though that anon i received definitely tops the list of unfriendly comments ive gotten over the many years of writing, i wanted to be as kind and accommodating as possible. because i dont want people to think im ungrateful and will ignore criticism, because no one likes those kinds of writers. but i am also a person, and writing is hard, so i think i will continue to do things my way.

my writing style is this, for anyone who'd like to know: i am erratic, and i dont have an upload schedule, because i cant realistically manage one. i have periods of inactivity, because life is hard, and i have periods of hyperactivity, because i love this fandom and the way that haikyuu makes me feel in a life that's full of terrible feelings. this may annoy some people, and i can understand that. but i cant force myself to write if im not in a place to write, and i cant force myself to stick to one fic at a time, because then it'll be clear that it's been forced.

im extremely annoying and unhinged and feral and i will talk about several different fics and smaus and text threads and headcanons all within the same breath. but i will always write what i love, so if you'd like to see work that is well-loved, feel free to stick around.

thank you very much to everyone whos been so kind in my inbox tonight, and i hope to see you all tomorrow <3

[little-orphan-ant]

hi this is your invitation to go on a tangent about the titanic btw

THANK YOU GRACIE I WILL DEFINITELY TAKE UP YOUR OFFER

eg i will talk abt my son Ross

(someday ill prolly talk abt my other sons Jack and Harry and why i think they are Gay and also abt the Skoogs and the Navratils and etc)

(also i know i said on the discord that this would be a 4 page essay but its MUCH less organized than that just me spitting headcanons and facts)

but Rossmore!!!

that's what he looked like he look very stupid and idk why he's so surprised did he not know the picture was being taken

(not sure how old he is here - could be a graduation picture, meaning he was 13/14, or perhaps closer to the sinking, so 15/16)

this is him with his mom and brother (ill get to them later dont worry) sometime in the early 1900s (?) - Ross is the one in the middle, he's maybe 6 or 8 or 10ish here

NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT ROSSY

(there are no records of him ever being called Ross/Rossy but I give all my history blorbos nicknames)

Rossmore Edward Abbott was born on Feb 21, 1896, in Providence, Rhode Island (probably on Chestnut Street, they def lived there by 1906)

His parents were George Stanton Abbott (listed in several places as Stanton, George S, Geo S, etc) and Rhoda Abbott (often called Rosa or Rose, but census data lists her as Rhoda)

Stanton was a PROFESSIONAL BOXER which is REALLY COOL and they got a buncha money n shit from punching people which was good because Money is Good

In 1899 Rossie's little brother Eugene was born and unlike his brother there is actually sources stating he went by Gene

(good choice genie)

his parents also had another kid but that kid died before being recorded on any census records or anything at all which is quite rude i must say

Rossie had a good childhood, but eventually the fame went to Stanton's head and he and Rhoda separated sometimes between 1906 and 1910 (look idk)

In that time Ross also started at Oxford Street Grammar School, the local grammar/middle school

Ross was a Very Good Student! (at least i like to believe that) he had Lots of Friends! (another thing i choose to believe with no proof)

actually no i do have Some proof abt the Good Student part

(look at me caually segue-ing (?) into the most important and detailed part of my research)

(i have a doc called 'INTERESTING PEOPLE ABOARD THE TITANIC' and it's 42 pages long and my shit research abt Oxford Street and the Anthony Medal makes up pages 15 through 34)

SO!!

ANTHONY MEDAL!!

Something Something Anthony was the governor of Rhode Island for a while at some point (i do not care abt this fucker) but when he died or retired idk he donated some money and was like 'hey make an award after me'

and everyone was like 'okie dokie'

so yeah now they got the Anthony Award, which was given to one or two students twice a year from each of the Providence grammar and high schools

they win by reciting a speech good or some shit, i never actually figured it out lol

but i bet you can guess where im going with this-

Rossie-boy wins it!!

(I freaked out so fucking hard when I found this like seriously i had been looking for MONTHS and THERE IT WAS)

Ross won the Anthony Award on Jan 28, 1910, when he was about a month away from turning 14

Soon afterwards he either graduated or had to leave school, because on the 1910 census he's apprenticed to an 'electro gilder', whatever that is. (some sort of jeweler?)

(it tried to correct 'he's' to 'he was' haha no this boy's alive in my head)

also on that census - Ross is listed as having not attended school in the past year, which we know is false because yknow. Anthony Medal. So either our boy lied or there was some sort of mix-up

(by here Stanton is gone and Rhoda, Ross, and Gene are living at a different address with another family and two boarders, and Rhoda is working as a seamstress)

The next year (1911) Rhoda decides to move her and the boys back to her hometown (somewhere in England idk)

there, Genie attended school but Ross had to work as a jeweler to help his family make ends meet :(

this makes me especially sad bc I like to think that Ross really wanted to go to college and do something that required an education and he wasn't able to bc of things outside his control

After about a year of living in England, the Boys were very homesick and missed Providence, so Rhoda decided to move them back home.

guess what ship they were on. guess. guess.

YOU'RE WRONG IT WAS THE TITANIC

and I could write SO MUCH more on Ross's experiences onboard and my headcanons about him and Alfred Rush but this is long so not gonna (yet)

gracie!! thank you!! i love ranting about unimportant shit!!

[saetoru]

i don’t know if this was on purpose and i’m dumb, and i don’t want to sound rude or critical or anything like that, but in your new geto fic, at one point it says “ghetto suguru” instead of geto

plz do not hate me i am terrified of you 😭i just didn’t know if you’d seen or if anyone else said anything i am so sorry plz do not think this is hateful i just wanted to tell you :(((((

NOOOOOOOO SOBS

google docs ALWAYS AUTOCORRECTS GETO TO THAT AND IM LIKE STOP IT 🙃 thanks for telling me i’ll go find it and fix it 🥹 ITS NOT HATEFUL PLS DONT BE SCARED I APPRECIATE U SM FOR TELLING ME THKNK YOU !!

[imtrying-butimpissed]

i saw that you quit treatment today and i wanted to reach out to offer another type of help. idk if you've tried groups but i have a full google doc of them that might have some winners in it. i can't vouch for any of the groups on the list (except for the one im in!), but i can say that groups saved my life when it comes to my ed. almost four years ago now i was in a real horrible place and nobody would take me for outpatient and i relied on groups, and like i said, they saved my life. if you want the resource i can send it to you, but i dont wanna pressure you into it. like i said, i only know from my experience in groups, but recovery is worth all the work that goes into it. it's hard and a lot to deal with, but i promise that it's better than living life with an active ed. if you need support i can message you off anon, i just wanted to let you know that there was alternative support out there.

Hey! Thanks for taking the time to message me, you rock. I appreciate your offer but I'm just no longer interested in attempting any groups anymore.

I've tried doing treatment in the past and it just wasn't helpful. And this time around was a higher level of care and still unhelpful. I was meeting with a group three days a week, meeting with a psychiatrist, meeting with a nutritionist, and it just didn't fit me. It was all just wasting my time. I'm too jaded to get anything out of group when all they talk about is shallow surface level topics and the nutritionist treats me like an idiot. I stop caring.

My nutritionist was a bitch. Every time she spoke to me she was rude as hell for no reason. I just wanted to get better.

The groups took HOURS in the middle of the day taking away from my work schedule and taking away from my paychecks. Everyone was younger than me and couldn't relate to their struggles. The activities in group weren't helpful to me ten years ago and weren't helpful to me now. I fully decided to leave after the psychiatrist asked our group if our "eating disorder allows for self compassion" ......

No fucking shit. What are we stupid??? Obviously the answer is fucking NO. God damn. Every group meeting has been that: stupid obvious questions that mean nothing. Hours in group today and all we did was "therapy" for less than an hour and we watched a Ted talk. The rest of the time was a fucking waste of nothingness.

Immediately out of there. I recover better on my own anyways. I have zero interest in doing any groups any more.

HOWEVER

If you're able to send the link I'd love to share it here so others who see it can take a look and see if it helps them!!

[seospicybin]

Hellaurrrr

I came back <3 ngl first part of fatal attraction only had me wanting to throw hands with Innie bc WHAT WAS HE SO RUDE FOR 😭 the day she had a breakdown and he said <"Please, don't bleed all over the marble floor. Joon can show you a better place to do it!"> i was like dang hes so harsh TT my poor mc should run away with Joons help or end up with him (yes we a Joon enthusiast in this house) when Joon recommended mc to play nice i had my doubts and was highly reluctant but it worked so good for her ☺️💕 and ngl I’m a sucker for slow burn so the process of them falling in love was delightful 🥹 i think Jeongi definitely fell first and him arranging for her to see his favorite artist exhibition pls TT that’s so sweet i cry and I’m not even gonna talk about my poor man H showing up because i will cry again BUT YHE WAY HE WALKED AWAY WHEN HE GOT TO KNOW SHE HAD THE PAINTING BECAUSE HE DIDNT EVEN WANT TO KNOW THAT INFORMATION IN THE FIRST PLACE _(:з」∠)_ and Jeongi getting jealous at Mr Yamada pls 💀 clown behavior but hes cute jsjdjdjd BUT HE HAD TO RUIN IT LIKE CMON MAN and then i was crying again because he got shot bc im also a clown and second part was amazing as well! I was surprised he decided to try and protect mc at the end instead of tryna make her grow some thorns and it was sad she didn’t know anything about her mom 🥹 so i was very happy she got to know about her through Jeongi uncle, him looking out for her and sending a doc for a general check up and choosing a contraception method after their first time was sweet jjsjssjsj he’s so soft for her <\3 his family is sp wack so i was glad they could have a little celebration by themselves for his birthday TT💕 and her finally saying yes 🥹 and i love how he goes feral when mc is in danger, Jeongi in this scene: 😡👿👹👺🤡💀 > He fists his hands and gets on the table, kicking the glasses and bottles with his foot< And mc family is super annoying like what’s their deal 😭 her wack ass father sold her up and then her brother and him were tryna poison Jeongi and all like what for wtf they are so selfish and self entitled i hate them sm they never cared for mc or her happiness smh ANYWYS Joon getting fed up with then being all over each other was funny 😭 and I’m glad mc was able to become stronger and I’m glad it wasnt because of Jeongi horrific methods 🤡 still sad she had to go through sm shit bc of her fam I’m glad they got each other now ❤️‍🩹 and the epilogue was soooo lovely Jeongi is so dumb 😭 in a endearing way like why did he even think it was a good idea to kidnap my poor H jjsjsjsjsj him getting anxious and angy bc H is good looking is so jsjsjsjs pls hes so cute such a dork AND HIM ASKING IF HES THE FATHER WHEN THE MC TELLS HIM THE GOOD NEWS LIKE HELLOOOO WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE PLS USE YOUR LAST BRAIN CELL MY CHILD oh im so done with him only forgiven bc hes cute ohhh and i dont even want to admit how much i cried my poor H explaining the speck of white was the northern start <\3 that was literally my last straw, my 13 reason NO BUT REALLY THAT WAS SO SAD TO ME LIKE PLS i love this kind of angst i feel well feed ñom ñom ñom it was a turmoil of emotions but a very pleasant and warm feeling at the end thanks to the main couple in short another amazing work! Ily you always outdo yourself i love all your works i will always cheer for you 💕 ALSO I SAW YOU WERE TAKING A BREAK I WILL MISS YOU BUT TAKE CARE DEAR I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON ❤️‍🩹

You really did back with a feedback and I love you for that! 😘

Thank you for the kind words, they're really encouraging and lovely. I feel so loved and I appreciate you so much, THANK YOU 🥺❤️

[yourturntosimp]

Hey there! I loved the Keiji x Reader x Alice so could I request some more? Yandere of course, just them finding out Reader snuck out in the middle of the night. Male or gn is fine!

Could I also claim Heart anon? He/It/They pronouns!

A/N: I'm sorry in advance if this one sucks bc i'm rusty as hell NBVCVBGNH-- glad to have you here, Heart anon! (Also, i’ve only noticed this js before i’m posting, but i’m sorry that this one is so short!! i write in google docs so i dont rlly think about how the hc length transfers over to tumblr formatting <///3)

TWs: paranoia mention, Keiji is mean, unnecessary amputation mention, mention of leg breaking

♡ Keiji is probably the first to notice when you leave ♡ i feel like he’s probably a light sleeper, and also chances are he was either in the middle of a nightmare or already awake– ♡ he’ll let you think you’re sneaky for a bit, waiting to get up until he hears the door, window, etc close, and then he’ll wake up Alice-

♡ which took a minute bc mans could probably sleep through a tornado–

♡ and ofc, once he figures out what’s happening, Alice starts freaking out ♡ bc you’re outside??? On your own??? In the middle of the night??? ♡ he’s hurt that you’d try to run away, but his main concern is your safety ♡ Alice strikes me as the “handyman who may not know what he’s doing but it works out in the end” type sooooo ♡ they decide that Keiji will go get you, and Alice will just stay at home and make sure that you wouldn’t be able to even dream of running away again ♡ if you left through the windows, good luck doing that again while he’s jamming them shut–

♡ have fun trying to leave through the door when he’s changed the locks, and now it locks from the outside as well ♡ don’t ask how he did this in a timely manner, im doing my best <///3

♡ Now, Keiji is more annoyed where Alice is scared ♡ like, seriously? They treat you so well, and you have the nerve to run away from them?? ♡ since he’s less panicked than Alice, he’s able to concentrate more on thinking about where you’d go

♡ and considering how none of his “friends” have contacted him to say you’re with them,,, ♡ he narrows it down to either your family (if they live nearby), or an actual friend that he’s let you keep ♡ and since he also hasn’t gotten any panicked texts from Alice about your family sending the police their way,,,

♡ you’re on your way to a friend’s place, 100%

♡ so of course, he does the only sane thing to do

♡ just when your friend’s front door comes into view, so does Keiji-

♡ and he doesn’t look very happy with you tbh

♡ you can’t even try to babble an excuse, turn to run, or do anything before he’s got you by the back of your shirt

♡ of course, he would never raise a hand against you in public! no, never

♡ but he will mock you for being such a dumbass ♡ did you honestly think that they wouldn’t notice? that’s a bit rude, isn’t it? ♡ the way i’m getting annoyed from my own writing fucking bye–

♡ you really thought you would be able to escape with no means of transport? You do realize that cars are quicker than,,,well, you, right?

♡ you realize how much trouble you’ve caused? Not only did he and Alice have to wake up in the middle of the night to come find you, but you’re not even thankful for it, are you?

♡ if you think he’s bad, Alice is arguably worse–

♡ he almost starts sobbing when you two get back <//3

♡ the way he’s worried about you would be sweet if the circumstances were different and you weren’t being taken back to being held captive in your own home–

♡ where were you???? Do you have any idea how worried he was???

♡ you could’ve gotten hurt, or kidnapped, or killed, or something worse, and how would they have helped you out of any dangerous situation if they hadn’t noticed that you were gone?

♡ but because he’s the nice one, he’ll forgive you, this once

♡ you must’ve been half-asleep, right? Or you just sleepwalked? Or you were just confused? Because surely you wouldn’t do anything so reckless on purpose, right? ♡ it’s alright, though, because now they’ve got new safety measures to make sure you don’t make the same mistake! ♡ don’t complain, because he initially proposed just chopping off or breaking your legs to stop it from happening again <333 ♡ the only reason this didn’t happen is bc Keiji deemed it as too harsh for a first-time offense and also cleanup would be alot of work this late into the night–

♡ mhm yep Alice is still the nice one idkwym--

♡ good luck leaving home ever again after this little stunt, btw

♡ bc that friend who you tried to run to? ♡ they’re either mysteriously too afraid to speak with you or whatever method you had to contact them is just cut off altogether

♡ on the bright side, at least your boyfriends are so willing to excuse your actions! And now they’re spending even more time with you, isn’t that nice? ♡ i’d advise against being inconsiderate of their generosity, though ♡ after all, if you even think to try something like this again, they’ll have to actually go through with Alice’s idea

♡ and i don’t think anyone wants that, so it’s best for you to just stay placid for now <333

[pocketramblr]

Hiiiiiii, Pocket! For the ask game, I would love an AU where Doc Ock adopts Peter, please!

you spoil me, my love

- Ok so we're moving the timeline up, Spiderman 2 happens when Peter is 17, the paper on fusion is for a scholarship for college he desperately needs to afford it. Everything proceeds mostly as normal, Harry is barely 18 and pulling a Tim Drake, Spiderman is eating up Peter's time, and then he gets to go meet Dr. Octavius, who still immediately goes "wait this kid is neat and my wife would love him" and invites him to lunch with Rosie and to the demonstration.

- the demonstration, naturally, goes wrong. Ock's arms pull a horror movie and when he stumbles out to the marina to figure out what happens, he's convinced to turn to crime and do Whatever Is Needed to complete the experiment right this time. He remembers Peter questioning his calculations, and decides that as well as money and materials, he needs the kid to double check the work. And since they'll be hidden, there's no way Osborn or Pym or Spiderman could show up to sabotage them again!

- sorry, did you say 'adopt'? i heard 'kidnap'. He scoops up Peter who's like "?? Dr. Octavius?? what the hell??" and not reassured by being told he'll let him go once the experiment goes well. he's then chained up and told to start doing math while Ock goes and shakes down Harry for the resources. Harry is like "ok i'll do it for spiderman, peter knows where he is" and Ock is like "oh good thats handy, i already kidnapped him" and harry is like "wait what". he's starting to regret but no time for that, Ock leaves to go ask Peter where the spider is. He finds the calculations not done and Peter missing, escaped somehow.

- Ok, fine, Ock is smart. He can work with this. He goes to Peter's house (arms hidden) (no sunglasses) and talks with Aunt May, saying he's sponsoring Peter for a scholarship and needs to do some work with him today. Peter walks in and freaks out about his Aunt being held hostage, though she scolds him for being rude, and Ock is just like ":) dont worry my dear boy :) i'll be out of your hair as soon as you do the calculations :) by the way do you know where spiderman is?" so peter begrudgingly does the math, correctly as best he can, and then runs upstairs to suit up as soon as Ock leaves, thanking May but saying he cant stay longer for dinner. (No, May is not flirting. Otto's wife died like two days ago! May just thinks that after Ben and Norman, it's nice to see Peter having some guidance, she's perfectly willing to adopt him as another father figure for him.)

- Ock just doesn't die due to *handwaves* whatever reason not important. He does take back control from the arms a solid 70 percent of the time though, and he does keep crashing Peter's place trying to mentor him. (its as thanks for helping him.) Peter keeps trying to get him to leave, or adopt someone else. Adopt Harry, he needs the guidance! Otto makes a face at that suggestion, then just says he wants to keep an eye on the bright young man, see if he's using his gift, if he's making Rosie proud too.

[takaraphoenix]

I normally don’t talk about the requests I get on here (only in private with my friends), but since the person’s not just been rude, entitled and creepy, but ultimately ended up blocking me for not wanting to write their 8k bondage porn, I figured this is one I gotta share with the world. It’s such a wild ride.

So yesterday, I got a request for a story.

[”Hello there! I read your most recent work and found it very engaging. I was wondering if you might be interested in writing for me on a new story. and I have details and a brief plot idea already. Ideally, I’d like it to be 8000 or more words, a fully detailed, fully descriptive, fleshed-out fan fiction with good build-up and banter/interactions between characters. I am available during the hours of 8 am - 10pom Est, although I might be able to go a little outside those time to accommodate your schedule. I’d love to finish it within a 30-day period. We can either stream via zoom, twitch or google Docs. I am totally open to any prep or research done beforehand. I really look forward to hearing from you! Thanks!”]

8k is a very demanding request, but if they have such a defined word goal, they have to have an intricate plot, right? Sounded promising enough with the “good build up and banter/interactions between characters” and having details and a brief plot idea already. And the message ended polite enough too! So sure, I’ll hear you out, even if it’s a very demanding length.

But then I reached their “availability” and the mention of “zoom”, which completely threw me off, I couldn’t make heads or tales of what exactly they wanted from me there. So I asked for clarification.

[”I’m glad you liked my fic! Though I gotta admit, I’m very confused as to what this message means? I need some clarifications there. Starts out sounding like a fic request (though, pro tip to that: include at least fandom and ship in the opening message when you make a request, it lets the conversation progress quicker!). But then you offer a schedule and talk about streaming and that just leaves me completely confused. So... Uh, please explain why there’s a schedule and zoom suggestion/what it is exactly that you want here? ^^°”]

And, I kid y’all not, this person wanted to watch me write their request. They wanted me to write at specific times where they would be able to watch me do it. The entitlement of how this was, somehow, for this person a foregone conclusion. There was no question of “Would you be okay to live stream, I’d like to watch you write it?” (which would still be incredibly creepy but it’d at least be a question, not a statement).

[”I put the scheduling cause thats when i want it done and i would like a mature story can you do one i have a fandom in mind?”

“can u do a mature story for descendants i have a idea?”]

At least they finally volunteered the fandom though. Still, the whole assumption that they would get to watch the story be written bothered me so I kept pushing for them to flat out say it.

[”You still haven’T named the ship and you also still haven’t really explained the schedule/zoom thing?”]

Now, the “most recent work” from me that brought them to me was a Percy Jackson slash fic focused on mental health and recovery. You would think that if said fic brings a person to one’s doorstep with a request, it would be... vaguely in the same ball-park, right? Wrong. Could literally not be farther apart if you actively tried to find the polar opposite of that story.

[”their is no shipping it would be a bondage story with girls tied up and gagged is this ok? the schedulin is pretty self explainatory what dont u understand about it”]

As you see, still very much refusing to actually name the fact that they want to watch me. And still only giving bits and pieces about the story they want. If you want a bondage fic about specific girls, that set of girls would count as the ship! Name what you actually want.

[”It’s... really not self explanatory. WHY is there a schedule? I understand that you would want it done in 30 days. I do not understand the purpose of why you give when YOU have time and what the purpose of zoom would be in the setting of a story request? In your first message, you said you want banter/interactions and a good build up between characters. Then you said mature. And now you say there is no ship. But if you want banter and interactions and you say you have details, that kind of does suggest that you have a specific set of characters in mind?”

“i give that time because thats when im awake and when i would like it worked on because i would like to watch it as its writtern why is that so hard to understand yes i have characters in mind for it yes do you understand now?”]

Finally, they say the thing. And saying “yes I have characters” but... why not include them. So now that they actually, explicitly put to words what they want from me, it was time for the rejection, because I am not going to be watched writing what the fuck.

[”It’s hard to understand because in my 20 years in fandom I have literally never heard of something like that?? And no, absolutely not. (Also you’re... still not NAMING the characters you have in mind; “yes I have characters in mind” is probably more letters to type than “chara x and chara y”. Like, genuinely as a tip for the future, if you have a request for someone, include in the first message right away what fandom and what characters/ship you want. Or at least say it after the other party asks for it. It generally helps authors to know if they are willing to take a request when they actually know what the request is.)”]

I figured that the “no, absolutely not” is a pretty clear no. Like, the clearest I thought that I could give. And I included a little piece of advise for their future - even said that for the future, which indicates not for the now because this conversation is over - because genuinely, if an author has to pull every tiny piece of information outta you and ask repeatedly before getting said info (asked three times what characters were involved, am only about to receive the answer now that the conversation is over, so after the fourth time and that’s bonkers to me).

Amazed how their inclusion of a schedule and the mention of zoom are super obvious to get, but my inclusion of “no, absolutely not” apparently wasn’t, because that’s what I got next.

[”the characters are mal, evie, uma dr faciler daughter and more ok?”

“frollo daughter, and many other i would like a story where the villain girls from descendants are tied up and gagged can you do this i have details”

“i have a list of the girls in the story i want”

“1. evie 2. mal 3. Uma 3. dr. facile daughter 5. daughter of Frollo 6. daughter of sham Yu 7. daughter of long john silver 8. daughter of rourke 9. Percival C. McLeach daughter and dizzy ok?”]

So this 8k “fleshed out fan fiction” with “details” and character banter and interaction (which genuinely all did sound promising and was what kept me going in the beginning) boils down to Descendants bondage porn.

And let me mention that, aside from the misspellings, five of these ten characters they list don’t even exist in the franchise? They wanted an 8k kink fest with five canon characters and five OCs.

Now, when I came online after an hour to all those messages, I figured one more time, to be really clear, but already knowing that this is going to be the last message I’m going to send this person.

[”The ‘no, absolutely not’ was a declination to any such voyeuristic fic writing and... I’m not really seeing much of a story here from what you’re giving me either; you just wnat 10 girls getting tied up and gagged? That’s not really my jam.”

“they would be kidnapped and captured as hostages ok u can come up with the plot ok?”]

Apparently, the repetition of “no, absolutely not” and the inclusion of “That’s not really my jam” weren’t enough to convey the message of no. I ignored them and went to bed and when I woke up this morning to check the convo again to see how it ended because a friend asked about the thrilling conclusion, I realized that they blocked me.

And that’s why we’re here. I usually don’t share requests, because even if they are not my cup of tea and I decline them, it’s private business and to each their own ships and kinks. But if you’re going to be a major creep who wants to watch me and who then blocks me for saying no to the request, after being super pushy? This was too wild a ride not to share it with the public.

[dirt-str1der]

Awesome amazing sexy trans thoughts on polycombat? (I am sucking up to u rn)

SDFKBFHIDSYF HI Get off anon so we can kiss !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have no idea what poly combat is but im going to assume its madness "gaysex" combat's one and only au where the dissenters are so in love

Now i know youve noticed that everyone in madcom is trans but especially doc and sanford their tboy swag levels are off the fucking charts. But also san met 2b when he was pretty young so when doc was like huh ? Oh yeah i can hook you up on T he was like WHAT !!!!!!!!!! And doc is like yeah lol i do top too , and san was like @_@ !!!!!!

Also i like to think that dei (being their most recent member) literally didnt realise that 2b was trans until he just .. forewent wearing his binder one day and dei was like ........ DID YOU ALWAYS HAVE TITS ? AM I CRAZY ? And sanford was like DEI YOURE BEING SO RUDE RIGHT NOW , and 2b was like why're you looking ? :smirk:

Anyway being transmasc and nb isnt easy but thank god hank is king gendered and can do anything. I wanna believe deimos and them didnt get along at first because they first thought he was too shy, then they thought he was too annoying so... huh , they still dont get along BUT they hang out to watch tv together and m-maybe c-c-c-cuddle. Deimos is very good at reading hanks body cues unlike san who treats hank like their beloved pet tiger (San: Why are you looking at me hank .... are you hungry ? | Hank: O_O) , but he uses it for evil because and only tells the worst fucking jokes to try and make hank cringe

Im not even gonna extrapolate on sanmos theyre literally married in canon and this carries over faithfully. This is getting long so more under cut

This is a bonus but because i have a policy (2b is nevadas most overworked bicycle) he and jeb have an on off thing going on because hes jebs t dealer but they also think each other insufferable but they still go out sometimes because sometimes you really cant control which dipshit you get attracted to. Like yeah if 2b calls him up because he needs him for a job jeb will come running but it will NOT stop him from berating doc for his fucked up and unethical experiments the whole time and 2b is like we had sex before marriage we're both going to hell fuckass

2b's feelings on the auditor are complicated because on one hand seven foot tall flaming demon but on the other hand .... "my ex was actually unbearable BEFORE she transitioned i just stuck around because the dick was insane". Hes like youd be appealing if you stopped trying to kill me right after flirting and shes like ^_^ ok next time i will just kill you on the spot okay?

San and dei share the strap

I have a lot more to say but this is absolutely going to delve into me writing about 2bs extremely complicated relationship with the rest of the cast but i WILL tell you this: he and hank are qpps

[i-lovethatforme]

I hope you’re doing well and having a great week 🫶🏽 My heart still hurts from “ghosts that broke my heart before i met you” it was sooo good but wow I keep thinking about it even a week after finishing it! You’re an amazing writer and it’s so awesome that you’re somehow doing all of this for free. Do you accept donations or coffee things that I have seen other fic authors do? I just want you to know how much some of us appreciate your work - so please please ignore the rude anons that you get sometimes that demand an update or give unnecessarily harsh critiques. You’re so kind and deserve that love given back to you!

I am super excited to see your upcoming work! I just finished “the things i would like to tell you” and that was so cute and fluffy! I loved it! Super excited to see how “if you love me, leave me lonely” and “dont make it harder on me” turn out - no rush though! I am willing to wait months lol.

If I wanted to get into writing, what tips would you suggest?

you are SO CUTE IM GOING TO COMMIT A CRIME??!?! like SO CUTE. no, you don't have to give me anything, silly!!!! my heart bursting at your ask is enouuuuuuuugh. i do write for myself but i also liveeeee for people enjoying it and letting me know!

awhhh im excited for those wips as well! 'don't make it harder on me is gunna be next! i have some time off at the end of the month so I'm hoping to power thru some wips and I'm super excited about it! you're such a sweetheart i will cry.

omg join us! ummm - i think the main thing is to just go for it? like don't necessarily feel you have to open a doc and just GO. maybe a little plan and then flesh it out? as in what scenes you wanna see! and if that doesn't work for you maybe try writing down whatever it was that made you want to write the idea you have? so any dialogue or scene vibes or plot points!

i start a lot of fics w (1) idea and it'll look a bit like this (this is an abandoned wip shock xxxx)

so like // is anything i need to add at a later date aka all the fic? i use it for words i cant think of, anything i need to look up but cba rn! it's my fave tool bc i don't spend 20 minutes thinking of another word for 'really' when we all know I'm going to use the word really anyway!

--- is for scene changes and i just shove those in whenever i feel like i want one? i do not care about bridging as you will know.

don't be afraid to try an idea! don't be afraid to abandon an idea either! don't think about how anyone else would write it - just do wtvr feels best to you? overuse words! do wtvr you want bc it's supposed to be funnnnnn and enjoyable.

also, you can write and not share it if you want? i do love me some external vali but i also write stuff i don't share at all. like just little scenes i wanted to read but they're not enough for a drabble or i cba to edit it or wtvr!

ALSO, the beeest thing i did for my writing was start talking to people that also wrote (i say like i was talking to them first but wtvr!) a supportive friend can go a long way! from ideas to reading it for you to just ranting about vibes! pick meeeeeeeee. if you ever wanna chat about an idea or something just askkkk! or anyone else you like! but dm me if you ever want! or msg me on discord wtvr :)

hope you do write if you want! so v excited for that! thank you for your kind message and i hope you are having a LOVELY DAYY xxxxxxxxx

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 3)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge.

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna​ for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3.

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki needs to ask a favor to Vince Neil, in order to keep someone safe.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead​ @i-dont-like-rice​ @nikki-sexx​ @smokeandmirrorz​

Bittersweet. That was the best way to describe Nikki’s emotional state as he got teleported in front of Vince’s house. They weren’t the biggest fans of each other.  He was always so annoyed by his singer, whom he considered more of a diva prince than a front man.

Sometimes Vince Neil was a stupid spoiled fucker, in his opinion, yet he needed him. What made his blood boil the most was that he had to put his pride to the side, because this wasn’t about him but about Tommy, and there was no way in hell he would have disappointed him again, even if that meant having to deal with the blonde’s bullshit.

He decided to get in the blonde’s house but without showing himself at first.  He wasn’t being avoidant ( absolutely not) but just he wanted more time to think, that’s all. The first thing he noticed was how different Vince’s mansion looked from Mick’s : outside there was a big pool, in which the clear water was shining thanks to the sunny day, meanwhile the inside was mostly white and gave the whole house a very elegant and snobby atmosphere; however it was very messy too, which was a huge disappointment.

It reminded him of the singer: face of an angel but inside he had his demons. Who didn’t to be honest? Unfortunately Nikki wasn’t so lucky to get an angel face to hide his dirty soul, he felt like everyone could tell how fucked up he was.

Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice Vince passing right through him, talking on the phone in an exasperated tone.

“I know Doc, you repeated that hundreds of times! Yeah , I’ll call Mick and Tommy and we will do this fucking conference!”

There was a small pause.  Doc was probably answering back, and Vince looked like he was about to smash the phone on the ground.

“What’s holding us? We fucking lost our bassist, our friend and brother. Jesus, I fucking get it that you want our money but show some fucking mercy, bastard! Fuck you!” He violently put the phone down, only to fall ungracefully on the couch.

The whole conversation made the bassist laugh out of anger.  He knew Doc was all about money, especially because they made his life a living hell, but Vince appearing concerned about his death was honestly so fake.

What? Were you saying that Vince Neil was mourning him? The guy who kept fucking up the band over and over again was sad for him?

“Fucking Nikki, real dick move you pulled there!”

Nikki didn’t wait one second before sitting on the couch and making himself visible to the blonde.

“Oh Vinnie, that’s so rude to say.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vince screamed,  trying to back away but just managing to fall off the couch.

The other man couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Nikki, is that you? What kind of joke is this?!”

“Yeah. Look it might sound nuts but I’m a ghost. I’m dead and couldn’t pass through because I have unfinished business to solve.”

If looks could kill, well Nikki would have died again judging by how Vince was staring at him. He saw his face turning into an angry snarl before he started to yell.

“What the fuck, Sixx?! You die, leave us all alone and then you even have the courage to stay a fucking ghost! You fucking selfish prick!”

The bassist felt his blood boiling, well not literally but he got the same feeling as if he still had blood pumping in his body. How did Vince dare to say such things? He was the selfish prick, he was the one never caring and always causing trouble.  He was destroying the band!

“I’m a selfish prick?! I didn’t decide to fucking die! I put my heart and soul in the band and you kept destroying it. Now you want to accuse me? Fuck you!”

“You didn’t want to die? Oh well, what did you think would happen if you kept injecting that shit in your veins. We are fucking screwed now, without a bassist and ready to split up!”

Oh that was funny! Vince wanted to shame him, as Nikki was the only one drinking and fucking up with drugs. Oh sure Mick, Tommy and him could do anything but Nikki dares to shoot up, oh he’s a junkie! However he knew it was different, it wasn’t a simple way to party for him... He needed it to be alive. He had tons of pages written in his diaries that could be used as a proof.

“Oh because you’re such a saint, aren’t you Vinnie? I’m the bad one, I’m the one out of control. Well guess what?  The only person I hurt was myself, meanwhile we can’t say the same thing for you!”

It was a low blow, a terrible one and Nikki knew that. Rage blinded him, but that didn’t mean he had to dredge up the past, especially on something as horrible as Razzle’s death.

Good job Sikki, great way to get your friend to do what you want.

Vince’s face turned red, his fists clenched and got up to Nikki’s nose. He looked like he was about to punch him, but he had to realize it wasn’t going to happen since the bassist was not tangible, so he kicked a small table.

“You’re the only one who you hurt? What about the band, the fans, all those people you lied to and made suffer. Most importantly, what about Tommy, Nikki? How is he? Because it doesn’t look like he wasn’t hurt when you left him all alone, when you preferred shooting up instead of caring for him.”

Tommy. If he knew Vince’s weak point, the singer knew his too. It fucking hurt so bad, now he was the one wishing to be able to slap him.

“You don’t know a fuck about me or Tommy. Shut the fuck up!”

“Oh, I know all the times I saw him scanning the room around hoping to find you, all the times he looked heartbroken when you disappeared in the bathroom during rehearsal. I saw him after you destroyed him, how he still loved you even if you threw him away like trash. His two worst nightmares came true: you left him and you died. So tell me again Nikki, how did you just hurt yourself?

He wasn’t about to cry, even if he felt like a thousand legs were kicking his chest, he wasn’t about to give that fucker the satisfaction to see him crying ( he probably couldn’t even do that). But after the pain came the realization : he was there for Tommy. He was angry to forget that this wasn’t about him but about the drummer, and he probably ruined everything.

Now the hard part came : swallowing his pride down and convincing Vince. Oh, he would probably torment the bassist as slowly as he could, but eventually he had to accept.  Fuck, the two of them knew each other since high school!

“How’s Tommy?” His voice was so low, he doubted the singer heard him, but somehow he did.

“Oh, so now you want to know how he is?!” His voice was still loud and angry, but he must have seen the desperation on Nikki’s face, because he decided to answer anyway. “ He’s a mess. I just talked with him very briefly, he wanted to know if it was real. Then Doc fucking occupied this phone like it was his bitch, so I haven’t called him again, yet.”

This wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, it wasn’t fucking reassuring at all… Fuck, literally anything could have happened, Tommy could have hurt himself or left the country and this was all because of him. He just hoped his family was going to be close to him, he was loved, they would have never left him alone. That was supposed to be his job too, but he failed.

He failed his sweet Tommy.

“Sixx, what are you thinking about?”

It was the moment. Even if his heart wasn’t beating, he still felt the oppressive pressure of anxiety.  He wanted to run but he had to do it.

Swallow your pride. You fucking owe it to Tommy.

“Vince, promise me that you’ll protect Tommy, no matter what.”

“What?” The blonde was visibly confused and how to blame him!

“You were right, I broke Tommy and he’s going to have such a hard time. He fucking loved me, even if I didn’t deserve it, and now I’m terrified he’s going to destroy himself. You can’t let that happen!”

“Nikki…”

“I fucking love him Vince. I still love him so much.  He deserves a good life, I can’t ruin him even in death. He needs support.”

“Why me? It’s not like Tommy and I are best friends.”

“Because both you and him have known each other for a long time, and when the band will keep playing there’s going to be you, him and Mick left. He would never tell his stuff to Mick and he has something else to do, which means that you have to do it.”

A dry laugh escaped from Vince’s mouth.

“What if he doesn’t want to get helped?”

“You know how to get what you want. You’ll find a way, I’d do it but I’m a little dead… look I know you hate me but I’m only asking this. Like I said to Mick, this is my dead man’s wish.”

“Okay.” The voice was so low and Nikki barely had the time to react before Vince disappeared in the kitchen.

All his insecurities came back to eat him alive. What was even the point of being a ghost if he still had feelings? The truth was that he wasn’t sure on how much Vince could help, sure having someone close to Tommy was good, but he knew his boyfriend and fuck if he was a stubborn fucker.

His boyfriend.

It was a dagger through his chest, yet it still felt warm like the first time Tommy called him that. His face always lit up whenever he said it. The drummer always made loving him seem like the easiest thing in the world, as it was even possible to love someone like Nikki.

But Tommy did and what did he get in return? A junkie boyfriend and eternal heartache, because the love of his life was dead now.

Vince came back with a beer and softer expression on his face. Nikki didn’t move from the couch so he sat back to where he was.

“I will do it. I’ll keep an eye on Tommy.” His firm voice eased Nikki’s worries a bit.

Fuck, he never expected to see Vince Neil agreeing with him.

“Thanks dude, I know you hate me but Tommy didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t hate you.” His voice was shocked and the bassist had to suppress a laugh.

Yeah sure Vince Neil, not hating Nikki Sixx.

“Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you weren’t happy to hear I was gone.”

“Fuck no. Nikki we might have fought a lot and you were a fucking pain in the ass, but I’d never want your death. I cried, you were still my band mate and brother!”

He wasn’t sure why this whole conversation was hitting him so hard.  It was probably because he didn’t know how to react to the simple act of someone caring for him beside Tommy. Especially when this someone was his singer.

But did they really hate each other as they thought they did? If the roles were reversed, would he be happy about his death?

“I felt the same. Ya know, when we thought you were dead in the car crash.”

Vince gave him a small sad smile.

“Maybe we can bury the hatchet. You don’t follow me for eternity and I won’t talk shit about you in interviews. Deal?”

“Deal.” Nikki smirked.

It’s time to go, Nikki.

The same sense of helplessness he felt before with Mick, came back. Because he could pretend everything was somehow normal, until the voice reminded him that this wasn’t his place. Even if in this case it was for the best for him to go, considering how awkward it felt for both of them to be so friendly with one another.

“Vince, I have to go now.”

The singer made an expression between sad and relieved, but maybe for the first time ever, it was genuine.

“Don’t be a stranger. Send us some bottles of Jack or some strippers from hell, okay?”

Nikki let out a chuckle. Since when he was laughing with Vince Neil?

“I’ll try my best. Vince, keep the promise.”

“He loves you. You should visit him, he deserves to say goodbye to you one last time.”

He knew that, he fucking knew that already! It didn’t matter how hard he was trying to avoid that, he was going to go to him anyway, not only because Tommy deserved it but because he was selfish.

He wanted to see him one last time too.

“I know. I’m going to go to his house next.”

Vince seemed happy and gave him a small smile. Nikki took a deep breath and got out of Neil's mansion, feeling every type of emotion.

God, now it was show time.

[yongtxt]

hundred [johnny]

word count: 4.5k words

characters: boxer!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: blood/wound/stitches mentions, johnny hates hospitals but he likes the pretty doctor, [im not a doctor nor a boxer pls dont say that i have info wrong because I Know]

author’s note: i know this isnt long to some of u but to me it is and i havent written this much for so long im so proud of myself for finishing this:( it isnt that good but this is the first long fic ive written in a while and shhsdjk also i needed to get this out of my system ive thought about this au since that jcc came out where johnny and hyuck was doing muay thai plssss (i couldnt find a better gif tho) ok this is getting too long / feedback is appreciated tysm

Johnny Suh hated hospitals with a burning passion.

It wasn't from a past trauma nor was he afraid of it, it wasn't that serious. He wasn't exactly sure what the cause of it really was. If he had to make a guess, it was probably from the accumulation of the little things, the insignificant factors people would usually dismiss but bothered him enough that it contributed to the big hatred he built for hospitals.

Maybe it was the distinct smell of hospitals, it reeked of death and old people. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the fluorescent-lit hallways, always gloomy and heavy. Maybe it was also the fact that the fees were so expensive and yet the food they provide tasted horrible, even the coffee was a hit or miss. The only upside he could think of was people get better in hospitals, but even that wasn't assured.

Despite how much Johnny despised hospitals, he always finds himself coming back. If he wanted to get better, he had no choice but to go. He would endure the gruesome process over and over again whether it be to treat his wounds or to stitch his cuts.

With his jaw littered with small bruises and his lips busted at the corner, he sat impatiently on the hospital bed as he waited for his doctor. He was fiddling with his fingers, knuckles bruised the same way his face was. He looked beaten up, he always did.

The clothes he wore contradicted the state he was in, they were fresh and laid back. He looked like a college student from the way he dressed. A delinquent more like, if one considered his cuts and bruises. Before heading to the hospital, he always makes it a point to shower and make himself appear presentable to the public. Although no one really bothers to take notice of his effort, only him.

The sliding door opened and Johnny's attention shot up from his phone, his gaze meeting with yours. Your head popped in, peaking through the small crack you made. Your eyes lit up in recognition as it always did whenever you see him.

"Youngho-ssi?" You spoke almost as if it was a question, voice barely above a whisper to make sure you were in the correct room, about to tend the correct patient.

Johnny didn't understand why you always did that, call out his name as if this was the first time you were seeing him. At that point, you've been already acquainted with him enough due to his numerous trips to the hospital. Either way, he nods every time.

You gave him a small smile, widening the door enough so you could enter. You wore a white lab coat, a name tag pinned to your chest and a stethoscope hung around your neck. You were small, although anyone compared to him was bound to be comparatively smaller – that wasn't the point, you looked young and that never fails to astound him every time you go through the door.

You had a clipboard in your hands, scanning through what he assumed to be his condition that a nurse had written earlier after a quick checkup and disinfection of his open wound. Your lips were formed on a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. He continued to stare at you with such amusement.

"You don't have to answer my question, Youngho-ssi, but why are you always here?" You finally broke the silence, startling him in the slightest. You never bothered to ask before, always just offering smiles and small talks while you did your work; maybe his sudden regularity of coming to the hospital recently made your curiosity peaked.

He couldn't blame you. Anybody would be curious why a 24-year-old man keeps coming back to the hospital with no clear explanation.

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, he never liked saying his job. He said, "I box for a living."

"Ah, that makes sense!" Your eyes visibly glimmered, absentmindedly jotting down notes on his medical records. "My coworkers and I thought you were in a gang or something."

"I don't think I would be allowed to be here if I was." He chuckled, making you giggle as well.

"Seo Youngho, 24, minor lip laceration in need of immediate suture." You read of his data from the clipboard, almost comically. It was medical terms he was unfortunately already too familiar with, to him, it basically meant that he had a busted lip that needs to be sewed shut.

"You can just call me Johnny. Youngho sounds too formal to me." He said nonchalantly. You nodded your head to his simple request; it probably was best if you got to know him better since he frequented the hospital so much.

"Alright, Johnny. We'll start the process now, okay?"

With keen eyes, he watched you slip on a pair of surgical gloves. You grabbed a tissue from the metal tray that sat beside him and began folding it into squares. He felt his heartbeat quicken, he hated getting stitches or any form of medical treatments for that matter, but as morbid as it was, he thought of it as punishment for his recklessness in the ring.

"Isn't boxing just, I don't know, senseless violence?" You asked, tone dripping with pure innocence and unadulterated interest as you gently dabbed away the remaining dried blood the nurse failed to clean earlier.

"It's a sport, it's how I bring money to the table." He pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that surged through his nerves. He visibly relaxed when you placed a hand onto his shoulder to reassure him.

Ever since the first time you got assigned to him, the first thing he took note of was the softness of your hands. You handled him as if he was fragile glass, despite how he easily towered over you. He felt pathetic as a 24-year-old but your gentle touches would greatly help put him at ease.

"I guess. I didn't mean to be rude." You were hesitant, Johnny could tell but he was glad you didn't push on any further. He couldn't handle explaining his occupation when you were about to pierce his skin. "Okay, Johnny, now that your lip is clean and the anesthesia had seeped in, we'll start. I think you know how it goes by now."

"Make it quick, please." He nodded, squinting his eyes shut at the mere contact of a surgical pen grazing over his gaped lips. You were relieved that his cut wasn't too big, you couldn't stomach the idea of putting him in too much pain for longer.

As you picked up the tweezers and string of nylon, you couldn't help but laugh at the six-foot boxer in front of you who was clearly petrified of getting stitches, "This will be done as soon as you know it. You won't really feel it because of the anesthesia, remember? Now count to a hundred backward for me."

Once the numb feeling of nylon dragged through his lips, he swore he saw white spots flicker in his vision. His eyes immediately watered and he tried his best not to squirm under your hold, beginning to count to a hundred backward like you had instructed him to. You admitted it to him the first time you stitched him that it was a trick that you learned from your pediatrician friend. Despite it being for children, it helped to get him distracted while you focused on your job.

Minutes felt like hours, Johnny had been fighting the urge to punch something, anything, to release tension and nerves. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a peak and tried to take his attention away from what was currently happening on his lip. His gaze landed on your pretty eyes, how it was narrowed in focus and how your lashes perfectly framed it.

This wasn't the first time he'd observe you up close, there had been many occasions in the past that you had been too close for comfort in order to tend his wounds. It had been too many that it was almost as if he was close to memorizing your features. You were not only beautiful but you were also a smart and capable doctor.

Eventually, you finished and started to rub ointment on his sore lip — the finishing line.

"Try not to eat anything spicy or hard. You know the drill." You grinned at his suddenly pale features, ripping off your gloves as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room. "You're good to go. Be careful next time."

He let out a shaky breath, clearly still winded up from the procedure, "I'll try. Thanks again, doc."

-

The punching bag felt great against Johnny's fists. There wasn't a feeling in the world that could compare to the impact of leather slamming against his skin. He could last hours mindlessly pummeling the bag if his stamina just allowed him to.

Hyunsik, Johnny's manager and personal trainer, drew away from the punching bag he held in between his arms. He let out a breath and held out a hand to motion that Johnny has done enough.

Johnny was hurting, Hyunsik could see that much. The bandages he had wrapped for the boxer's fingers were turning into a shade of red that they were all too familiar with.

Hyunsik clicked his tongue, "You should've used your gloves."

"How can I grow stronger if I keep relying on them?" Johnny rolled his eyes. His muscles needed a boost and this seemed to be the only logical way to strengthen them — a little blood never hurt anybody.

"Someday you're gonna fracture your hand and you'll be forced out of the ring. Remember that." Hyunsik huffed, his voice stern. "Take them off, I'll clean the blood off."

Johnny reluctantly did as told, unfurling the bandages wrapped around his fingers. The pain was excruciating when the fabric grazed along his tender skin, he winced at the unsightly view of his reopened wounds.

Hyunsik led him back outside of the ring to the benches where the first aid kit was. He made the boxer sit down so he could start cleaning off his wounds. It looked horrific, more so than it usually did and he had no choice but to break the news to Johnny.

"It looks really bad. You need to go get that checked in the hospital and have it sewed back." Hyunsik said, taking a wet towel and carefully dabbing it across Johnny's bloodied knuckles.

He didn't want to go to the hospital. Going to the hospital to have his wounds treated meant that Johnny would be medically required to take days off work to let his hand heal. Johnny frowned, "Don't you have an ointment or something that could help? I can't afford to lose a day of practice."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hyunsik rolled his eyes. "As your manager, I want you to be in top shape for your match next week, even if it means sacrificing a day or two for you to heal."

Johnny could only nod. He sat through Hyunsik's lecture on the changes he should make to his dietary plan and the exercises he should do during his temporary break. It infuriated him that he couldn't do anything about it but nod along.

The incoming match that was set next week would make or break his career as an underground boxer. He didn't have the option of missing it because of some measly reopened wounds. If he had to rest to get better, he had no choice but to suck it up. This was his fault anyway for pushing himself too much.

Johnny showered in the locker rooms and changed into nicer clothes that didn't reek of blood and sweat. His hands were stinging but he shook it off.

He ignored the concerned looks other boxers were giving him and begrudgingly made his way to the hospital to get himself checked in. You wouldn't be happy to see him all bloodied again, he thought.

-

Much to Johnny's surprise, it wasn't you who was assigned to him. It was a much older doctor with graying hair and a nose stuck too far up in the air. She was rude and condescending, her lack of politeness to her patients was quite appalling. If Johnny wasn't in such a bad mood, he might've complained already.

God, this day couldn't get any worse.

With a meek voice, Johnny asked where you were and at the mention of your name, his doctor gave him a narrowed look. She sneered, "She's handling much more important cases. Does she know you?"

"I think so." Johnny gulped, unsure of the answer himself.

The doctor's grip was tight and she was hasty. It was as if she was trying to speed through the process to just get it over with. Johnny wanted to cry because he was starting to get traumatized by this doctor's procedure, he didn't want to hate the hospital more than he already did.

He internally screamed for your name as he watched the doctor pull on the gloves. The sliding door harshly whipped open and there you were in all your glory, like an angel sent from above to save him from the devil incarnate who was about to pierce his skin.

You were panting and the sheen on your forehead made it obvious that you ran your way to his room. Johnny's heart leaped with glee.

"Unnie, I'll handle him." You said, unable to catch your breath as you made your way inside. "I think the ER needs you more than me."

The doctor seemed hesitant at first but you tried to convince her otherwise. She eventually agreed and left you with Johnny who had a cheesy smile on his face the entire time since you've arrived.

"So Johnny, what happened this time?" You asked, picking up the clipboard that sat next to him on the bed.

"I overdid the punching during training and it reopened some old wounds on my knuckles. It hurts like a bitch."

You pulled a face, "That's a bit intense."

He chuckled, "It's normal."

"Can I please see it?" You opened your palm so he could place his hand on yours. You observed his cuts and the scabs that were beginning to form around it, it was too deep to let it heal on its own so you made the verdict that he needed to get it sewed back together ⁠— as unfortunate as it was since he was a boxer and he needed his hands to box.

You tugged on a new pair of gloves and began the painful procedure, Johnny started counting down even without you instructing him to. You quickly got to work and stitched back his wounds with your lip in between your teeth

Johnny felt squeamish, he could never get used to the feeling of stitches. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled numbers like it was mantra.

Once you were done, you smiled fondly at your work. You managed to get by with fewer stitches and you felt pride swell up in your chest. Johnny noticed and, as lightheaded as he was, couldn't help but smile as well.

"You're pretty good."

"At stitching?"

Johnny nodded with his cheeks flushed, he made a mental reminder to smack himself in the head later for such a crude comment. You probably thought he was an idiot now.

"I sure hope so." You chuckled, making him blush even deeper if that was even possible. "It's part of my job."

Johnny shook his head in embarrassment, his dark hair bouncing from how vigorously he did it. He mumbled, "That sounded really lame and not smooth, I'm sorry. Please forget I opened my mouth."

You could only chuckle as you apply the ointment around his knuckles. He wanted the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.

"Please let this heal completely, Johnny. Don't apply any strain on your injuries for a couple of days and refrain yourself from carrying anything heavy so that the stitches won't rip." You said, carefully placing down his hand back on his knee. You were gentle as ever, Johnny swooned. "Absolutely no punching for a while."

"I have an important match at the end of next week. Is there any way to speed up the healing process?" Johnny asked, his eyes were almost pleading at you and you blinked at him in surprise.

"Apart from what I just said, there's really nothing else you could do." You pursed your lips, watching his expression visibly deflate. "If you want to have even a sliver of a chance at winning your match, I suggest you do as I say. Your stitches won't take too long to heal, I promise."

If Hyunsik was there with him, he would've probably already scolded him but the point would be the same. He had always prioritized Johnny's health above winning.

"Okay, doc. I'll do my best." Johnny said, defeated.

"You know, I always see the aftermath of your matches and your training. I want to see you in the ring next time when you're not bloody and beaten up yet." You smiled at him and you swore that all the color that was previously drained from Johnny's face came rushing back. "If it's okay."

"Are you serious?" Johnny asked, almost dumbfounded. Did the pretty doctor he'd been crushing on for months really just asked if she could watch his match?

You nodded with the same hue of red now tainting your cheeks.

"O-Of course! It's on Saturday next week! Please come and cheer me on!" Like a little kid, he excitedly rambled on about the details about the upcoming match and you nodded with the same enthusiast as you wrapped bandages around his hands.

You weren't from his world so everything he said sounded foreign to you. The terms he said, the infamy of his opponents, the prominence of it all — you were eager to learn it if it meant seeing him this happy.

You've always known that he hated hospitals. It was clear from the way he acted during your first meeting. He was stiff and tense, the body language he exuded just screamed that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. As he visited the hospital more and more, you noticed the hatred never faltered. He only became better at hiding it from you.

To see him so relaxed and carefree within the four walls he hated with all his being, it was a breath of fresh air and the feeling you had in your chest grew stronger.

"You're good to go. I promise to see you in your match." You were jotting some last-minute details on the clipboard and you missed the way Johnny kept grinning like an idiot. "As much as I love seeing you here, I hate that you keep getting yourself injured. Keep out of trouble for me, Johnny."

You left the room without letting Johnny say another word.

Fuck, Johnny realized he hadn't asked for your number.

-

Johnny's match started in ten minutes. His heart was pounding in his ears, he almost couldn't hear what Hyunsik was shouting to him.

The underground stadium was filled to the brim with people, he felt more nervous than he did during his first boxing match. A lot was at stake for this win, he needed the belt. He was desperate for it.

"Johnny, are you listening to me?" Hyunsik raised his voice, aggressively slapping Johnny's cheeks together in his hands so he could focus on him. The boxer's mind was fleeting and it was his job to pull him back to reality now.

He hadn't seen you since last week and as much as he wanted to go back to the hospital to see you, he refused to badly hurt himself in the days that led up to the match. Johnny scanned the crowd for your face but he couldn't see it. You weren't there.

At the lack of your turnout, he failed to mask his disappointment. Hyunsik let out an aggravated groan and pulled the boxer on his feet to berate him further.

"Johnny, please for the love of all things holy, look me in the eye."

"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I'm listening."

"Good because your match is starting soon and I need you to win this. All your hardships and sacrifices boils down to this match, you hear me?" Hyunsik bellowed, trying his best to keep his voice louder than the cries and chants of the audience. "Show them what Johnny Suh is capable of!"

Johnny nodded fervently, forcing himself into a state of serenity of peacefulness. He let out heavy breaths to even out his breathing as his team surrounded him, prepping him for what was about to come.

Hyunsik raised his hand at Johnny. He had five minutes left until his match started and he wasn't calming down.

"Can I please have some water?" Johnny asked and his medic stumbled on his feet to fetch him a bottle from the nearby cooler. He couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle, his team seemed tenser than he was.

He downed the bottle as soon as it reached his hand. His hand was shaky. Goddammit, why was he so nervous?

At the corner of his eye, he saw Hyunsik making his way over to the barricade that separated his corner to the rest of the stadium. He arched his neck in a way that would let him take a peek what was so important that Hyunsik had to leave his side when the match was starting in a few minutes.

It seemed like Hyunsik was trying to stop a girl who was forcing her way in through the barricade. His stomach lurched at the sight of her familiar face.

As if he was acting purely on instinct, Johnny shot up from his seat and ran towards you. Hyunsik held up his arm to stop him from going any closer to you. You could've been a deranged fan, for all Hyunsik knows.

"Johnny-"

"I know her."

Hyunsik was startled at his response and started to profusely apologize to you. You looked nothing but smug and Johnny let out a breathy laugh that helped unravel the knots in his stomach. The boxer quietly motioned for him to take his leave and Hyunsik hesitantly did as told only after tapping his wrist as a sign that time was ticking.

You bowed at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry I'm late! There was this damn patient-"

"It's okay. You're here now." He cut you off, a cheesy smile on his face. You easily reciprocated it back.

"I just came down here to wish you good luck." You said with the usual confidence in your tone gone and now replaced with a sudden timidness and bashfulness. "Not like you need it or anything."

"Where are you sitting?" Johnny asked, noticing that you were struggling to keep your attention on his eyes. He peered down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on, he chuckled.

You pointed near the walls of the stadium and he strained his vision to see so far away. He pursed his lips and let out a noise of discontent. You said that it was the only seats available because you were so late.

"Why don't you sit here with them? They wouldn't mind." Johnny said, jutting his thumb over to his team who was furtively watching his interaction.

"Oh no, it's okay."

"I insist. I want you to see me win up close."

You blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Johnny grinned at his successful attempt at a flirt. Was it even a flirt or was it an ego stroke? Either way, it didn't matter because you were smiling at him. You were easing his nerves and you didn't even know.

"I got out of my shift early so I wouldn't be in the hospital later to stitch you up." You teased, softly prodding his shoulder blade.

Johnny playfully puffed out his chest, "I don't plan on getting too injured today, I wanna look cool in front of you."

"Whatever you say, Johnny."

"But I'm nervous. I'm actually really nervous today." Johnny mumbled as if he didn't want anyone else in on your conversation, gone all traces of his cockiness as his heart thudded erratically against his chest when he heard Hyunsik's call of the last minute until he has to go inside the ring.

You gingerly reached for his taped hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Just count back from a hundred like I always tell you to. You'll do fine."

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" And so you did.

Counting down the numbers, Johnny clambered inside the ring and the bell rang to signal the start of the match. Being in the medical field meant that you were against all forms of violence so you couldn't really watch the entirety of the match without feeling sick to your stomach. Johnny didn't care, he was just happy that you kept your promise and was cheering him on.

It was hectic and everything was happening all at once. It was loud and everybody was screaming. This wasn't your world, it was Johnny's and your heart fluttered at the thought that he was willing to let you in it.

Eventually, the match ended in Johnny's favor and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up in the air. You had the biggest smile on your face, similar to Johnny's who now had a shiny belt slung over his shoulder. All his hard work and all his trips to the hospital paid off.

"Congrats on your win!" You exclaimed, placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself.

"I wanted you to see me get the belt." He admittedly sheepishly, reaching out to hold your wrists in his bruised hands.

"Aren't you hurt in any way? We can drop by the hospital if you want." You asked, checking to see if he had any major injuries but true to his word, Johnny was inflicted little to no injuries during the match, exclude the few bruises on his jaw and a busted lip

"Actually, I'd rather we get some coffee instead." Johnny said, the small smile on his lips making you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I don't date my patients." You smirked at Johnny's crestfallen expression, softly shoving his side to make it known that you were only joking.

Johnny pulled a face, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding once he realized your joke. He played along, "I think you can make me an exception, I don't usually invite people to my matches."

"So this is about getting even, huh?" You were teasing him and now your faces were merely inches apart but before Johnny could even think of leaning in, you spun around and grabbed his hand once more. "C'mon then, my treat!"

Johnny let out a laugh. A boxer and a doctor, who would've thought?

[afoolnottoloveu]

moonlight ♡

Summary: Spencer wants to go to sleep, but Reader doesn’t wanna break tradition (WC: 1.6k) {Masterlist <3}

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (intended she/her but technically gender neutral)!Reader (could be read as platonic or romantic!!)

TW: none!

A/N: i was supposed to post this on the 29th.. we dont talk about it its okay its fine everythings all good, I ALMOST FORGOT thank you to gracie for beta reading this!! she’s the first one on the taglist at the end if you wanna check out her amazing work as well mwah, n e ways enjoy :0

Playlist Pairing: it’s not a singular song this time, listen to the inspo playlist here! 🌘

_

You rushed up the stairs, praying to some deity that you would catch him before he sent himself to bed or was too immersed in some book to answer the door. JJ had called you 7 hours ago, so it wasn’t surprising that you somehow didn’t notice the time passing, plus the fact you had to get gas for your little trip.

Rapping at the door insistently, you were delightfully startled when Spencer opened the door only a few moments later. He was still in his work slacks and button up but tie-less. A quick glance behind him and you could see he had been making himself tea, and the satchel by his feet couldn’t have been dropped more than 10 minutes ago.

“Peanut?”

You were too elated that you had caught him to respond, instead opting to attach yourself to his torso. “You’re back! Oh my gosh, I was so worried you wouldn’t make it back in time, but luckily JJ called me that you were getting back today, but that was over like 7 hours ago, and then I got worried I wouldn’t make it here before you went to bed--” you rambled, but Spencer quickly brought you back down to Earth by removing you from his torso.

“Y/N! What’re you doing here?”

“We’re going on a drive, duh!” you said, before grabbing his wrist and making it halfway out the door before being pulled back.

“Now? I just got home from two back-to-back cases, and it’s almost midnight.”

“Spence, we can’t break tradition now! Unless Mr. Eidetic Memory forgot what tomorrow is--” you interrupt yourself with a very exaggerated gasp, earning an eye roll from Spencer.

“Of course I know what tomorrow is but--” Knowing he would only go on and on to list reasons why he shouldn’t come with you, you used your last resort, the “puppy dog eyes.” All Spencer did was stare at you, both of you knowing fully well that he was capable of resisting, but he didn’t like to. After a whole minute of unnecessary intense staring at each other, Spencer let out a groan and turned around to walk away, which you thought meant that he was going to bed. Instead, you were pleasantly surprised when you heard him half-yell from across his apartment, “I’m just getting my keys!” You squealed excitedly, knowing what was ahead of you both that night.

~

Your car was small, a basic silver Toyota corolla you named Carrie. She smelled of gas and was decked out with teddy bear head pillows and keychains that you asked Spencer to buy, hanging from the rearview mirror, (but only from the cool states). You even kept a tan knitted blanket in Carrie, which Spencer was now wrapped in.

You couldn’t help but notice Spencer’s infatuation with the moon tonight, as he took a long sip from one of his two cups of hot cocoa you guys had picked up on the way.

“Is it a full moon?”

“No,” he said--not in a rude way, just quietly and quickly, like he didn’t want to take his focus away from the moon or it might disappear.

So, you let him be. He was most likely tired, and despite tomorrow, which most people would be restless for, he probably just wanted rest. You almost felt guilty, but your tradition was important to you, and you could only hope that it was important to him as well. 

“Did you know the full moon is one of the most powerful symbols in astrology? It can represent one’s emotional instincts, habits and private aspects of one’s personality. It’s said that while the sun sign of someone represents their head, their moon sign represents their heart. Though, most astrologists say the moon is heavily compulsion-based. Similarly, someone’s sun sign depicts their actions, but their moon sign depicts their reactions,” he told you, still gazing, almost longingly at the moon.

“I didn’t take you for an astrology type of guy, Doctor.”

“I have knowledge in many areas, Y/N, I thought you knew this by now.” You snickered at the understatement. “If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating,” he quoted.

“Plath--are you flirting with me, Doc?”

“Never, peanut.”

You rolled both your eyes and the windows of your car. Hopefully the blanket and cocoa was enough to warm him. All you wanted was to not blow out his eardrums as you turned up the music. Night Changes by One Direction was playing, and you reminisced on the fact that he originally had never heard of the band, causing your binge session, which consisted of watching their documentary and listening to all 5 of their albums straight. He told you he thought they were okay and he saw the appeal. What he didn’t tell you was that his favorite album was Midnight Memories, but if the way he was humming along to the song now was any evidence, you could’ve been a profiler.

You two listened to your playlist, made specially for the tradition, (Spencer insisted you always pick the music on these trips, since you weren’t very interested in classical piano) and besides the melodies, a comfortable silence encompassed the car for the most of the ride. As the road started to incline and your destination started getting near, you broke it.

“Can you believe-” you started, earning Spencer’s gaze from the sudden conversation, “Can you believe the audacity the calendar has, to change dates in the middle of the night, just like that, while we’re sleeping?” Spencer couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out from him. “Like tomorrow… You’re gonna wake up and, and you’re gonna be one year older.” When you said this, you couldn’t help but steal a look at him. He wasn’t making eye contact, just fidgeting with his fingers, but the small smile was there.

“Just like that,” you finished, as you pulled onto the edge of a hill. 

When you showed up at his apartment the night you got your driver’s license, you found this spot. This was your guys’ cliff. The one you guys found on accident, when your car ran out of gas on your first night of the tradition. The same one you guys have had a handful of picnics at and late night rambles about both of your favorite things. Covered in the blanket of light that the moon so graciously provided, it was perfect, and it was both of yours.

Parked atop the hill, you turned off the car and turned to Spencer, who went back to admiring the stars. You were just about to tell him that you would be right back, but you decided he was a little busy, and so you quickly shuffled to grab the box he wasn’t aware was hiding in the trunk.

He finally noticed your disappearance when you came back with a lavender gift box in your lap and an excited smile on your face. “Oh Y/N, you know you didn’t--”

“Save it, Spence. Just open your gift,” you demanded, shoving it into his arms and the smile on your face only lingering. He rarely received real gifts, only for Christmas. You were essentially his only non work friend, and he told everyone at work that he never wanted nor needed anything.

He repeatedly blinked, yet carefully removed the lid. He first saw the small brown envelope which contained a gift card for the local coffee shop near his apartment. Underneath that and the matching lavender tissue paper, he found a tie of no other color than purple and two pairs of socks, one of colorful stripes and the other of baby tardises. (You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but he appreciated the references.) The whole time smiles adorned both your faces. The last item was a copy of The Alchemist. It was one of the main books you two had bonded over, and only a few weeks ago, someone had spilled coffee on their copy. Spencer was against buying another one, saying he could literally recite it in his head word for word if he ever wanted to again, but you stubbornly insisted that it didn’t have the same sentiment, (and of course you were right).

He took the book out the box and held it by the spine as he flitted through the pages, taking note of the annotations, your annotations. When done, he closed it and only opened the cover, finding your heartfelt message. 

Dear old dear old Spence,

I know you’re probably gonna read this in .02 seconds, and probably right in front of me at that. Unless we broke tradition. But I trust that I convinced you. (It was the eyes, wasn’t it?) Regardless, I wanted to wish my very, very best friend a happy birthday. You alone are so strong for going through all that you’ve gone through, stuff that no one should have to even imagine. You are one of the strongest people I know. You need to know that I’m proud of you, Spencer. I’m beyond grateful for you, for having such a caring, resilient, and just incredible friend as you. I hope I don’t need to remind you that I will be here for you, through anything and everything. See you in 500 years :)

Love, with all my heart, Peanut

In only a handful of seconds, he shut the cover once again, and the happiness (and slight gleam) in his eyes became painstakingly evident. “This is your copy?” He asked, mostly rhetorically, because he knew it was. At this point, he was lightly sniffling between words. “Thank- thank you, peanut,” 

“It’s no problem Doc,” you smiled and lightly punched him on the shoulder, “happy birthday, Spencer. I’m glad we didn’t break tradition.” And by the look on his face, well- you were no profiler, but you could safely assume that he was just as glad.

-

Taglist: @bxbyspxncer @goldenxreid @prettyboy-reid @rottenearly @rainsong01