#and being in the hospital all the fucking time does not help. at least i have a full ride to community college.

[mosscrab]

ouuughh. college </3 sorry rambling vent in tags i'm gonna be okay i'm just tired

[steddieas-shegoes]

four times eddie gets carried and one time he does the carrying

one

Eddie opens his eyes to chaos: a heartbeat under his ear that’s furious, a voice echoing just above him yelling profanities and directions, hands digging into his legs and side that should probably hurt.

But nothing hurts.

He can’t feel anything, actually.

Which is probably a good thing considering the last time his eyes were open, he was dying.

Maybe he is dead. Maybe this is Hell.

But he catches a somewhat familiar scent, and he turns his head towards the solid but soft wall holding him.

He must make a noise because the voice vibrating against his face stops, the movement under him stops, and a different panic ensues. He’s not sure what’s being said now, too focused on the comfort he’s feeling.

Maybe it’s not Hell. Maybe he’s found his way to Heaven.

But that’s Steve’s smell and Steve isn’t dead. Is he?

Eddie’s eyes open and he finds just enough energy to make a small noise, one that wouldn’t have been heard in the chaos, but definitely gets heard in the silence surrounding him now. He hates silence. He hopes if he’s dead, he can at least hear some music sometimes.

“Eddie?”

It’s definitely Steve’s voice, and Steve’s smell, and probably Steve’s strength holding him up.

“You don’t have to talk if it hurts, but can you tap my chest if you can hear me?”

Eddie could do that. He could.

His hand was already brushing against Steve’s chest as they walked, so he lifted a few fingers and brushed them against the material of Steve’s shirt.

“That’s good!” Steve sounded pretty thrilled about such a simple touch.

Eddie was familiar with being touch starved, but he didn’t think Steve could be this bad off with all the times he’s been practically glued to Robin.

“St-“ he tried to say his name, maybe get some answers for why he was being carried, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“It’s okay. I’m getting you safe. We can fix it,” Steve was walking still, but no other voices could be heard anymore. It was like the world had narrowed down to only them. “I promise I’m gonna fix it.”

“Mkay.”

Blackness clouded Eddie’s vision again as he lost consciousness.

two

Eddie’s physical therapy sessions in the hospital sucked, but the ones at home sucked worse.

At least at the hospital, no one was around to watch him struggle and fail except the physical therapist. At home, Steve was watching and making sure he did everything right, never more than a few feet away in case he needed help.

Eddie could walk with support, but he refused to use the stupid walker the hospital gave him. Wayne found a cane in his room from when he hurt his back a few years ago and told Eddie he could decorate it however he wanted if it meant he’d use it.

And he sure did.

He covered it in black paint, stickers, and had all the kids paint their names on it.

But he still hated using it.

So he was focusing on the walking movements the PT gave him, and Steve was constantly hovering beside him, waiting for any sign that he needed to stop.

“Your legs are shaking, Eds. We should stop for today,” Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, careful not to put any weight on him. “You can do more tomorrow.”

“No, I’m almost to the couch.”

The silence was loud as he looked ahead at where the couch actually was. He wasn’t almost there. He wouldn’t make it.

But he was stubborn, dangerously so, and he was gonna make it.

He took another two shuffling steps, then felt a shooting pain in his side and nearly collapsed.

Steve’s arms were under him immediately, lifting under his legs and supporting his back in a fucking bridal carry.

“Put me down!” Eddie squirmed, but Steve was strong. “I was almost there!”

“No you weren’t and you were gonna push yourself too hard. You would’ve fallen and got hurt and if you get hurt again, it’ll be my fault.”

Eddie’s mouth snapped shut before his argument could be said.

Did Steve think he was actually responsible for Eddie?

“Stevie, it’s carpet. I would’ve been fine,” Eddie said quietly as Steve walked them over to the couch. He didn’t set Eddie down though, just held him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not letting anything happen to you again.” Steve set him down gently on the couch, making sure his legs were stretched out so he could do some of his sitting movements. “I’m not letting you down again.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t let me down,” Eddie stayed frozen where Steve had set him down, unable to even breathe properly.

“I should’ve been there so you didn’t run back to distract the bats. You never should’ve almost died.”

“Steve…” Eddie reached a hand out, tugging on Steve’s hand until he was sitting on the coffee table across from him. “None of this is your fault. I’m an adult. I made my choices. I would’ve made them even if you were there.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Eddie smiled at him, ignoring another sharp pain in his hip. “You know how stubborn I am. Do you really think you had a shot in hell of stopping me once I decided to be a distraction?”

Steve shook his head.

“Then stop blaming yourself. You saved my fuckin’ life, man. You stayed by my side nearly every day since then. You couldn’t let me down if you tried, okay?”

“Okay.”

three

He’d fallen asleep on the couch, he knew he had.

But he was currently in Steve’s bed. Which is upstairs. He hasn’t mastered walking up stairs yet.

How the fuck did he get here?

It was dark except for a hint of moonlight streaming between the curtains and a glow under the door from the hall light that was always on.

He turned on his side and nearly screamed when he saw a black outline of someone else in the bed.

The body moved and Eddie could just make out the hair.

Steve.

He was in Steve’s bed with Steve.

“You okay?” Steve’s raspy sleep voice startled him, his heart rate climbing to probably dangerous levels.

A hand reached out and touched Eddie’s chest, right over his racing heart. Steve’s hand was warm and wasn’t moving away.

“Mhm. How’d I get here?”

“Carried you.”

He couldn’t see if Steve’s eyes were open, or if he was even properly facing Eddie, but he was grateful for the dark hiding his blush.

“I could’ve stayed on the couch.”

“Wanted you here,” Steve mumbled against his pillow, his hand bunching up Eddie’s shirt as he pulled him closer. “Sleep.”

Eddie could think about it tomorrow. Or maybe never.

Maybe this was a dream, or maybe Steve was still asleep and had no idea what he was doing or saying. Maybe he’d wake up and Steve would be gone and he’d never know for sure if he dreamt it or it was real.

But for now, Eddie fell asleep with Steve’s hand against his chest and his body heat keeping him warm.

four

“I don’t know why you picked a spot so far into the woods. Are you trying to murder me? You were just being nice for the last three months because it would be easier to trick me?” Eddie paused to catch his breath. He was admittedly very out of shape, but this trek seemed particularly difficult.

“Are you in actual pain or are you just tired?” Steve asked, not slowing down at all.

“Can’t it be both?”

Steve finally stopped and turned to Eddie, the worried set of his brow almost making Eddie feel guilty.

“We can go back, Eddie,” Steve offered quietly.

Eddie saw the disappointment on his face, though. And he was a little sore, but mostly from being tired, not from actually overexerting his muscles.

“No, I can make it. How much longer?”

Steve looked around for a moment. “Less than half a mile, but most of it is uphill.”

“I’ll just take it slow. Sorry,” Eddie apologized.

“Hey,” Steve was suddenly back in front of him, hands on his arms to stop him, to comfort him. “We can go as slow as you need. We’ve got all day. Need any help?”

Eddie didn’t. He knew he didn’t. He was doing a lot better than he expected, truthfully.

But if it kept Steve’s hands on him, he was obviously going to say yes.

Steve wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him over a particularly large log.

They continued in silence, but Steve’s arm never left his waist, and Eddie’s breath never quite went back to normal.

When they were almost at Steve’s destination, Eddie lost his footing and nearly face planted into the wet soil. But Steve tugged him back just in time, until his back was flush against Steve’s front.

“Let me help,” Steve said against his ear.

His hands went under him, lifting him up in the familiar bridal carry that seemed like second nature for them at this point.

Steve held him close, made sure he had a good grip, then started walking forward.

“You don’t have to do this,” Eddie barely whispered. He felt a bit ashamed, that he couldn’t do something so simple, that Steve felt like he had to help, that he was a nuisance.

“I want to.”

Neither of them spoke again until they reached their destination.

Steve didn’t put him down at first, walking over to a clearing that looked out over the lake.

Eddie had no idea this was even accessible to people, had only ever noticed the cliff from the edges of the lake and assumed it was just untouched wooded area.

“This is a nice view,” Eddie said as he looked around. He could see a lot of the outskirts of town, even some of the surrounding areas that were mostly untouched by the events of spring break. “Can already see some stars.”

The sun was still up, but it was near dusk. The walk back would be dark if they didn’t leave soon.

“Yeah,” Steve finally set him down on his feet, but didn’t put any space between them. “Wanted you to see it.”

Eddie watched as Steve’s hands fiddled with his sweater, a nervous habit that he noticed back when he was still in the hospital. He’d never mentioned it, wasn’t even sure Steve knew he was doing it, but he always offered his ring-covered hand as a replacement.

Maybe it was a little selfish, but Steve never seemed to mind.

As soon as Eddie slipped his hand closer to Steve, he started toying with his mood ring, a gift from Dustin when he got out of the hospital so they could tell how he was before asking. It didn’t actually work, but they all thought it was fun.

“You come out here often?”

Steve shrugged. “Not as much since Vecna. Don’t really like being alone anymore.”

“Yeah. I know what ya mean.”

They stood there in silence again, looking up at the stars and out at the vastness of rural Indiana. Steve moved on to fidgeting with another ring, spinning it and twisting it every way possible.

“Wayne asked when you’d wanna move back in with him. Said he’s settled in the new trailer and can get your room set up whenever you’re ready,” Steve finally said.

Eddie turned to look at him, noting the shakiness in his voice. He was biting his lip so much, it was a miracle he wasn’t bleeding.

Something was off.

He’d been staying with Steve because it was easy, it was best for everyone to have easy access to a bedroom and bathroom while he healed, and Steve was the only one with parents who weren’t around. Wayne was stuck in the second floor of a motel, which wasn’t ideal for Eddie at all. But now he had a new place, and Eddie could handle stairs now, and it just made sense to go home.

So why did it feel like he’d be leaving his home if he went back to Wayne?

“Do you want me to go?” Eddie asked, bracing for the ‘yes’ he was certain was coming.

“No.”

Eddie pulled back in shock.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean no, I don’t want you to go,” Steve grabbed his hand again, tracing along the outside of his rings, making goosebumps pop up on Eddie’s arms. “I want you to stay. But I know you love Wayne and probably miss him. You should go if you want to.”

Eddie fishmouthed for a moment, unsure how to respond. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew he should probably think about this without Steve in front of him.

“And if I don’t wanna go?”

Steve searched his face for any hint of a lie, but Eddie knew he wouldn’t find one. He wanted to stay.

He wanted to stay with Steve.

“Then you should stay,” Steve choked out, almost in as much shock as Eddie had been only a moment ago. “Stay. Please.”

“In the guest room?” Eddie pushed. He shouldn’t push, but he had to know if this was Steve acting out of fear of being alone or if Steve was feeling the same about Eddie as Eddie was about Steve.

“I was thinking you could stay in my room. My bed.”

Eddie smirked. Steve was a charmer, no doubt about that, but he was clearly nervous, in uncharted territory.

He leaned in, watched Steve’s eyes widen in surprise at the shift in control of the conversation.

“And if I get sharing bed privileges, does that mean I also get kissing privileges?”

Steve nodded, eyes still wide, still shocked speechless.

“Could I start that privilege now?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.”

Eddie had never enjoyed a privilege quite as much as this one.

+ one

“You said the front step was fixed!” Eddie screeched as they stood outside their new home. “Look at it. It’s depressed.”

Steve snorted. “It’s just a little…crooked.”

“It’s barely even attached anymore.”

Steve nudged his shoulder and held out the key. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, no. We had an agreement, didn’t we?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I’ve been training for this moment for over a year!”

“Throwing me around on the bed is not ‘training’, baby,” Steve smiled. “But if you really wanna do this, I’ll unlock the door.”

Eddie grinned and leaned over to pick Steve up into a bridal carry.

Steve yelped when he almost immediately dropped him, his hand fisting in Eddie’s shirt to try to keep from falling.

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” Eddie said, tightening his hold on his legs and shifting him up so that his face was level with Eddie’s. “You know what’s nice about living in the middle of nowhere?”

“What?” Steve breathed out, eyes darting down to Eddie’s lips.

“I can kiss you right here in the open and no one’s around to see it.”

“Then do it,” Steve challenged.

Eddie was always up for the challenge.

He kissed him, smiling into it as he realized this was their whole future. This house, this life, it was theirs.

Eddie carefully stepped up onto the porch, avoiding the worst of the step, and walked up to the front door.

Steve leaned over to unlock it, pushed it open, and waited.

He looked up at Eddie as Eddie stepped through the door.

“Maybe someday we can do this married,” Steve’s voice was quiet, nervous.

“You wanna marry me?” Eddie half-teased. He still couldn’t quite believe how much Steve wanted him, how much he loved him.

“I’d do it today if we could.”

“We could pretend anyway,” Eddie kissed his forehead before setting him down. “We’ve got a lot of rooms to christen.”

“Where do you wanna start?”

“The living room has a fireplace and I’ve had fantasies-“

“Fantasies? Seriously?”

Eddie tugged Steve to him by his waist, captured his lips in a heated kiss. “So many fantasies.”

Steve started walking them backwards towards the fireplace. “Show me what these fantasies looked like then.”

“You got it, big boy.”

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Tim had heard the phrase 'The wrong twin made it home' a number of times in his life, his parents were always very upfront about how the felt towards him. But... 'made it home' doesn't indicate death, does it? ...Tim ends up taking Danny's place by Sam's side in front of Congress to lobby the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts.

...

Tim has been up for hours passed when he told Alfred he would be resting and he's wrapped up his case files into neat little bows to deliver to Babs and the GCPD/Lawyers to do their jobs. Damian had made a comment earlier in their patrol that night about Tim being the wrong sibling to make it to his rescue and... and it got him thinking about that phrase. His parents were negligent with him, certainly, but they were always very clear about how he stood in their eyes. Praise and criticism were the two options, and very strictly limited passes of 'I love yous' that faded as he got older.

He's run his DNA before in the national databases- it was critical for maintaining his Alias' that multiple people didn't flag- but he's never searched in records before. About his twin. About the one who didn't make it home.

And its definitely the lack of sleep, and definitely the lack of brotherly affection he feels these days, but Tim just can't close the door until he's seen a death certificate. He's hacked Gotham General Hospital a million times for work, but doing it for his own gain feels wrong some how and he works with extreme caution. He finds his own birth certificate and... One Theodore Daniel Drake.

Tim snorts with a short ha, pretentious name alert and goes on to find not a single certificate of death or medical record of atypia. Oh no, what he finds is adoption paperwork meant to be closed to all wondering eyes and one Daniel James Fenton leaving the hospital instead. Tim blinks a few times, retraces his steps and then sure enough, learns for a second time that his TWIN was still alive.

Finding the Fentons was easy enough, their Lab address on all of their patents was seemingly also their home address. Danny had a much better hidden internet presence, it was good cybersecurity he'd have to praise him, but Tim had been trained better. Getting into his brother's files... Raised a number of new questions. Why was he compiling evidence against the government? What the fuck was he doing analyzing policy? Why did he have 'rogue' files???

Then Tim hacks into Danny's phone (he's learned at this point that Daniel was a no-go) and sees the conversations between his twin and his twin's best friends.

Sam Manson has an appointment with a Senator to Lobby for the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts. She wants Danny to join her, demonstrate something Tim can't determine, but he's refusing to leave and let his adoptive parents have even a moment to develop a new weapon without him there to destroy it. Someone called CW warned him about changes coming his way or something cryptic. Tim learns a lot from their back and forth, but stops reading once it gets to their personal squabbles.

Tim gets the meeting details and forwards it to Tam- If Danny can't make it... Tim will. And if Tim can't demonstrate whatever Danny was going to, it would at least help to throw around his name.

Tim writes an email to Danny- It's meant to go out after the lobbying appointment- and it explains that Tim found out about him and wants to connect if Danny does, and if Danny doesn't he at least wants to get him set up with his half of the Drake family inheritance. He includes a few personal facts, including that he too ended up adopted in life and had siblings, that he helped run a company and took on the world too soon. It takes a lot out of Tim to be so candid- but he doesn't want Danny to be too blindsided by the Waynes. He attaches a family photo with the label "you'll be able to tell which one is me'.

...

Sam is tapping her stupid, uncomfortable heels waiting for these dumbass, elderly politicians to get their shit together so she can speak. Sam was resourceful and surprisingly, the second she took on politics as a way to waste the family money, her mother Pamela was all for it. She's wanting Sam to run for president now... At least she doesn't complain when Sam organizes protests.

The door behind her opens, and while she knows its not going to be Danny behind her, a girl can feel a bit crushed. She really thought he would be behind her today, but Danny was being weird about this whole thing. Clockwork had him spooked about something changing today, and Danny wanted to be in Amity Park in case it was another Pariah situation or something. His parents had been on edge lately too...

"Sorry, I'm not late am I?" A voice asks and it's just so close but not- Sam turns her head to see Danny in a nice suit with long hair and eyebags way darker than she'd seen on him in a while. This... Wasn't Danny. She blinks, and then something in her anxiously decides that the universe is fucking with her and she will be fighting back.

"Everyone is late." She glares at him, appraising his every move. The woman behind him is typing dedicatedly on her tablet and the man himself looks like he might fall over while he shuffles his files in hand.

"Well, then I'm on time. My name is Tim Drake, I'm here to help your cause in getting the Anti-Ecto acts repealed and the parties responsible for it apprehended."

"Tim Drake? As in-"

"As in Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And I've done a lot of research, so I hope you'll let me play a supportive role while you speak."

"There's no way you've been able to research if you've been out of Amity, The whole city is under a media blackout." Sam's glare looks like it could cut him.

"Not to brag, but that sort of thing doesn't slow me down these days. I've made physical copies of the things they're most likely to delete and I've sent everything to the Justice League, who in turn are sending it to the Lantern Corps." He states matter-of-factly and Sam finally stops being angry at the world to just be... stumped. What the hell was going on?

"How did you... Why?"

"Tam, tell Ms. Manson how passionate I am about human rights?" The guy sounds anxious, the woman rolls her eyes and says "Very." without stopping her typing.

The doors open and Sam has only a moment to decide that Tim can join her... He proves himself to be an asset, and his name alone gets them further than she had anticipated getting today.

....

Danny is watching Sam walk into the space via C-span, gasping when his own likeness follows behind her. What the fuck???

He can barely drag his eyes away as the clone (?) introduces himself as Tim Drake and proceeds to rip them into shreds for delaying Sam Manson of all people. Danny is transfixed and Tucker is blowing up his phone.

"DUDE ARE YOU SEEING THIS?" Tucker's voice loudly calls out the second danny blindly answers.

"Dude, I just, I don't even know? He cant be a clone right? But he's gotta be?" Danny hypothesizes.

"Nah dude, there's like, a whole lifetime of media presence for Tim Drake since he was like, tiny. This is so weird he looks just like you..."

"This is so weird." Danny dumbly agrees because he can't think of anything else to say.

Sam finishes her points, Tim submits the evidence to the court and they leave. Danny's phone pings with an email notification.

"Danny my guy, you should check that, Sam isn't responding yet. Her phone is probably still off."

He follows Tucker's advise and opening his email... Is a new message from Tim Drake.

"...I don't know what the fuck is going on?" Danny continues to say, and Tucker asks him just to read it out loud, "It's just... Apparently I am both adopted and a twin?"

"...My guy." Tucker sounds just as much at a loss.

...

Sam calls them both after Tim Drake is rushed away by his PA Tam (who she found herself admiring more and more), and is relieved when they dont immediately answer by screaming.

"So Danny, Tucker, you guys are traveling with me next weekend." Sam deadpans.

"Apparently shit gets twilight-zone level weird anytime you leave Amity!" Tucker exclaims.

"...What's next weekend?" Danny asks, hesitation in his voice.

"Your twin invited us, well, mostly you, to a Wayne Family Brunch. We're going cause those assholes have money and political influence, you're going because we all probably need to know what the fuck is going on with that guy."

[classypauli]

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹’𝑺 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

Part 2

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Summary: After so long Tara finally meets you again... only this time a little drunk.

Word count: 3k

It has now been a couple of weeks since visiting the hospital. People would think that Tara has already forgotten about what happened but the opposite is true. In those weeks there wasn´t a day she would not think about you. Her mind was repeating what happened and everytime a smile grew on her face. Mindy and Chad started to make fun of her, saying she looked like a kid first time having a crush. She doesn´t care.

Tara wanted to see you, so badly. She started thinking about how to get to see you again, like she would play another attack and go to the hospital, which to be honest was too cruel, or she would just go there and act like she had some examination and suddenly she saw you start to talk with you, then you would ask her to go on a date with her, you would start dating and-

God, she needs to stop. Young Carpenter sighed and put her head on the table. The voice of her professor was muted in her ears, today she felt like sleeping, just laying in her bed all day doing nothing. It was friday and she promised to go to some party. Mindy has been talking about it forever.

„Mindy I´m not in a mood right now.“ The girl turned her forehead against the table.

„I didn´t even say anything!“ Mindy scanned the shorter girl, looking for any signs of sickness. „You don´t feel good?“ she asked now with a normal tone. Tara shook her head.

„Well then we should probably call some doctor, who knows, maybe they will help you.“ Tara punched the girl beside her, making an angry noise from being teased on.

„Who does he think he is?!“ Tara was angry. They were currently at the party Mindy talked about. Everything was fine at first, everyone was minding their business, and they danced and drank, talked and joked around. It was so much fun.

But that fun soon disturbed that idiot Frankie. He was being himself of course and was trying to get with every girl there, including Tara. But the girl wasn´t in the mood for his stupid games. At first, she ignored him but as soon as he was touchy and started grabbing her to go upstairs, she became furious.

She yelled at him so hard the boy even flinched, wasn´t expecting this behavior from a sweet girl like Tara. Yeah, like she was some easy prey. He then became angry and embarrassed but knowing a lot of people were around him he couldn´t do anything.

„He is a prick Tara forget about him.“ Mindy was standing beside her watching as her friend was getting more alcohol into her cup. Tara wasn´t really drunk, yet at least. And after this incident, she just wanted to get alcohol into her system to forget about his ugly ass face.

„Like...“ the short girl let out and furious sigh out of her lips. „he is such a fucking idiot I´m surprised no girl has punched him yet.“ Tara shook her head at the bitter taste as the alcohol touched her tongue. Maybe she will be first.

„Oh! And on top of that-“

„Tara.“ Mindy said from her side but she only continued, she didn´t even notice the hand of her on her right shoulder.

„-he even-„

„Tara.“ Mindy said a little louder through the loud music that was playing in the house.

„Fuck Mindy what!“ Tara looked at her friend, raising her voice a little. She wasn´t angry at her, of course not and Mindy also knew that, but Tara had a short temper.

„Apollo at 9 o´clock.“

Tara turned pale. Her eyes widen and her body becomes stiff. She felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. What did she say? No, that can´t be. The only person they were calling Apollo was...

„Tara fucking turn around.“ Mindy said between her clenched teeth as she kept looking at the way she told her to look at.

Tara took a big breath trying to calm her beating heart and shot her eyes to the left. There was a group of friends chatting and laughing, they had beers and cups in their hands as they were standing by the side of the room so as not to disturb anybody.

She scanned the group and suddenly saw the familiar figure she had been so desperate to find these past weeks. You were standing there in your civil clothes and cup in your hand. Your bright smile could be seen from every spot of the room, smiling at your friends as you were talking about something, sipping on your drink.

„Tell me I´m not crazy.“ Tara´s eyes kept looking at you as if she was afraid you would disappear again. Her chest kept rising and falling at a fast speed.

„No Tara, you´re definitely not.“ Mindy may only see you from a photo but this was definitely you. You looked far better in a person than in a photo, she must tell.

The young Carpenter turned to Mindy with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. „Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?!“ she quickly looked at her clothes if they looked fine. „Do I look good? I don´t have anything between my teeth?“ she smiled widely showing her teeth Mindy to check.

„Stop Tara! Calm down.“ Mindy took her shoulders to make her look at her. „Okay okay stop right now. No, you don´t have anything between your teeth. You´re fine.“

Deep and slow breaths were the next thing she needed to do or she would have another attack and that would be pretty embarrassing. It was just you. Yeah, just the cute doctor who took care of her at the hospital. Yes, only you, as if you were someone special-

Of course, you were special! To her! She wanted to impress you so badly. The girl was always thinking about the ways she would meet you again, what would she say to you, what would she be wearing, and how she would impress you... She looked like a garbage at the moment.

Today Tara didn´t give a fuck about what would her clothes be or how she would style her hair. She just wanted to have a little fun from studying and enjoy the night with her friends.

She looked at your way one more time and your eyes met. You squint your eyes at the girl as if you were trying to remember something. She quickly turned her head to Mindy, a scared look swimming in her eyes.

„Mindy. She saw me.“

„And now she´s making her way here.“

„No, that can´t be real.“

„Oh yes, it is.“

„No no no no.“ Tara shook her head to left and right trying to put herself together. She wasn´t ready to face you. This is not how she imagined your second meeting.

„Hi.“ Mindy looked at you and greeted you back. She took Tara again by her shoulders and turned her to you.

„Hi.“ The short girl said as she was now looking at your pretty eyes. You were smiling at her like you were the first time you saw each other.

„I´m sorry I didn´t wanna disturb but... I think I know you.“ You now lowered your eyebrows a bit and kept scanning Tara´s face.

What? Do you know her? Oh my God, you remember! The girl´s heart started beating in her chest as she now realized that. You wouldn´t remember if she didn´t catch your attention, right? Right?!

„Uhm... I-“

„Oh! I know! You were in a hospital! I knew you were familiar.“ You smiled widely at her, you looked happy that you could remember after all a lot of people came through your hands every day.

Tara breathed out as she looked down. „Yeah,“ she laughed „you got me.“

„Oh, you okay now? You had any complications after?“ You kept asking her as you scanned her face and body, not in a disgusting way. But let´s be honest, Tara wouldn´t mind that either.

The shorter girl smiled softly, playing with her hands as she was softly swaying her body to the sides like a small child. „No no, everything has been fine since then.“ She smiled shyly at you. „Thanks again.“. You just shook your head like she had nothing to thank for. You were just too sweet.

Mindy offered you and your group to be with them and after the introduction, some went to drink more in the kitchen or went to the dance floor. The three of you along with some of your friends were sitting on a couch in a living room with drinks in your hands, talking and laughing at others' dancing skills.

You were so friendly and your friends too, Tara was looking at you the whole time, listening carefully every time you started speaking so none of the words could slip her. The Carpenter didn´t even notice how much alcohol she drank, guess it was because of the stress from your presence but as soon as she stood up, she could feel everything.

Oh no. Her mind was now spinning, „I´m going to the toilet.“ Mindy offered to go with her as she saw her friend's face. She was drunk.

„Oh my God, Mindy.“ These were the first words that left her mouth as she saw herself in a mirror. Her eyes were down and her face was all sweaty from the hot room and alcohol. Tara touched her cheek at the state and turned around to her friend. „I can´t go back looking like this.“ Her mind was spinning and she barely could control her legs. „I´m so fucked up.“

Mindy was behind her smirking, leaning against the bathroom door, clearly dunk as well. „Tomorrow morning will be fun.“ She laughed to herself, eyes closed from the sharp light of the bathroom.

„Hey! Are you even listening to me?“ Tara went to her but stumbled a little. Mindy laughed at her clumsy friend. She wasn´t as drunk as Tara, she could still walk normally. The only thing she was more giggling than usual.

„Come on, it´s fine. Or do you wanna leave Y/N?“ Mindy asked Tara. „Did you forget about how you were these couple of weeks?“.

Right. She can´t do that. She needs to get your number, at least that. They went to the group again but with each step they took the alcohol in their system could be felt more and more. Tara was now so drunk that she laughed at everything she saw. The girl sat beside you again but this time a little more closer than she was before, you turned to her and smiled at her. She giggled at you as she tilted her head a little.

You could see her cheeks were red and her eyes had fallen a little. Every time she was speaking her voice was really loud and her hands were everywhere around the place, even almost smacked you but you were quick to dodge it. Yep, she was drunk.

Tara´s mobile kept vibrating a couple of times but she only ignored that. It was Sam, she was worried about her because they agreed that Tara would inform her every now and then that everything was fine. The first time you caught the notification you wanted to warn Tara about it but then you saw it.

On her wallpaper was your photo from the hospital, the one with all of your colleagues. The photo was zoomed on your smiling figure, it was so cute you wanted to laugh but you couldn´t. You didn´t want to embarrass her so you played like you didn´t see that.

„So...“ Tara hiccuped as she leaned her hand on the back of the couch behind your head. You raised your eyebrows at her as you were trying to hide the smile from how drunk and cute at the same time she was. „How old are you?“ she kept looking into your eyes as if she was trying to seduce you but was cut by a hiccup again.

Laughing at her now you answered her question. „How old do I look?“

„I don´t know, you look really young to be a doctor. You are a doctor? Or you are a student? How old are you?“ Tara squints her eyes at you. You let out a laugh as you threw your head back at her words, closing your eyes in the process.

Tara was drunk smiling at you, showing her dimples. She didn´t know why you were laughing but it was because of her so she didn´t mind. In her head it meant victory. You wiped your unexisting tears and shook your head. „You are so drunk.“

„No, I´m not! Look I can drink more!“ she went to grab a cup that was on the table in front of the couch but you were quick to take it from her hand.

„Absolutely not, you had too much already.“ Tara wanted to argue with you about it but her thoughts were cut by your touch.

„You have really pretty hands. They are much bigger than mine, look!“ she compared your hands and yes, hers were really small.

„And your fingers are so long... I wonder how it would feel inside of-“

Mindy covered her friend's mouth from beside her. She kept listening to your conversation the whole time, making sure Tara wouldn´t say or do something she would be embarrassed about the next day. Something like this.

„Okay, I think we should head home.“ Mindy wanted to pull Tara on her legs but she didn´t want to stand up and leave you. She kept pouting as she sat a little more closer to you almost sitting at your tights.

„Come on, I will go with you.“ You stood up and gently took her hands to help her on her legs. She smiled like a kid and immediately did what you wanted her to do.

 You and Mindy were taking Tara to her home. Sam was now calling Mindy asking about her sister. She had the right to be mad, she let her go to a party under the condition of her texting her if she was alright.

As you were close to the apartment door Mindy left you two so you could be alone. Tara won´t remember it but Mindy for sure will and she will make sure her friend will pay back for this.

„We are already here.“ Tara whined and turned around to look at you as you now stood in front of her door. „I don´t wanna leave you, I wanna be with you.“ The girl hugged your neck as she put her head on your chest to stare into your eyes.

You laughed at her. „Don´t worry, I´m sure we will see each other again.“

„Do you wanna come inside?“ she smirked and dragged her finger around your shoulder, tilting her head to the side softly. The young Carpenter had clearly enough for today.

„You know I can´t Tara.“ You breathe out with a kind smile on your lips.

„I love it when you call my name, it sounds so different, and also your smile and your eyes and-“

The door from her home suddenly opened and there stood Sam. The three of you kept looking at each other shocked written on your faces, waiting till someone made the first move.

„Uhm... hey I´m Y/N, I don´t know if you remember me.“ You smiled kindly at Tara´s sister. She kept studying you a little, then it hit her. Yeah, you were the one from the hospital. You helped Tara and that was all she needed to know.

„Yeah, I remember.“ She then looked at her sister, slowly shaking her head. Tara´s arms were still around you, not caring that her sister could see everything. „Come on Tara.“

The short girl let out a whine not wanting to let you go. She tightened her grip on you and was now looking at you to save her from her angry sister. „You need to let go of me.“ Your voice was so soft, it was only convincing her to stay but your words said otherwise and she needed to listen to you.

Slowly pulling away from and with a point on her lips, eyes big as if you were saying that you will never see her again. You didn´t even leave and she missed you already. The girl just wanted to stay with you.

„Will I see you again?“ Tara asked as she was almost at her apartment looking for your answer. You nodded your head at her, shooting her one of your smiles with a wink.

„Okay... Goodnight.“ She said with a low voice, putting her head down and leaving you in a hallway. Sam turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

„Thanks for bringing her here.“

„It´s fine, she´s amazing.“ You looked from the way she disappeared to Sam. „I guess I will head home also. Goodnight.“ You waved at her and started to walk away.

The next morning couldn´t be worse. Tara woke up with a terrible headache and the urge to throw up, Sam was giving her silent treatment, Mindy kept teasing her about yesterday and she had no way of contacting you. Like she would do that, the girl was so embarrassed that she just wanted to bury herself deep into the ground.

Afternoon Mindy and Chad came, and they kept making fun of Tara and her flirting skills. Suddenly her phone rang signaling a new message.

Y/N:) :Heyy, hope you feel better

What? How did you get her number? It was really you?

„Mindy? How did you get Y/N´s contact into my phone?“ Her friend looked at her with a confused face. „Did you give her my number?“ Mindy shook her head, still looking muddled.

„Maybe she did it herself.“ She shrugged her shoulders. „At least you have her number finally!“

Yeah, at least something but when did you make it? Oh yeah, she probably left her phone on the couch when she went to the bathroom. But if you got your phone number into her phone that must mean...

„Oh God... please no.“ She put her head into her hands, covering her red face from embarrassment.

You saw that fucking wallpaper.

Taglist: @jensortega813 @isawxxp 🤍

[akirathedramaqueen]

Some thoughts on the Western Energy trainwreck

Soo, I've come across that post, and... it made me thinking.

Stolas spent there the whole time, not knowing Blitzø *did*, in fact, send help. He assumed he was all alone, although still had some resemblance of hope, a fragile straw he hang on to piss off Striker, allowing to tear up only when one didn't look at him.

And... hell, I used to see many comments about how Blitzø let him down there... But did he?

Oh course, some think he did, and he surely thinks he did, too. But, although the whole sequence with him and Loona trying to get that S.H.O.T. was a fucking circus and looked like a joke compared to suffers Stolas had to endure and barely survive...

To be honest, these scenes being put together on surface do, in fact, make it think that the whole Stolas being on the verge of death ordeal is a joke to Blitzø and he would rather spend time running around with big needles and stuff.

If to get back to the phone convo between them at the beginning of the episode, Blitzø mentions that it took him 5 years to book that appointment, and it means a lot for him to not miss it. Missing out on that shot meant to put Loona in potential danger, his daughter, and, although we don't know what kind of shots they were talking about, we know for sure what does missing out on a vaccine schedule could mean in the real world - we tend to forget how dangerous polio, for instance, is, as most of us have access to the vaccine and don't get to experience it not even themselves, but in close vicinity as well. For us, vaccines might seem to be some kind of stupid routine, something we got comfortable with in a privileged world, something which surely could be skipped for a day, right? But in Blitzø's one they are luxury.

Despite all of that, I also want to put your attention to the fact that he wasn't going to ignore it. He is speeding up, and I think (although it's not expressed explicitly, but not everything should be, right?), that he already made up his mind that Stolas is a priority.

You are not thinking it's about shots, right? He wasn't that reckless in driving before *that* call.

And! He wasn't even the initiator of Millie and Moxxie going instead of him. *M&M's* were.

And Blitzø trusts them, because why not? They are his employees, they are skilled and capable, and they are his friends as well, they know that shit is important to him (although he isn't willing to admit it himself).

We see also, how Stolas was admitted to the hospital immediately, which already gives a hint on how different their stance in the world is. I wonder sometimes how it would've turned out if Stolas proposed to Blitzø to use the royal influence to get another appointment shortly after Blitzø saves him, but we know he didn't get much time to even think about that. He wasn't even able to finish the sentence before Striker took his phone off him.

To be honest, I don't think the outcome itself would have been much different. I don't think Blitzø would've done a better job at saving Stolas, but, maybe, only maybe, he would've felt better because he was, at least, there for him.

Because you know that shit is going to haunt him till the day he dies. Because it only reassured him that he isn't capable of sticking around for his people.

Because, you know... happened once already.

No wonder he left Stolas's message on "read". Knowing all things before and after, it's not a surprise that he, tending to take all of responsibility for all the wrongs on himself more than he should to, couldn't face the consequence of what he thinks he failed in. He, speaking figuratively, left Fizz on "read" for 15 years, and he kinda sorted it out only because he couldn't run anymore and had to face the trauma as circumstances didn't give him a chance to chicken out.

I wonder what he was trying to tell Stolas. But I don't think we will ever get to learn that.

Aw, crap, I am done here, I am going to go and cry for a little bit. Thanks for coming to my ted talk, see ya in like 5 minutes to experience some Full Moon trauma again, because I can't get over these two. XD

[deadghosy]

SLYTHERIN BOYS WITH A BLACK FEM!READER WHO IS TALL LIKE MEGAN THEE STALLION

A/N: tbh I randomly had the energy to write this late in night cause Megan is so gorgeous!! I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes. Also I looked up the heights of the characters so I’m sorry this seems weird lol.

Honestly, all the Slytherin boys are tall asf..while you stand at 5’10. (Which is Megan’s irl height.) so you still are tall, just not a full taller height than the boys.

Tom is 5’11. Taller than you by an inch. He doesn’t care about your height or his. But he is impressed at how you do tower over some of the Slytherin girls and Hogwarts girls. He thinks you are definitely worth a chatting to.

Mattheo being 6’1 like Theodore, (I’ve always imagined him to be at least a little shorter than Theo) he likes to think you two can be a good couple. You rejected him of course but hey. At least he respects it. He does find it hot how tall you are against some girls.

Draco is only 5’9, so you’re taller than him by an inch. Personally you still make it seem like he’s shorter than you by a lot which makes him mad. But he can’t stay mad at you since it is kinda funny when you do it. And only you. If someone is else did it, he’s complaining to you completely.

Blaise, he’s 6’3. He’s a practically towering over you a bit. But still, you two are giants to others from afar. Every time you two walk together, there’s gossip about how you two look so cool together.

Theodore, being the tall bastard of 6’1. You two are very close in height. So of course you two are kinda like the tall duo.

And Lorenzo for final finds you very beautiful for a tall woman despite the others. He’s 6’0 (had to look at the fancasted actor height. Don’t judge me 🙁) He’s like a puppy in love with you, following you around and helping you carry your book bags and book. Literally smitten with you. Loves when you call him “baby” and cup his face. It makes him melt so fast.

Personally the Slytherin boys love how cool you are, and how you are a very intelligent person. They are like overprotective brothers and friends to you. Lorenzo is full snake mode when it comes to you. Immediately he wants to poison the people who mess with you like a poisonous snake

Definitely Lorenzo is the one. He’s immediately devoted to defend you from people who dare to make fun of you. They are not going to get at you, or towards you. They have to answer to him. Literally.

God when you do a slick back move line Draco but better….you better pray Lorenzo doesn’t go crazy asf. Cause he actually does. He wants to gatekeep how beautiful you are…but he hates it when other men try to holler at you.

And when they fail, Lorenzo is just smiling like a cheeky bastard.

Mattheo always teases the Berkshire male about how whipped he is for you. And Enzo but admit he is. See you’re an unbothered queen. You let haters lol dumb while karma gets to them.

“Hey big foot!” A girl yelled at you from across the great hall. You were just relaxing with your boys when she yelled. You turned around unbothered and looked ahead of yourself. Not giving a fuck if she thinks she can get under your skin. The riddles narrowed their eyes at the girl meanwhile Draco mumble how his “father will hear about this. Lorenzo is immediately sat up which lead you to put your hand on his arm. Calling him down a bit as he looks at you. “Boys calm down. It ain’t worth a second to get all mad about a bitch who can’t do shit but hate.” You say, smirking. You knew karma was gonna get her way. And it did when she ended up in the hospital wing. The thing was you didn’t do a single thing. Someone did.

Honestly Blaise is the person you allow to put your hair in a protective style. And he loves it. He sometimes brag to the other which made mattheo. Being the cocky one, to go up and not demand. Heavens no, if he had demand you to let him do your hair. You would’ve depulso him across the room and out your dorm. So you taught him how to do your hair.

Blaise and you just relaxing, listening to music as you give him a silk bonnet is definitely something that will happen time to time

Draco and you have self care days which bring you two together a lot.

Honestly with you being nicknamed “titan”, Theo would definitely pick you up. Making you two combined as a ladder. The same goes for Blaise as well.

It’s relaxing all day, evening, and night.

They love you dearly and you love them back.

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last hope (part 1)

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. MDNI

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse, out of character leon etc

@dollywons credits for the divider, thank you :))

The pictures used does not belong to me!!!

Chapters: pt2 pt3

“Fuck off” you muttered to your Alex. Today was already as hard as it was. You didn't need him giving you unnecessary advice on how to grief a patient.

Who does he think he is?? You thought to yourself. Listening to a bratty egotistical younger resident telling you what to do when your patient dies during surgery? No. At least you will not tolerate his behavior.

Growing up with a careless single mother in poverty may have made you like this. Always numb and cold. That's just what people think of you.

You weren't always this unattending. In the first year of medical school, you were the nicest and the most helpful student there is. Things changed as your career proceeded within the years. You saw how ugly people can be. They took you as weak and something they can use to get what they want.

Not again. Never again

The loud alarm went off in the hospital wing. You quickly got up as your pager rang. In-room 303, there was a little girl. 10 years old, had a diagnosis of cardiomyopathy. When you were working the night shift and doing regular rounding checkups, she talked about her birthday plan to you.

“I want Princess Jasmine to attend my birthday party. Her hair is so long and shiny and pretty and, and she's pretty. She's also so smart. Mommy promised me she would come” the girl suddenly stopped. After a few seconds she opened her mouth again.

“She said she… she will come if I live… will I live? Doctor?”

You thought about the past as the attending announced her time of death. 23:44. 12th of May, 2015.

Two patients. Two patients. In one day.

Hiding from people, you hugged your knees in the corner of an empty hallway as you sobbed. God. People thought you were heartless. What other choice do you have when you have no choice but to leave your toxic mother who had no other motivation in life other than drinking, to build a better future for yourself. What other choice do you have when you were the best student in the school but had no money for college? Would you rather stay with your mom to take care of her all your life, doing everything that drives you insane or follow your dreams?

Unfortunately for you, your dream was not something you imagined. Burden, depression, exhaustion were the main 3 words you could use for this job.

Not to mention the creepy, flirty attendings. Always being underestimated by the men in the field.

After the long hard 24 hours and arguing with your mentor about your recent research about brain cancer, you took a box with your belongings.

Bitch

The old fat man fired you for standing up for yourself. Why would you allow anyone to take ideas from your paper? Especially if they were your teacher.

Fine. I'll find a better job in a better hospital.

After putting on your comfortable black coat and causing your boss to fire you for no actual good reason, you walked to your car with the box in your hand.

“Fuck” you yelled as you struggled to open the car door with the damn box in hand. In the reflection of the car window at midnight you saw a face behind you. Just as you were going to turn away, something was put around your nose and mouth and everything went black.

Leon grinned to himself as he carefully put the young woman in his jeep. Tonight was the new moon. There was almost no light in the parking lot and he was sure the cameras couldn't catch the glimpse of his face.

He observed her for a few weeks. First he got a little headache and decided to go to the hospital, only to find a little angel for himself.

Leon noticed she was quite unique compared to the women he met before. Even though he wouldn't say she's rude, she wasn't exactly nice either. He was sure he could fix her up nicely to become a sweet little wife for him.

His baby just needed some guidance in life. What would he be if he let go of this girl to become a rude old bitch. Instead she could help the community by giving Leon a family he wanted for the last few months too much.

Staring at his sweet pumpkin through the rear view window, he was planning what to do next. For the last week he had already planned what to do. But his bunny was in a worse condition than he thought. Overworked herself, dressed in sad gloomy clothes. He would strip her out of these and put her in comfortable , cotton pajamas.

And feed her. He knows what she eats in a day. Sad cold dark coffee with a tuna sandwich for breakfast. No lunch. Leftover pizza or burger for dinner. Leon will make sure she eats plenty of vegetables and homemade food that will nurture her.

During the night he changed her clothes to what he had bought for her.

“Just perfect” he muttered as the t-shirt he got fit her perfectly. Hugging her waist, making her breast more prominent. He held himself back from touching her cunt as he pulled down her pants, along with her underwear.

He sniffed her and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent. “I’ll show you how much I love you when you wake up honey. Not yet… Leon… gotta wait” he muttered to himself.

He put a little underwear on her and undressed himself. Crawling next to the love of his life, Leon put an alarm at 4am on his phone.

“The drug should be out by then,” Leon thought as he cuddled her.

After a few hours Leon was woken by clicking on the doorknob. His angel had woken up and was trying to open the door. Leon sneakily grabbed his phone and looked at the time. 3am.

The blonde signed and got up, causing his angel to scream and throw a vase on the shelf nearby at him.

“Get away from me, you freak!” you yelled, almost on the verge of crying making Leon's heart beat faster. He hated seeing you in pain.

“It's okay. It's okay, baby. Everything will be alright.” Leon cooed, getting up from the bed to her.

“Step away!” You screamed, throwing the left souvenirs on the shelf to him.

Leon walked in a few short big steps, in hurry and stopping you before you hurt yourself.

“It's okay my baby. Daddys here to take care of you. It's okay. Calm down. Everything will be okay.. no more work, no more ignoring yourself. It's okay..” Leon muttered trying to calm you down. He gripped your arms tightly above your head while kissing your head.

You squirm while sobbing, trying to kick him.

“What did I do to you?? Let me go.” You demanded squirming more, causing Leon to tighten his grip. Leon kept muttering to you his reassuring words while kissing your face all over when you managed to kick him in the crotch.

He let go of you and inhaled deeply, trying not to lash out on his dove on their 1st day as a couple.

“Y/n…. Honey… calm down…” he breathed out.

After a while of trying, Leon gave up. The constant cursing and screaming were giving him an awful headache, same as the ones he gets after missions.

“SHUT UP BITCH” he yelled at you, shaking your arms. Your eyes widened as you shut down, the room was quite apart from your sniffling and leons hard breathing.

“Please… just… let me go…” you sniffed out. You haven't felt this humiliated and weak since you were a little girl. Since your mother used to beat you after not cooking for her. Since you went against her words. Your childhood wasn't something you liked talking about, nor getting pity from strangers. You wanted nothing to do with the alcoholic bitch. When you were near her, you were a prisoner.

Ironic, now I'm a real prisoner

Leon breathed out and stared intensely. Suddenly he grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him before jumping on the bed. You protested, tried to bite his arm, kick him, scream, call for help, every way. Leon almost tore the piece of garments he put on her before.

“What are you doing?? Stop. No. Stop-” you protested, only for him to shut you up with a kiss.

After the first night, Leon felt guilty. Not because he made love to his lover when she was throwing a tantrum. But because of the way he lashed out on her. For the last few days she was avoiding him, sitting in corners, not eating or making any noise. After a while being a gentleman as he is, Leon decided to surprise his bunny.

“Honey. I'm home” Leon smiled, locking the doors securely. He hid a small box behind his back.

You crawled away from him, to the edge of the bed. Leon reached out his hand to pull your hair back.

“My beautiful baby. Did you miss me?” He grinned stupidly. You wanted to cry. But you didn't want to show him your weakness, especially after that night. Leon frowned as you pulled your head back.

“Look what daddy got you sweet girl. I know you overworked yourself so daddy got you vitamins.” He grinned as he showed the box.

You frowned seeing it. The multi vitamins that had fruit flavors.

“Don't you like it? Daddy got you this one specifically because the pharmacist told me a lot of trying women get it” Leon smiled, placing his hand on your thigh.

You snatched the vitamin to see what it has.

Vitamin D, B6, B12, Vitamin C, Vitamin A, B9

What the actual fuck

“Are you insane??” You yelled. Leon's eyebrows raised. You finally said a word to him after the event, but yelling at him? He can't be having his wife yelling at the breadwinner.

“Dove. Watch your mouth” Leon said calmly, but his grip tightened.

“All I ever wanted for you is happiness honey. We will have many children. Look around the bedroom honey. The outside. Can't you see we are more than available to raise children? You're young and beautiful. We can have children. For now, I'm worried you're short on essential vitamins. And I heard it could affect fertility” Soon his eyes narrowed as he understood it was necessary to take another way.

“I know what I did was… wrong… Maybe you would have wanted me to approach it in a traditional way. But I just couldn't wait for you. Plus… you already know you would have rejected my offer. You were too deep in hurting yourself. I'm helping you. I'm helping us. We're building a future. Together”

“You should go to therapy”

Leon narrowed his eyes again. “Sleep well angel. You're not clearly thinking well” he said, kissing the forehead before lying beside you.

During the night you tossed around. What if you could overdose on vitamins and just end this suffering? There was no one to look out for you. You got fired, the only family you have is an alcoholic that you cut contact with, and no real friends. You were alone in this.

[kirihoon]

BAKUGOU GETTING HIT WITH A TRUTH QUIRK

because why not 🤷🏻‍♀️

cw: tons of curse words

"Bakugou-san, are you okay?" you ask him. You saw him get hit with a villain's quirk earlier. Though he seems physically fine. Well, relatively. He has more than a few scratches and bruises from the fight. Nothing that'll leave a mark tho. You're still worried of how the quirk might affect him.

"tsk. I'm not fine! I'm hurt!" you stood there shocked at his response. Never in the five years you've known him has he ever answered that way. You've heard him say he was fine while being wheeled into the hospital, stabs all over him.

Bakugou is just as shocked at his answer.

That isn't what he meant to say! He's not fucking weak! He's the strongest hero, damn it!

But he doesn't have time to ponder this because you quickly move over to him, checking every inch of his body and muttering that he needs to go to the hospital.

"Oy! I said I'm not fine." He meant to say he was fine! He swears! Please don't think he's some weak ass hero who can't handle a few cuts. "Fuck! That isn't what I meant to say!"

At this point, you're freaking the fuck out. How hurt does he have to be to actually admit it? You don't even register you're surroundings. Neither of you notice the villain tied up and smirking at you and Bakugou's little conversation.

"Are you in pain? What can I do? How can I help? I swear it's gonna be okay. Okay? Don't panic, don't fucking panic!" you say in a rushed increasingly higher voice.

You are definitely not panicking, nope. Bakugou's fine. He's a hero. He's a great, strong, and resilient hero. He's going to be okay. He is. You promise yourself that he is. But, but what if?

Your breathing quickens now. This can't be happening. He can't, he can't do this. You haven't even been able to confess your feelings to him. You've been hyping yourself up for a couple months now, ever since you've decided to admit you like him after a few years of silence. He can't not let you at least say it. Selfish bastard.

"Y/n? Are you okay? I know you're cute as fuck when you're worrying about me but you don't have to. I'm going to be okay."

What. The. Fuck. Where the fuck did that come from? Bakugou didn't mean to say that. Well, it is true, he thinks. But all his blood is now rushing to his cheeks. Blush reaching even his ears and neck.

You're no better. You're wide eyes from panic are now due to you being flustered. Okay, calm down Y/n. There has to be a rational reason why a hero waaayyy out of your league is saying you're cute. Maybe he got hit in the head a little too hard? Maybe it was a quirk that makes him lie or damaged his eyesight or something. Yeah, that's probably it.

You say nothing as you turn around and find a medic who could help him. You practically sprint away from him. Your heart is beating too fast. Maybe you should find yourself a medic too.

Bakugou is left there, embarrassed. Oh no. He's an idiot. Y/n ran away. Of course, they don't like him that way. That sweet angel sent by the gods. How could theh ever like a loud, aggressive, and angry man like him?

He needs to explain himself. Maybe he could say it was a joke. But that seems cruel. Maybe he could say he wasn't talking about you. No, that doesn't even make sense. Maybe he could blame Deku. Yeah, that always works. But how could he make it seem like Midoriya's fault.

He ends his inner monologue and decides he should just talk to you. He found you alone near one of the ambulances, looking around.

"Hey, y/n. Let me explain." Okay that's the easy part. Now, for the actual explaining part. He's a mighty hero, he's taken down a shit ton of villains. Why does this seem to be way harder. "The truth is, I like you. I have for a while now. It's true, you're cute when you worry. Especially when it's about me. It's nice to know I matter enough to you for you to actually care if I'm okay."

Huh? That's both of your reactions. Where the fuck did that come from? This time, Bakugou is the one to leave. Embarrassed and scared of your response.

You catch up to him and grab his wrist. "I like you too, Bakugou-san! I thought I never had a chance with you. Please, go on a date with me!" Your puppy dog eyes stare at him, into his soul. You patiently wait for his response despite your growing anxiety. "F-fine! Dumbass. I should have been the one to ask you out." He says, rolling his eyes. Yet, he still couldn't hide the smile on his face and twinkle in his eyes while staring at you.

Six months later, you and Bakugou are happily together. You and him were sorting through a couple criminals' files for a report when you stumble across the incident that kick-started your relationship. Only then did you realize he was hit with a truth quirk.

-----

Bonus:

"What just happened?" A flabbergasted Midoriya asks as he watched the interaction between Bakugou and Y/n.

"I genuinely don't know." Kirishima answers, looking equally shocked.

The villain snickered, "I know what happened~" he says in a teasing tone. The two men look at him, waiting for an explanation.

"I hit him with a truth quirk, he can only say the truth for a couple hours" he says, smirking despite the chains around him.

-----

"Hey, Bakubro! Who's your best and manliest bro in the whole world?" Kirishima asks Bakugou back at the office. Only the two of them and Midoriya are present. They just finished discussing the logistics of the incident.

"What the fuck? Obviously it's you, Shitty Hair!"

"Aw, Bakubro, you're so sweet!"

-----

"Soooo, Kacchan, do you like, only pretend to still hate me?" Midoriya felt guilty for using the villain's quirk but this was just too good to let go.

"Of course, you're my oldest friend and stuck with me through my bullshit. I'll be a damned fool to actually hate you now." Midoriya straight up just bursts into tears.

He's going to kill these two.

-----

a/n: yey finally finished with this. imagine all the questions kaminari would ask him if he found out.

[lailawinchesterr]

nightmare [dean winchester]

pairing; dean w x fem! reader summary; you go on a hunt with the brothers but when it goes to shit, dean can’t help being overprotective. tags; angst, stitching yourself, alcoholic dean, some you and sam in there cause he's the cutest baby, your dad died.

“fuck! sam, quick, get the girls.” dean runs into the impala forcing the engine to roar to life and flashes his lights at the highest setting for the vampires, burning their eyes as the other four get into it and he drives off.

it's quite for the first five minutes, except for the heavy breathing. the two girls that the trio rescued are sleeping peacefully, though you think it's anything but peaceful. their faces aren't relaxed, instead covered in blood and frowning, but their breaths have slowed, at least.

five minutes. that's all it takes before the tension is broken with a, “let me drive, dean.” the older winchester lets out an exaggerated airy laugh for all of two seconds before putting on a straight face and telling him no. “you're hurt, you can hardly keep your eyes open, let me drive, either of us.”

sam is right, dean is hurt way more than both of you combined, he fought off most of the vampires on his own while you took the girls and ran, but he was mostly hurt because he hadn't expected it.

your plan was to get the girls and dip then come back in the morning to wipe them out in their sleep, but you had woken one of them up with the loudest noise you've ever made when one of the girls stabbed you in the stomach with some glass she’d found on the floor. 

again, taken by surprise. obviously the girls thought you were one of the vampires. 

“shut up. it's only a ten minute drive to the nearest hospital.”

“we're going to a hospital?” you don't usually hunt with sam and dean, opting to stay in the motels and do some research, maybe figure out a better plan, but you've never seen them go to the hospital for their injuries, they'd always come home to you bleeding out on the floor.

“for you and the girls, yes.”

“what about you and sam?”

“it's fine.” that shut you up, his strict tone, and stare in the rear view mirror made you slide down in your seat.

ten minutes later you’ve reached 'northwest tawara horspital' and sam is helping the girls out of the impala. dean, while a wanted fugitive, does the same with you. 

but you refuse. “i won't go inside if you two aren't.”

“what?” he moves a little too quickly and holds his side as he winces. god, that can't be comfortable. 

“i won't go inside, we're just wasting time,” sam comes back and stands in the drivers side to talk to you, door open. “see? sam's back, let's get home quickly so we can fix you both up, and me.”

“no, you're going in.” sam was the one to insist this time but you just shake your head and stay planted into your seat. through the corner of your eye you can see both men discussing what to do then they get back in the car with a sigh.

on the drive home it’s mostly silent until you feel your eyes flutter closed. just a few seconds of sleep— but dean’s loud shout of your name wakes you up, “don't close your eyes, we need to fix you up first.” you nod and straighten up, “and what you did back there? fuckin’ reckless, don't pull that shit again. when we tell you to do something, you do it. or you don't come on hunts with us.”

“what the hell? i was the one who decided i didn't want to come with hunts on you guys, you can't take away my choice.”

“like hell i can't!” he isn't looking at you through the mirror, instead focusing on the road because you're on a busy one, but you can still feel his eyes burning into yours. it makes you shrink down in your seat. you hate how much his words affect you, and how visible it is too. 

sam has has never yelled at you really, but even if he had it wouldn't have done much damage, he's too soft for that. dean though... he scares you sometimes, not that he'd hurt you or kick you out, just that he'd be disappointed in you, maybe give you the silent treatment. you don't want that, but you also hate being barked orders at.

“you can't, dean.” sam says to his brother, slapping his shoulder once to ground him back, and it seems to have worked. because you’re not a bad hunter— if anything, you have their back most of the time, you aren’t clumsy or unreliable and what happened had been a mistake that any other hunter would have made. this isn’t about hunting. this is about dean being too controlling.

you thought it was over now that you're at the motel but when he parks baby, he looks back at you, “i can, and i fucking will. you can't act like a child and expect us to let you come on the hunts. you listen to whatever the fuck we tell you to do.” your lips part in surprise, thinking of how to respond, but he doesn't even give you the chance and gets out, slamming the door behind him. 

you don't look at sam as you close baby's door and start walking to the motel. sam catches up and tells you to wait and because you don't have it in you to be yelled at anymore, you turn back and face him.

he says your name, low and soft, “that wasn't an order,” 

shut up before i cry “hey,” he hugs you, your head on his chest and you just let it all out. god, you feel so stupid. you can't believe you were so unprepared and you caused them all this damage. if you had just been in defense mode you would've never screamed, you've been through worst and kept quite. and though you know it’s a little irrational, you can’t help but blame yourself for not being quiet.

“hey, he's just worried about you, he means well, you know that.” you let go slightly and he kisses your forehead, telling you to go into their room and that he'll be in yours to get cleaned up. 

+

walking into the room of the man who just basically called you a two year old is nerve-wrecking. you don't want to be screamed at and god knows you don't want to be treated like a child again. every time you think you’re getting through to dean, or that you’re becoming closer, something happens and he reminds you you’re still young, naive, and only with them because your dad had told them to.

your father is— was a hunter, he used to hunt with john sometimes, and when he heard about the apocalypse that's soon to be here and all the angels that seem to stride onto earth, he wanted to tie up loose ends, so he asked the winchesters to keep you with them until further notice.

then he never came back. but all of this is something you’ve dealt with ages ago. years even. but this? dean pushing you away all the time? acting like you’re some burden? that, you can’t get over.

“hey,” you hear his voice and turn around, not even having seen him walking towards the bathroom. “how you holding up?”

it’s a stupid attempt to make amends, but it works. the second he says anything, it works. it always does.

“fine.” you mumble and notice he’s finishing supplies to stitch himself up. ouch. you know the boys prefer to do it themselves than help the other out but you’ve always found they need a gentler hand. 

you walk towards him and hold his hand in place to stop his movements, taking the needle from him. he doesn't complain, just drowns the bottle of whiskey. with one hand, the other holding his shirt up. 

when it’s done you hold my hand out for the bottle and he scoffs, as if wasting his alcohol hurts him more than the wound that just got stitched up. he hands it over reluctantly.

you pull down his shirt and decide it’s better if you take a swig too. “does it hurt?” the questions rolls off easily, no matter how angry you are at him. 

“i'll survive.” he shrugs like it's nothing. like the gash over most of his stomach is nothing.

“not what i asked.” dean half-heartedly glares at you but your expectant expression makes him think there isn’t a way out. and there isn’t.

“it's fine, my arm’s just sore.” you sit next to him on the bed, pushing his sleeve up and he hisses, muttering something under his breath and snatching the bottle from your hand to drown it. 

“dean...” it’s surreal. it knocks all the air out of your lungs. you’ve never seen the mark, the one an angel of the lord imprinted on dean’s shoulder, though sam talked about it a couple of times. you clear your throat before he notices the staring and point to the wound, “i think you need to stitch that one too, hand me another needle.”

he does and you get to work. it’s mostly noiseless but it feels like there's something heavy in the air, a confession. though it’s impossible to tell who’s supposed to make it.

“i'm sorry.” you try to hide the surprise on your face by looking down but he doesn't let you, hooking his fingers under your chin and he makes you look up at him. “i was so worried about you.” he lets go, taking a breath in, “the way i felt when you screamed? damn it, i've never felt so scared before and i've been to hell,” he lets out a dry laugh and you smile a little. god he's so perfect.

“i don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart, never, so when i ask you to listen to me it isn't because i'm treating you like a child, i just wanna keep you safe.” there are more words on the tip of his tongue but he shuts up and it doesn’t nothing to help the growing smile on your face. it's more than you thought you’d ever get out of him.

you pour a more of the alcohol on his stitches and pull the sleeve down. “okay, you officially need a shower now, you're all booze and cologne. i need to clean this place up.”

“it's fine, sammy and i will do it.”

“not happening. go get cleaned up, i'll finish here.” you knew that what you’re doing is painfully obvious, but you hope he lets it go, just this once. 

of course he doesn't, instead pulling your shirt up to reveal the various cuts that don’t need stitches, just some treatment, and the stab wound you fixed in the car when they were both too busy sulking in the tension. you’ve gotten a lot better at handling pain since you’ve started with the winchesters.

“when did you do that?”

“doesn't matter, it's done. get in the shower dean, let me clean up and go to sleep.”

“damn it, just answer me when i ask something. when did you do this?”

“car.” you’re scared, tired and you don't want to fight. but he just apologized, for god’s sake, can’t he give it a rest.

you wait for his harsh blow. words that will knock you off my feet, anything really, but he just sighs, letting the shirt go and stands up. you do the same and he embraces you in a hug that you’re quick to reciprocate. so quick you’d already had your arms around his neck before he got his around your waist.

the whiskey burns your nose but it's nothing compared to how your body burns with you so close. “dean?”

“you're so strong, you know?” he takes a beat, a breath, “but that doesn't mean shit to me, i still wanna keep you safe all the time because god knows i don't deserve you but i'm too selfish to let you go.”

you pull away just to see his face. you need to know he means what he's saying. that you’re talking about the both of you in the way you’re thinking. the desperation to convey how he feels to you, it gives you all the confidence in the world to stand a little taller and finally kiss him.

you kiss dean winchester because for the first time in ages, someone cares, someone wants you safe. someone learned from their mistake and did better, someone is fucking perfect and it's dean. 

one of his hands is rough on your waist, the other on you cheek. his tongue, his cologne, it all makes you melt into him. 

then ten seconds later, way too deep into the kiss he pulls away slowly, shakes his head and groans, “why'd you do that.”

you step away him in panic. you were ready for rejection, sure. a small ‘i don't see you like that’, not this.

“i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—”

“no, no, hey,” he steps closer “i just... i don't wanna do this if it's gonna hurt you. i don't know how good i will be if we go down that road and you deserve something good.”

“you are dean,” he licks his bottom lip and it catches you attention, forcing you to bite on yours, “you're good. you're perfect.”

one thing i will not allow in my household is the winchester brothers being insecure that they're not enough (pov it’s all they do). anyways sooo this is for the jensen-a-thon for @artyandink so excited to have my first entry and there’s another one i’ve been working on for a week (hopefully i’m almost done with it). hope you enjoyed this!

[just-a-creep-babe]

Graveyard Shift - Part 7

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Graveyard Shift Masterlist

Commissioned by anonymous — thank you so much darling, I hope you enjoy! 💓💖💞

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Jack doesn’t say anything

He doesn’t move, doesn’t look down at her with a tilt of his head like he usually does—he doesn’t react in the slightest

(Y/n)’s stunned at the unexpected sight, and even more so by his unusual behaviour

She’s about to say something—although she isn’t exactly sure what she’s about to say, in all honestly—when she notices he hasn’t stopped clutching the side of his chest since she opened the door

She looks down, and there, permeating out of the fabric of his hoody, is a deep, dark crimson stain

And all at once, she realizes what’s happening

As if sensing her understanding, Jack takes a step forward

And then, without any further warning, he collapses

The girl just barely manages to catch him before he falls

The sudden weight of him knocks the breath out of her lungs and she nearly stumbles and topples over

Fuck, he’s heavy

Her legs burn with the strength it takes to keep standing

She needs to safely find a way to set him down—now

Somehow, she manages to help him stagger all the way to the couch, wincing with every weak grunt and hiss of pain that escapes him after every step

Once he’s at the couch, she helps him lie down on his back, keeping his chest up and exposed for her to examine

And, based on first impressions alone, it looks like some kind of stab wound—one that had a decent amount of force behind it, too

Curiosity bubbles at the back of her throat—what happened?

Her gut twists in a knot just thinking about it

What kind of person would have the courage to do this, and to someone of his stature, nonetheless?

And, maybe more importantly, what did he do that could’ve caused someone to lash out like this?

Or, maybe, she thinks, maybe it has something to do with the people he works with

Maybe he’s just always surrounded by danger, and dangerous people alike

She shakes her head, pushing the thought away

Whatever the case, whatever the reason for his injury, she needs to help him

It isn’t even a question to do so

Leaving him on the couch, she grabs a pair of scissors from the kitchen, then makes her way to the bathroom

One of the perks, she supposes, of constantly stealing from the hospital, means that she now has a decent stash of medical supplies

She takes everything she needs; bandages, disinfectants, antibacterial ointments, painkillers, and the necessary materials for sutures

She returns to the living room, turns on all the lights, and immediately gets to work

Kneeling in front of the couch, she first tries to offer Jack some painkillers, but he’s unresponsive

With her brows furrowing in worry, she figures she needs to make it quick—for his sake

She doesn’t know how much blood he’s lost, and while she has no clue just how different his anatomy is compared to a human’s, she figures that she should approach it the same way anyway

Meaning that the first step needs to be getting better access to his wound

Since he isn’t lucid enough to take his shirt off, and doing so could risk further aggravating the wound, she carefully uses the scissors to cut through his hoody

She avoids getting too close to his injury, and once his outer layer of clothes is off, she delicately cuts through his black shirt next

He doesn’t move the whole time, and she’d almost be worried, if it weren’t for the uneven rising and falling of his chest indicating he’s, at the very least, still breathing

She peels his clothes off, then holds her breath at the large, prominent gash around his ribs

The sight almost makes her dizzy

Throughout her many, many grueling years of school, she’d seen plenty of gratuitous injuries on people

Most of them, admittedly, were just pictures or videos, though she'd seen a few in person, too

But something about this being on Jack—someone who seems so untouchable, so strong and lethal and utterly deadly—it somehow makes it all the more gruesome

Not to mention, she hasn’t yet patched anyone up in such a critical condition—much less on her own, of all things

Relax, (y/n), relax, she takes a few deep breaths to steady herself, don’t panic, you know how to handle this

It’s practically impossible to tell if there’s damage to a major organ, and with no tools or equipment to check, she realizes, with a sinking feeling in her gut, that she’ll just have to carry on regardless

He’s stronger than a human, she reminds herself, he’ll be ok

He’s clearly lost a lot of blood, but it looks like somewhere along the line, he managed to slow the bleeding—though it wasn’t entirely effective

She gently pats the area with disinfectant

How long ago, she wonders as she does so, did he get injured?

How long did it take him to reach her?

She almost expects him to react to the sting of alcohol on his open gash, but the only indicator that he feels anything at all is the faint shift in his breathing

With surprisingly steady hands, she gets to work on his stitches

As much as she wants to make it quick and painless—because God knows it must feel like hell without numbing agents—she also doesn’t want to rush it and do a sloppy job

She doesn’t know how long it takes to stitch him up, but by the time she’s finished, the edges of her vision are blurring from the concentration

She moves back, blinks a few times, and takes a look at her work

Considering it’s her first time doing this kind of thing in such shabby conditions—it’s not all that bad

Some parts are patchy at best—clearly the work of an amateur—but she knows it’s good enough to get the job done

With one final sigh of relief, she coats the stitches in antibacterial ointment, dresses it with a bandage, and then finally lets herself deflate from the stress

For a while, after he’s all patched up, she doesn’t leave

She stays by his side with her hands still soaked in his blood as she watches over him

A mix of emotions muddled by a slew of questions come and go like the waves of the tide

She’s tired, worried, and confused, and all of it somehow leaves her feeling numb

Eventually, she realizes it won’t do her any good to stay up all night

So, with a final breath of resolution, she stands

She passes by next to him, intending to grab him a glass of water before returning to bed, when he suddenly stops her in her tracks

She yelps, not expecting his abrupt grip to lock around her wrist and force her to stop

“F-food—I need—I need food”

It takes a second for the fog of her sleep-deprived brain to register his words

“You—what?”

“(Y/n)—“ he grunts her name out, and the sound is low and gravelly like the snarl of a starved animal

Pins and needles prickle at her skin and coax the fine hairs of her arms to rise alongside goosebumps

Something isn’t right

Her instincts scream at her to get away from him

And, somehow, she gets the feeling that something bad might happen if she doesn’t give him what he wants

“I—I have some leftover pasta, if you want—“

He shakes his head, interrupting her

“Meat. I need meat”

Her heart rate picks up a pace

She suddenly feels trapped

“I-I don’t have anything with meat prepared,” she explains, trying to keep her voice calm and level, “I mean, I… I have some unprepared beef. I can make something with it, if you’d like, but it might take a—”

“Don’t—just. Just give it to me. Now. Please”

There’s an unfamiliar kind of desperation in his tone

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, (y/n) nods

His grip on her loosens, allowing her to go to the fridge, pull out a pack of raw beef, and offer it to him

Through her haze of exhaustion, it almost feels like a dream when he yanks his mask up his mouth, tears through the thin plastic, and scoops out a handful of meat and eats it raw

He barely even bothers chewing

He just devours it, handful after handful

He eats like he’s famished—like if he waited any longer to eat, the hunger would’ve consumed him

The red juices drip past his lips and dribble down his chin, leaving a trail of blood down his throat and onto his chest with every bite

He’s ravenous

And though she doesn’t want to openly gawk at him, it’s like she just can’t pull her eyes away

When he’s nearly done tearing through the whole package, it’s like it suddenly all becomes too much for her to watch

She leaves

She returns to her bedroom, closes the door behind her, and wraps herself up in her sheets

As if the warmth of her bed could shield her from what's happening in her own living room

She must’ve fallen asleep after that, because the next thing she knows, bright sunlight is streaming through her curtains

With a yawn, she lazily rolls over in bed, and the memory of last night’s events slowly comes back to her

It almost feels like a dream, but she knows it wasn’t

And with a clear, well-rested mind, it’s easier to process what happened

He ate raw meat, she remembers

He didn’t want to eat anything but meat—he insisted on it

She sits with the thought for a second, then eventually accepts it

He eats raw meat, she thinks again, mulling the idea over in her mind, as if trying to decide how she feels about it, how she feels about him

She realizes she witnessed a part of him he wanted to keep secret; a part of him he didn’t want to admit existed

That, combined with everything she knows about him so far, brings her to the plausible theory that he’s some kind of carnivore

She doesn’t dwell on the thought any further than that, out of fear of discovering some kind of truth she’d rather not know

Just because he’s a carnivore, it doesn’t mean he’ll hurt her, she thinks

Really, it doesn’t change much of anything at all, she convinces herself

Pushing down her weariness, she thinks about his injury instead, to keep her mind occupied on something else

It’s unlikely he’s feeling much better in a mere few hours, and he’s probably still passed out

Still, his bandages might need changing, and she should check up on him periodically, at the very least

With a stretch, she sits upright, takes a second to bask in the morning sun, then gets out of bed

She honestly didn’t expect him to be awake when she makes her way to the living room

Which is why it comes as such a surprise when she sees him sitting upright with his gaze turned towards the window, like he’s lost in contemplation

When he hears her coming, he turns, and his abysmal eyes lock with her

She pushes away the memory of blood dripping down his face

And instead, she tries to act natural

“How are you feeling?” she asks gently

“I’m… better,” he hesitates, “thank you”

She nods

Last night’s questions flood back to her, and she debates whether or not now’s a good time to bring them up

But she instead opts to prioritize his health beforehand

“Can I take a look at your bandages?”

“Go ahead,” he nods, “Though I’ve already looked them over—you did a decent job”

She snorts

“I was a bit… unprepared,” she explains as she approaches him

He’s shirtless

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering she’s the one who snipped his clothes off, but, for some reason, it’s like she was too focused last night to realize it—and only now is it fully sinking in

He’s… attractive

He’s very, very attractive

His body’s perfectly lean and muscular, with just the right angles at all the right places

She’d seen the outline of his figure before, like when he’d come in soaking from the rain, but it doesn’t hold a candle to seeing his bare skin exposed like this

He’s sculpted like a statue of worship

She tries not to gawk, and instead forces all of her attention on his bandage

She wonders what he’s thinking as he watches her

There’s something strangely… intimate about it all

They’re so close to one another, just a mere inches apart as she gently examines his injury with feather-light touches

Silence fills the sparse distance between them

And as the heat of his skin radiates against her, she just wants to lean into it, lean into him

Is she just imagining it, or is he leaning in too?

Can he feel the warmth of her skin?

Can he hear her heartbeat?

Does he know what she’s thinking?

She closes her eyes, breathing in, and the scent of his skin fills her lungs

She doesn’t know if she merely imagines the ever brief, ever fleeting feeling of a cool pressure against her lips

But the contact suddenly reminds her of red-stained teeth, and with a start, she quickly jerks away

He seems just as startled as she does by her reaction

“You… last night,” she clears her throat, then stops

He tilts his head questioningly, and the brief gesture is enough to coax her into finishing her thought

“Your diet… you don’t eat regular food… do you?”

She doesn’t know why that, of all things, is the first question that comes out

But, at this point, she needs to know

He turns away, stiffly, almost like he knows what she’s referring to, but he doesn’t want to admit it

“I don’t,” he admits, his voice just barely above a whisper

“Then what… what do you eat?”

He shakes his head

“Don’t. Don’t ask me that”

Nausea fills (y/n)’s stomach

“That’s not fair,” she pushes, “I helped you out. I did something for you—you owe me an answer”

“Not that,” he reiterates, shaking his head, “I’ll answer something else—anything else. Just not that”

She wants to know

More than ever now, she needs to know

But maybe, she figures, maybe it is better to stay blissfully ignorance, just for now

So, even despite the curiosity overwhelming her thoughts, she takes a deep breath to try to find another question

“Ok,” she says, “Ok. In that case, tell me something about yourself. Anything”

A tense moment of silence follows as Jack considers his answer

It drags on to the point where (y/n) starts to wonder if he’s avoiding the question, when, finally, he speaks

“I wasn’t always like this,” he says, and there’s a hint of longing in his voice as he continues, “A long, long time ago, I was just like you”

The woman furrows her brows

“What do you mean?”

He looks at her, and somehow, his gaze is more piercing than ever

“I was a med student, just like you,” he explains, “Something… something bad happened…“

He pauses, as though reliving the memory is unearthing years of buried feelings and mixed emotions

“I… got caught up in the wrong crowd. Met some bad kids who did some bad things. And then… in one night, everything just… kind of changed—forever”

His words hang in the air

(Y/n) turns his answer over in her head, trying to connect some semblance of a story that’s left all too vague to understand

But before she can discern any more to it, he turns to her

“Is that answer enough for you?”

She bites her lip

No

No, it’s not enough

But instead of speaking her mind, she simply nods

And, just like that, the conversation is over as quickly as it began

Over the next hour, Jack recovers unnaturally fast

(Y/n) only has time to eat and shower, and by the time she finishes her morning routine, he’s gone without a trace

Even though he was only there overnight, his absence leaves a strange kind of emptiness in her living room

She wonders if she overstepped any boundaries with her questions

But then she thinks, fuck it, it’s not fair of him to always withhold information from her like that

If she’s going to keep helping him out, if she’s going to trust him, she needs to know more

And so it isn’t long before she finds herself in front of her laptop, staring at the empty search bar with questions burning in her mind

She has to start somewhere, she thinks

And if he won’t give her the answers she needs, she’ll just have to find them on her own

Straightening herself out, she finally types into the search bar: MD student disappearances

[themultifandomgal]

Jay Halstead- All My Fault

Trigger warnings- hospital, passing out, blood clot on the brain, near death

4 hours, just 4 hours left of my 12 hour shift left. I can do this.

For the last few days I’ve felt like I’m catching the flu but when I woke up this morning I felt so much worse and it’s only getting worse as the day goes by. If this was the start of my shift I would have gone home, but I’m so close to being done and then I have 4 days off to recover. So I’m going to power through the last hours.

“Feeling any better?” I hear my husbands voice. I look up at squint at the brightness off the lights, but I notice Jay looking down at me

“No”

“Why don’t you head home? We’re just doing paperwork” I glare at my partner, Adam

“Don’t jinx it” I groan making Jay chuckle

“In all serious babe I’ll take you home”

“No I’ll be fine” I give Jay a weak smile then return back to my paper work

“At least take some painkillers”

“Fine” I slowly stand up, but Jay places his hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down in my seat

“I’ll get them. You stay put” I give Jay a thankful smile. I look at my computer, but have to blink a few times as my vision blurs, probably due to this migraine that I’m having.

“How long has this migraine been bothering you?” Erin asks concerned

“Have had it a couple days now, just today it seems to be worse”

“Here” Jay comes back with some painkillers, a water bottle and a cereal bar “try and drink all of that and eat this. Might help. If your still not well tomorrow I’ll call Will to come over” I roll my eyes at Jay, but instantly regret it as the pain behind my eyes feels like I’m being stabbed. I take the pills and drink half the bottle then open up the cereal bar.

Finally my shift ends, Jay has another couple of hours, so Adam drops me off home

“You sure your going to be alright?”

“Yeah. I’m just going to have a bath try and eat some toast then head off to bed”

“Ok, but if you get worse please ring me and I’ll come over until Jay gets home”

“Thanks. See you” I wave goodbye and close the passenger side door, get my keys out of my bag and unlock my door. I give Adam one last wave and close the door behind me. Sighing I drop my bag on the floor, take my shoes off and head upstairs into the bathroom. Turning the tap on the blurry vision returns and I stumble backwards feeling dizzy. The last thing I remember is the way my head feels like it’s going to explode.

Jays POV

I return home expecting to see YN in bed asleep, or at least trying to. Heading upstairs I notice the bathroom light on and can hear the water running in the bathroom

“I’m home” I call out but don’t get a response. That’s when I notice the floor is wet. Panicking I open up the door and see my wife on the floor unconscious “YN? YN baby can you hear me?” Not getting a response I immediately take my phone out of my pocket and dial 911

“911 what’s your emergency”

“I need an ambulance at ‘address’ my wife is unconscious”

“How long has she been unconscious for sir?”

“I- I don’t know. I just got home. She’s been home for 3 hours on her own”

“Ok can you check her breathing for me?” I lean down and see if she’s breathing, thankfully yes

“Yes” I breath out

“Ok I have sent an ambulance to you, they should be with you in 5 minutes, keep checking her pulse and breathing until paramedics arrive”

5 minutes go by and they feel like the longest 5 minutes ever. Brett and Dawson arrive, I feel slightly relieved that the paramedics on shift right now are these two as I trust them the most with my wife

“Jay we’ve got her” Gabby says after I lift her onto the stretcher

“Can I ride with you?”

“Sure”

“What the hell happened?” Boden, YNs dad shouts walking over to me sat in the waiting room

“I don’t know. I just came home and.. fuck she looked…” I rub my hand over my tear stained face

“Does will know?”

“Yeah. He’s gone to see if he can find out what’s going on. Fuck I should have brought her here earlier, she wasn’t feeling good when she was at work”

“Jay, Wallace” I look up and see Will walking over to us nervously “I’ve spoken Abrams, she’s in surgery right now”

“What? Why? What’s wrong with my daughter?”

“YN had a blood clot on the brain. Has she hit her head recently?” both will and Wallace look at me. I think back to the other day, before her headache started

“Fuck this is all my fault. She hit her head on a job, she told me she was fine and I looked at her head, there was no bump so I didn’t….. fuck I should have forced her to….” I choke on my own words. This is all my fault.

[cheynovak]

Echoes and Shadows - Part 2  

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N           

Warnings:  Fights, murder, cursing, flash backs, ... 

Side note: English isn’t my first language    

Words:  3000

 

*Does not follow the boys storyline * 

--    

In the 1950, Soldier Boy had to train a train a young girl supe named Y/N, she had a "nice girl next door" persona. Soldier Boy hated it at first, until they started to work together, he seemed to start to like this kid.  

Years passed and Y/N didn’t seem to age a lot either. To her it seemed that Ben started to respect her. The two of them worked together just fine until his team Payback was assembled.  

His relationship with Crimson made her feel alone, and her bond with Noir made him jealous. It goes without saying her and Crimson Countess where never best friends.  

-- 

Back home in America, The Boys regrouped in their makeshift headquarters, tending to their wounds and planning their next move. Y/N felt a persistent knot in her chest, a mixture of unease and unresolved feelings.  

She hated the idea of leaving Ben alone in Russia. Butcher noticed her emotions. ”Relax love, he is the Russians problem now.” She couldn’t help but to look angry. “Exactly, he has been locked up for decennia! And I left him there!”  

Hughie seemed to be the only one who understood her reaction. ”I’m sure he’ll be ok.” She pinched her nose. “You don’t get it, I blamed myself for what happened to him. I hated myself for not being able to safe him.”  

“And now, now he is alive and probably confused... that makes him dangerous Hughie.” With a sigh she walked to the door. “Oi, where are you going?” Butcher asked. “You take care of Kimiko. I need to know what happened in Nicaragua.”  

“But you were there, weren’t you?” Hughie asked. Y/N felt the same wash over her. “I don’t remember anything, only that I woke up in the hospital and that someone told me Ben was gone.”  

Her hand on the doorknob, “Where are you going?” Hughie’s voice sounded scarred. “To visit an old friend.” And with that she closed the door behind her.  

She decided to seek out Crimson Countess, hoping to find some answers or at least a sense of closure. As Y/N arrived at the venue where Crimson Countess was performing, she couldn't help but notice the garish posters and promotional material.  

The sight triggered a vivid flashback, pulling her back to 1976.  

-- 

It was a glamorous night, the premiere of a new movie featuring Payback. Y/N and Crimson Countess stood in the ladies' room, adjusting their outfits and touching up their makeup.  

The room was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, but an underlying tension hung between them. Crimson Countess, in her dazzling red dress, turned to Y/N with a smug smile. "You know," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "Ben and I are fucking.” 

“Congrats... You and many, many other women.” Y/N said in an uninterested tone while she touched up her lipstick. “He'll be mine, you’ll see, you’re just jealous that after all these years you still haven’t found the way to his heart."  

Y/N laughed, though the sound was hollow and forced. "Good luck with that. Ben doesn't do relationships." Crimson's eyes sparkled with a malicious gleam. "Oh, you think you're so special to him, don't you? Always so close to him, like a little lapdog. But face it, Y/N, he’ll never see you that way. He needs someone hot, someone who can match him in his needs."  

Y/N felt a pang of jealousy and anger, but she kept her composure. "Whatever you say. If you think you can handle him, be my guest. Just where do you think he spends most of his free time."  

Crimson stepped closer, her tone turning more venomous. "Don't act so high and mighty. I know you two don’t fuck, he told me he spends his time with you because you’re needy for his approval, crying about your little weak feelings. You’re just his little annoying sister he can’t get rid of."  

Y/N met her gaze, refusing to back down. "I know what kind of man Ben is. If you want to play your games, go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart." The confrontation left Y/N feeling unsettled, the seeds of doubt and jealousy taking root.  

She tried to shake it off, but the encounter lingered in her mind, gnawing at her unable to look at Ben that night, afraid she was right.  

-- 

The flashback faded, and Y/N found herself standing outside Crimson Countess's trailer. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter ahead. As she knocked on the door and it opened, Crimson Countess turned to face her, a knowing smile playing on her lips.  

"Well, well, look who it is," she purred. Y/N stepped inside, her resolve firm. "We need to talk, "Crimson Countess raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "About what? The good old times?"  

Y/N clenched her fists, forcing herself to remain calm. "About Ben." Crimson Countess's smile widened, her expression triumphant. "Ah, Ben... Still can't get him out of your head, can you?"  

Y/N ignored the bait, her voice steady. "I want answers. No games, no manipulation. Just the truth." Crimson Countess leaned back, her smile never wavering. "Alright, Y/N. Let's talk. But remember, the truth isn’t always what you want to hear."  

She took a deep breath, pushing aside the painful memories and the jealousy that still lingered from years past. "I need to know what happened that day in Nicaragua," Y/N said, her voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of urgency.  

"No games, Crimson. Just tell me the truth." Crimson Countess leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You want me to talk about Ben? Fine" 

She began recounting the intimate details of her with Ben, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "He took me like no one else ever has. It was wild, passionate. He made me feel things I never thought possible. It’s a shame you never got to experience that.”  

Y/N rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "You know that's not what I mean." Crimson's expression shifted, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. "You still think you’re so above it all, don’t you? If you really want to know, he was killed by a weapon from the Russians. Some experimental thing they cooked up. It hit him, and that was it. He’s gone." 

Y/N's anger flared, her fists clenching at her sides. "You expect me to believe that? You’re hiding something. I can see it in your eyes." Crimson Countess stood up, her eyes blazing with defiance.  

"Believe whatever you want, Y/N. But the fact remains, he’s dead. And nothing you do or say will change that." Y/N stepped closer, her voice low and intense, her eyes burning with fury. "You're full of bullshit, Crimson. He's alive, you know it... and I know." Crimson Countess's smug expression faltered, shock registering in her eyes.  

"What? That's impossible." Y/N pressed on, her anger giving her strength. "Tell me the truth, Crimson. What really happened?" Crimson hesitated, then her shoulders slumped in resignation.  

"It was Noir and Vought’s idea. They made the plan to get rid of him. They saw him as a liability, someone who couldn't be controlled. And Payback... we were happy to help." The revelation hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, but her anger only intensified.  

"You betrayed him. You all did." Crimson's eyes flashed with defiance. "He was a Tiran, an asshole! For all of us, only you... his little sweetheart you could never do anything wrong!" The tension reached a boiling point. Y/N couldn't hold back any longer.  

"You used him for your fame, and to hurt me. You never cared about him." Crimson's smile was bitter. "Do you finally get it? It was always about me, about climbing higher. And you? You were just collateral damage."  

Without warning, Crimson lashed out, her hands aimed at Y/N. Instinctively, Y/N blocked the attack and redirected the blow. Crimson stumbled backward, hitting her head hard against the edge of a table. She crumpled to the floor, motionless.  

Y/N's heart raced, the room spinning around her. "Crimson?" she whispered, fear creeping into her voice. She knelt beside Crimson, shaking her burned body gently. "Come on, wake up." But there was no response. Crimson Countess wasn't breathing.  

Panic surged through Y/N. She hadn't meant for this to happen. It was supposed to be a confrontation, a chance to get answers, not... this. She checked for a pulse, her hands trembling. Nothing. The realization hit her like a freight train, Crimson was dead it was her fault. Y/N's mind raced, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.  

"I... I didn't mean to," she whispered to herself, trying to process the gravity of what had just happened. In a state of sheer panic, Y/N realized the gravity of her situation. The room seemed to close in around her, her mind racing with the implications of what had just transpired.  

She knew she had to act quickly to cover her tracks. Her powers surged within her, fuelled by the adrenaline and fear coursing through her veins. She focused on the cameras outside the trailer, her hands trembling as she summoned her energy. With a burst of concentrated force, she sent a pulse of energy toward the cameras, shattering them into pieces.  

Sparks flew, and the security system went dark. Breathing heavily, Y/N turned her attention to the trailer itself. She knew she had to destroy it, to erase any trace of what had happened inside. The fire spread quickly, fuelled by the panic and desperation in Y/N's heart.  

She watched as the flames devoured the room, the heat intense against her skin. She knew she had to leave before the fire attracted attention, before anyone could see her. As she disappeared into the darkness, Y/N's mind raced with the knowledge of what she had just done.  

Once back home, Y/N found herself spiralling into a vortex of memories, each one a painful reminder of the tangled relationships and betrayals that had defined her past. She remembered Noir, a friend, a great friend, who had been there for her when she needed someone the most.  

Despite Ben's hatred towards him, Noir had always been a steadfast companion for her. In her mind's eye, she drifted back to the training grounds of Payback, a moment that had stayed with her through the years.  

-- 

It was a hot afternoon, the sun beating down on the training field where the members of Payback were honing their skills. Y/N and Noir were sparring, their movements fluid and precise, each strike met with a well-timed block.  

There was an unspoken camaraderie between them, a mutual respect that had grown over time. "You're getting faster," Noir said, his voice muffled by his mask but tinged with a hint of admiration.  

Y/N smiled, adjusting her stance. "And you're as unpredictable as ever." Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The doors to the training facility burst open, and Ben stormed in, his expression a mask of rage. He marched straight towards Noir, his fists clenched at his sides. 

"You think you can go behind my back?" Ben roared, his voice echoing through the space. "Talking to Edgar about a solo movie? Who do you think you are?" Noir didn't have a chance to respond before Ben's fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. 

The air was thick with tension as Ben continued his assault, his punches landing with brutal force. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched, her mind racing. She couldn't stand by and let this happen.  

Summoning her courage, she stepped forward, grabbing Ben's arm as he raised it to deliver another blow. "Stop it, Ben!" she shouted, her voice firm and commanding. "That's enough!" Ben turned to her, his eyes blazing with fury.  

"Stay out of this, Y/N. He needs to learn his place." Y/N held her ground, her grip on his arm tightening. "He's part of this team, just like the rest of us. You don't get to treat him like this." For a moment, it looked like Ben might lash out at her too, but something in her eyes made him hesitate.  

He pulled his arm free, his breath ragged and angry. "This isn't over," he snarled, glaring down at Noir before storming out of the room. Y/N knelt beside Noir, her concern evident. "Are you okay?" Noir nodded, wincing as he touched his bruised face.  

She helped him to his feet, their bond strengthened by the encounter. They had always looked out for each other, and that day was no different.  

-- 

The flashback faded, leaving Y/N with a heavy heart. She missed Noir, but now, knowing he was behind it all. She needed to confront Noir, to understand his role in the plan to get rid of Ben, and to find out if their friendship had been real or just another deception.  

The next day, Y/N walked into Vought Tower with a determined stride, her mind set on finding Noir. The memories of the previous night and the confrontation with Crimson Countess weighed heavily on her, but she knew she had to push forward. She needed answers, and Noir was the key.  

As she navigated the sleek, modern halls of Vought, her presence seemed to draw curious glances from employees and staff. She ignored them, focusing on her goal. However, just as she reached the elevators, she was intercepted by Homelander.  

"Y/N, what a surprise," Homelander said, his voice dripping with false charm. He flashed his perfect, unnerving smile. "Big fan of your work. Can I help you with something?" Y/N forced a smile, keeping her expression neutral. "Just here to see an old friend. Is Noir around?" 

Homelander's smile didn't waver, but his eyes seemed to pierce right through her. "Noir? Funny you should mention him. Why don't we have a little chat first?" Before she could protest, he guided her into a nearby conference room, closing the door behind them.  

The room was stark and clinical, a sharp contrast to the tension that filled the space. "So, Y/N," Homelander began, leaning casually against the table, "I know about the little incident with Crimson Countess. Quite a mess you left behind. Care to explain why you killed her?" 

Y/N's heart raced, but she kept her composure. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen Crimson Countess in years." Homelander's smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze. "Don't play dumb with me. We both know that's not true. And now you're here, looking for Noir. Another old team member. What are you really up to?"  

Y/N met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I have no idea what you're insinuating, Homelander. I'm just trying to reconnect with an old friend." For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.  

Then, to her surprise, Homelander's expression softened into a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Alright, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," he said, stepping aside. "But remember, I'm always watching." Y/N nodded, her heart pounding as she left the room. Homelander's presence was like a dark cloud, but she couldn't let it deter her.  

As Y/N walked down the corridor, her thoughts still lingering on the tense encounter with Homelander, she passed a break room where several Vought employees were gathered around a television. Their faces were etched with shock and fear as they watched the news broadcast.  

"... downtown Manhattan is in chaos after a massive explosion earlier today," the news anchor was saying, the footage behind him showing a scene of devastation, buildings reduced to rubble, fires raging, and people fleeing in terror.  

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of the blast on the screen. The signature of the explosion, the intensity of the radiation, it was unmistakable. She knew it all too well. "Ben..." she whispered.  

He had made it to America. The realization hit her like a tidal wave. The man she had once known, trained with, and cared for was now a living weapon unleashed upon the city. Her mind raced with questions and fears. What was he doing here? What was his plan? And most importantly, how could she stop him before more lives were lost?  

Y/N raced to the crime scene in downtown Manhattan, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination. The devastation was even more harrowing in person, the charred remains of buildings, the acrid smell of smoke, and the sounds of sirens and frantic voices.  

Emergency responders were everywhere, trying to manage the chaos. As she pushed through the throngs of people, she spotted Butcher, Hughie, and MM among the crowd, their expressions grim as they surveyed the destruction.  

She made her way towards them, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. Butcher noticed her first, his eyes narrowing as she approached. "What the bloody hell are you doin' here?" Y/N didn't waste any time on pleasantries.  

She locked eyes with him, her voice edged with urgency and defiance. "You still think he's the Russians' problem?" Butcher's jaw tightened, and for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Butcher looked from MM to Y/N, his eyes piercing and questioning.  

"You think you can stop him?" he asked, his tone sceptical but hopeful. Y/N hesitated, the weight of the task pressing down on her. She knew Ben was more powerful than her, his strength and abilities far surpassing her own. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.  

"Ben has always been stronger than me, but I’ll try." Butcher's gaze softened slightly, a rare moment of understanding. "We'll back you up, love. Just tell us what you need." Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her resolve. "We need to find out where he's likely to go next. Butcher and MM's eyes meet...  

"The legend" 

------

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[ohbo-ohno]

well now i can't stop thinking about reader in a depressive episode bc she's trapped in the apartment refusing to leave the bed or check her phone for texts and the only thing ghost and soap can do is helplessly watch through the cameras..or managing to accidentally hurt herself somehow in an escape attempt and ghost sends a text berating her for it but soap can see he's actually very afraid.. angst potential here off the charts ngl

ugh i looooove good angst. my favorite romance trope is second-chance because there's very little i love more than a man fucking up and begging for forgiveness.

putting a read more here bc im gonna talk about depression and thats a pretty big cw <3

it would be very difficult to not get depressed when they're both gone for days at a time. you'd go from being in their presence 24/7, constant attention, to just nothing for days on end. especially with the presence of the collar and chain at your throat? it would all throw you into a not-quite-person headspace, and that's not great when you're all alone :(

early on you don't like to interact with them. johnny spams you with texts - funny memes, stupid things people have said, things he wants to do when he's back with you - and you ignore him out of spite (except he can see you lunge for the phone every time it buzzes, and from certain camera angels he can see the way you smile when he tells you about something embarrassing simon did). simon doesn't text much at all, that's not a specific to you thing though he's just like that, so he's almost exclusively texting you little scolding messages. smirks when he sees you scowl and pout through the camera :(

they'd be really worried once you stop getting out of bed. even when you're scared of them, there's still a fire there yk? they don't want you to change as a person, they just want to keep you. when you start to give up a little, it would send them into a bit of a tailspin.

johnny worries first (he hadn't noticed first, but he worries first). he sends you a text and you don't move to look at it, which he's never seen happen unless you're asleep or two far away from the phone to hear it. so he spams you, does that thing where he sends one letter at a time so your phone is just making an endless buzzing noise. his heart lodges in his throat when you just roll onto your other side, not even looking at it or shoving it onto the floor.

simon has to stay calm, because johnny's freaking out. he's very worried about you too, but he can't be showing that with the way that johnny's hands shake as he shoves the camera app into his face.

they can't just leave, they've got a contract they've signed promising to complete x y and z, or else they'd be on their way back when you only leave the bed once in 24 hours and it's to use the bathroom. they're snippy and pushy, rude to everyone and each other because they can't help you.

the next morning you get out of bed. ghost shakes soap awake, a rare desperation in his movements as he forces him to look at your shuffling form on the little phones screen.

you're very slow moving, stiff from your day in bed and slow from exhaustion and hunger. you trip over the chain, go sprawling to the ground with a cry that echoes like a gunshot out of simon's phone speakers. you curl up, hands cradling the knee your weight fell on, and you don't get back up.

simon and johnny are gone, immediately. they break contract and just about every traffic law ever written to get back to you, tearing up the stairs at a full sprint like there's a fire on their heels.

you're still on the floor when they get there, haven't moved an inch from where you first fell (which they know, at least one of them has had his eyes on the cameras since you hit the floor). johnny wants to take you to a hospital, but simon manages to talk him down a bit when they see that your knee is only red and a little scraped.

the real problem is in your head. you don't bother reacting much when they burst in, just sort of lay limp and let them do what they want. like a doll.

johnny's cupping your face, squeezing a little too tight and making eye contact with you. he looks frantic. "lovie? c'mon, talk to me. what's wrong, huh?"

simon's stroking over your body with hands that shake, just enough for you to notice. he's leaned against the back of the couch, you between his legs and your back against his chest, legs caged by his.

"give her a second, johnny," simon rumbles, petting up and down your arms in a soothing and consistent movement. "she's alright. just gotta..." he cuts himself off for a moment, swallowing down the lingering panic in his throat. "just need a little love, huh sweetheart? little love and attention, and you'll be okay."

they slowly coax your mind back to your body, steady movements that don't jar or (for once) don't push any of your boundaries. they're warm, murmuring soft praises and kind words.

you cry when you fully come back to yourself, overcome with how comforted you truly feel. you shouldn't. they've kidnapped you, they keep you chained to the fucking floor like a dog when they leave you.

but they're so warm, and so soft. johnny's mumbling into your neck all the things he likes about you (pretty face, soft skin, perfect size, sweetest eyes, cutest expressions) and simon is breathing heavy and deep in your ear, guiding your breathing with his as it grows heavier and heavier.

that night is the first night you cuddle into them. you need them, even if they've forced it to be that way. you can't change it now.

[haute-pockette]

The Doctor's incarnations have fears associated to what caused their regenerations Two acting childlike and whimsical because he's afraid of growing old again. He's scared of becoming a crotchety old man that will die alone. He surrounds himself with friends just as he much with surrogates, to help him feel like he isn't too old to be running about having adventures. Three having a lot of complex and mixed feelings about the Time Lords. He resents them for what they did to him and his companions, but also very scared of facing that fate again should cross their path once more. Four can't stand spiders. They didn't directly kill him, but damn did they play a big part leading up to his regeneration. They give him the willies and Sarah Jane and Romana always have to take care of invading arachnids while he is perched safely on the center console. Five hating heights might actually be canon, he's shown freaking out on a cliff in Castrovalva and hating every minute of a plane ride in Time Flight. Boy likes to keep his feet firmly where he doesn't risk falling. He'll get vertigo if too close to a ledge. Six being scared of getting sick. While this one is more vague, it was the fever of Spectrox Toxemia that kills, so I could see him being panicky and over compensating when it comes to illnesses. Pulls manflu pity every time: bed rest, tea, soup, hot waterbottle on the forehead, reciting rhetoric about his woes. Poor Peri and Mel has to tend to his drama. I can also see him hating bats but in a "why can't you fuckers make more than a tiny vial of milk, asshole???" kind of way. I think Seven's might also be canon (in the books at least) with the way he mentally locked away his Sixth self in fear of the Valeyard. Though he wasn't really a cause for regeneration, he certainly set the Doctor on the path to it. Eight terrified of medicine and hospitals. Aspirin is already deadly to Time Lords, anesthesia fucked up his regeneration. This boy won't go to a medical professional unless he's dragged in unconscious. He will look at broken leg twisted out of shape and claim he can walk it off. The Warrior/War Doctor scared of failing people the way he did Cass. His spirit for hope and brighter ending to the war broken when he regenerated. He became the one that got his hands dirty because he was too scared to let anyone else die under his care.

Nine scared of war. War Doctor held off his regeneration for years to keep fighting, and Nine clearly does his best to step away from the incarnation he hated being more than anything. Like he said, "Coward, any day." Ten is a bit tricky. He's scared of Daleks, losing companions. He's scared that people around him will be willing to sacrifice themselves for him. Scared of the heart of the Tardis, the very soul of time itself ripping away what/who he loves. After Rose is safe from it he was very careful to never let anyone open it again. Eleven scared to see another Time Lord again. He's heartbroken about being the last of his kind. Romana, Brax, Damon all gone. The Master's plans had gotten so much more violent and destructive and insane than they used to be. The other Time Lords so desperate to escape the Time Locked war that they'd destroy time to do it. He's scared of everything ending if the Time Lords return. I haven't really seen enough of Twelve or past that to give proper interpretations on them, but I'm pretty sure Twelve is determined not to be seen as an old man. It's like he sees this new cycle as starting over so he's trying to act like he's the young, rebellious first incarnation? idk

[rottingpirate]

Hey, may I request some headcanons for tf 141 and los vaqueros where reader is M. I. A (missing in action) and then came back?

Sorry if this is bad and thank you!

Nah, It's great :) Also I hope you don't mind if I do it in two parts

Ghost

One month.

To Ghost time felt like a fever dream. It felt like forever since he lost sight of you during the mission. It felt like forever since you two exchnaged glances and checked up on each other.

He felt stupid for thinking you were okay when you didn't answer your walkie-talkie.

They found your rifle, but no body, which gave him some hope.

You were a strong fighter and you’ve survived worse than just some kidnapping.

At least he hoped it was just some kidnapping.

He gathered a team for a rescue mission but nothing turned up, it was like you just vanished into thin air.

Time went by and still no contact.

M.I.A. does not mean dead, of course, but it's often as good as.

He went back to work, as much as he didn’t want to, accepting that you were dead somewhere.

You were doing horrible on your end.

You were separated from your squad and knocked unconsious.

You woke up in some basement, tied to a chair with people surrounding you.

They people that kidnapped you wanted information, but you didn't break no matter how long they tortured and interrogated you for.

They moved you from one building to another as to not be caught and during the third time when you were being lead by one of the guys who was not exactly paying attention to you and talking with his friend over the comms. You took that as an opportunity and got out of his grasp, killing him in the process.

That didn't end well as you were knocked out in the end by another guy who snuck up on you.

When Simon was told one month later that they might've found where you were he flipped.

You were found and brought back to the base.

Some of your ribs were broken along with your nose, you had bruises all over and they noticed that two of your teeth have been pulled out.

You could withstand any pain but knowing that your team missed you. That Simon missed you is what hurt you the most.

Simon has never run to treatment facility as fast as he did that day, all he knew was that one moment he just stood over your sleeping body.

He was too scared to hold your hand, so he just sat there watching you til you woke up.

After that he was scared to let you stay alone during missions.

Soap

There was no reason to be worried Soap told himself over and over

You didn't answer your comms, yes, you disppeared during a mission, yes, and no one had heard of you in the last few days, also yes. But that in and of itself didn’t mean anything.

Still, he couldn’t help but worry.

It wouldn’t be the first time soldiers vanished without a trace, especially among those who were fighting, and he suspected some might never be found, not even after the end of the mission.

It's been two weeks and you were considered M.I.A.

It didn't make it better that it was Christmas eve and you were fucking M.I.A.

You were supposed to be with him, curled up in a blanket, watching sappy movies and throwing pop corn at each other.

Instead he was alone, sitting in one of your hoodies and hugging your pillow that still smelled of your shower gel.

He cried not being able to handle this shit and soon enough, he fell asleep defeated.

Meanwhile what he didn't know, was a silhouette that hissed while getting out of a car.

You were kidnapped, god nows how you got out. On your own at that.

As you got out, taking down the people that kidnapped you with a rifle and some knives, you passed out due to blood loss.

You were found by some civillian couple who had no idea who you were, but took you to the nearest hospital.

You spend a good week in there until you just couldn't take it anymore. You had to get out of there and tell your team that you were alive. Why didn't you just call them?

You didn't escape, but you kind of escaped before the doctors gave you the permission to leave because you were still very injured.

As you got out of the cab, you thanked the driver one more time and made your way towards the house.

It was dark, no lights or Christmas tree were seen through the windows and you felt guilty, clenching your jaw.

As you walked inside, took your boots off and dropped your bag you quietly made your way over to the kitchen, seeing as there was a light on.

There he was, your Johnny, asleep while hugging one of your pillows.

You took a chair next to him and played with his growing mohawk.

After a few seconds, he slowly opened his eyes, brushing your hand away.

You softly greeted him, smiling at how his eyes suddenly wided as he straighteend his back.

His breathing increased rapidly and he wondered if he was still dreaming.

Before you knew it, you were lying on the cold floor with Johnny hardly hugging you.

You winced in pain as you were still very much injured, but you didn't care as long as he was in your arms.

He did apologize later so it's fine.

You spent the next few days celebrating holidays while huddled up together on the couch. He didn't let go of you no matter what.

[irndad]

how about ❝  i don’t sleep a lot either these days.  we can be insomniacs together.  ❞ or ❝  you don’t have to pretend to be fine,  if you need me to stay i will.  ❞ with whoever you want to write (i have absolutely no guesses as to who this may be (cough cough spencer))

a/n: teeny tiny fic!!! so little. so little content.

prompt list // ask// wc: 530

He actually usually doesn’t like to be touched when he’s injured. It’s all overwhelming, the pain of it, how he can never take the medication anymore. The added stimuli of touch- it can all be a little overwhelming. 

Still, she doesn’t feel that way.

He’s laying on the couch in the office, and it’s embarrassing. She looks so lovely, leaning over him. She’s a vision, as beautiful as he’s ever seen her, even with that scratch above her brow. 

She’s wiping a gash on his forehead, and he can’t stop looking at her. She bites at her lower lip, her brow fixed into an adorably focused expression.

“Thank you,�� he says, “For doing this.”

He lives for that smile, the one she offers him. It’s all kindness, completely unguarded and open. It’s the kind of affection Spencer would like to know more, love to drown in. He smiles back at her. 

“No problem, Spence.” Her voice is warm and sweet as honey, and he is keenly aware of the fact that she’s touching him. There’s not really a lot of times that he gets to. She sometimes falls asleep on his shoulder, on the jet. It’s the most still he’s ever been in his life. 

Everyone else has gone home, and she’s still here, still leaning over him. He’d refused to go to the hospital, and it really was just a couple of scrapes, but she’d insisted on staying. On cleaning him up, just a little. 

He’s been having nightmares.

Of course, he always has them. But lately, they’ve been so bad that closing his eyes seems like a recipe for terror in and of itself. And the fucked up thing of it all, is the only person who’s able to help him isn’t even someone he can call. She’s a friend. 

She doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But she does pause her movements, then mover her delicate finger to brush the side of his cheek. He’s in so much pain he lets himself lean into it, eyes fluttering open and shut at the feeling of it.

“Spence,” she repeats the nickname in a way that’s drenched in tenderness, in a way he wants to hear over, and over again. He wants her to say his name like that forever. 

“You don’t have to pretend to be fine. If you need me to stay I will.” Her voice is kind and doting, and she- she doesn’t know. She has no idea what that would even mean to him. How he wants her to stay. 

“I-“ his voice comes out shaky and unguarded. She is still touching him, he realizes. 

“I know that it’s not the easiest thing for you, to say you need it.”

If it was anyone else, he realizes, he’d probably snap at them. Because he doesn’t like to admit that he needs help. Sometimes, though, help is being held by the woman that makes him feel the closest to clean. To worthy. 

He can’t decide what he’s meant to say here, if there’s something that he’s meant to say.

“I want it,” he settles on. “I’d like that very much, actually. If you stayed with me.”