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shion-yu · 4 months

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Day 13: “You’ve been very sick”

Continuation of day 9: a Rey and Felix drabble for @medwhumpmay. (Except it’s kinda longer than a drabble, lol!)

Felix goes to the largest town in a five hour radius he can find, asks for the best healer they’ve got, and promises to make it worth their time in gold. The townspeople are naturally suspicious of this questionable knight with a mysterious client for them, but money talks and soon Felix is bringing a doctor on the back of his horse to Rey.

“This patient of yours must be quite important,” the doctor prods him. Felix doesn’t answer; doesn’t want to tempt the greed he can hear in the man’s voice. He can already tell he doesn’t like the fellow much, but the town reassured him that he was the best around and had to trust in that. Importantly, he has some weak healing powers so at the least, Rey won’t be entirely reliant on whatever herbal medicine hasn’t been touching his fever.

They arrive at the inn by evening and Felix opens the door to their room to reveal Rey right where he left him - his body still other than heaving, labored breathing and covered in a sickly sweat. His face is pale and gray, a hue made worse by his jet black hair framing it. The doctor’s casual grin disappears and to Felix’s relief, he seems to know what he’s doing as he diagnoses Rey with his hands over Rey’s chest.

After several seconds, Rey shudders and the doctor steps back with a frown. “This boy has his powerful magic, I can tell,” he says. “It’s an illness from disuse. It’s yearning to stretch out, but has nowhere to go. I could absorb the excess, but it will keep him from being able to use his powers for quite some time.”

“Do it,” Felix says immediately. Rey won’t miss it. To Rey, his magic is a curse. It’s a bastardized version of the real thing, the silvery threads of his power having been extracted, twisted and replaced for the worse during their time in captivity. Without the experiments they’d endured, Rey likely never would have expressed much power naturally without intensive training. Aside from that, healing has brought Rey more pain than anything else. Felix knows that first hand.

The doctor nods and replaces his hands on Rey’s chest. “It’s concentrated in his eyes,” he says thoughtfully. “There’s so much pressure. He must get terrible headaches.”

Felix doesn’t answer, but it’s true. Rey suffers from intense pain for days on end where he needs to be in complete darkness - something extra unpleasant for a man afraid of the dark. Felix had assumed it had to do only with the hypnosis and memory loss, but maybe it’s because of the magic after all. Begging to be released, to be used. It’s a terrible double edged sword, Felix thinks bitterly. Rey’s sick if he doesn’t use it, yet using it tears his body to pieces, too. Is there nothing they can do to simply make it go away?

As if reading Felix’s mind, the doctor says, “If he learned to control his magic, it might be better for him. I can feel how untamed it all is inside of him. And something else, something very strange. Magic usually feels warm, but his feels so cold… artificial.”

The doctor is getting too close to the truth, so Felix clears his throat and says gruffly, “Less talking, more working.” The doctor is intimidated enough by Felix’s steely gaze to comply. He works for nearly an hour before he finally steps back, wiping his sweaty palms on his tunic.

“He may be sick for a while yet as his body regains equilibrium, but he should get better now,” the doctor says. Unlike Rey, he’s nearly glowing with health - a positive side effect on his end of absorbing so much power. “You can give him this to ease the fever and pain until it breaks.” Felix takes the offered flask with a nod and exchanges it for a bag of gold coins.

“This should be more than enough for your services and your silence,” Felix says coldly. “I’ve included the cost of a carriage back to your city as well. Tell no one of what has occurred here.”

“Thank you, sir,” the doctor says, his eyes flashing as he peers into the pouch to confirm the payment is legitimate. “You know, I swear I’ve seen him before, although I can’t place it-“

“It’s better if you don’t,” Felix interrupts him. “You are dismissed. Thank you, doctor.” Somehow, the thank you manages to be threatening too. The doctor scurries off, doubtlessly thinking he hit the lottery, and Felix returns to his seat next to Rey’s bed.

Over the next two days, Rey’s fever slowly breaks. He doesn’t quite know what’s happening, but any panic in his blue eyes is quelled each time he sees Felix. The room smells stale with sickness, but Felix is always there no matter what.

Finally, Rey wakes up with a pounding headache and his mouth dry as the desert but finally conscious enough to question what’s happening. He struggles to sit up, alerting Felix who pushes him back down gently. “Easy, prince. You’ve been very sick.”

“What happened?” Rey croaks, confused. He still looks terrible, but just seeing him alert enough to ask brings a hefty rush of relief through Felix’s body.

“Your magic was overflowing,” Felix says simply. “A doctor took care of it. You’ll be fine now.”

It’s rare for them to even acknowledge Rey’s power, an unspoken rule between them that it’s not to be used. It’s too traumatic, and Rey doesn’t even remember the specifics of how he got it or what it was used for in the past. Felix thinks it’s better not to tell him unless he wants to know, but Rey has never asked.

“Have we been here long?”

Felix nods. “Over a week. So we must get moving as soon as possible. Here, drink your medicine.”

“What’s wrong?” Rey asks, eyeing Felix sharply. Felix is relieved to see that sharpness at all after so many days of dull, glazed staring. “You look…”

“I was worried,” Felix says, a deep and rare honesty. “That’s all.”

Rey looked startled and shakes his head, embarrassed. “I always come out in the end, don’t I?” He asks. “There’s nothing to worry about, now.”

Felix lets out a tired laugh. “You’re right. You always do.” For better or for worse.

#medwhump may #shionwrites #oc: Rey #oc: Felix #sickfic #illness whump #fever whump #oc sickfic

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erikiara80 · 11 months

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El, Virginia and Katinka

This is what I do at 1 am...

Katinka is the diminutive form of Katerina. Meaning: pure. Often used for small children.

Yuri is the russian variant of George. Like "George Smith" in the prequel. He says that there are two Katinkas: a woman and the helicopter, "a virgin".

Virginia means pure. According to legend, Virginia was a Roman girl who was killed by her father in order to save her from seduction by a corrupt government official (interesting)

I think young, pure Katinka and adult Katinka are a reference to young Virginia Creel and adult Virginia.

But there's also a big parallel between El and Katinka. Yuri removes the spark plug, so that Katinka can't fly. Brenner tells El that her powers were still there after the massacre, they just needed a spark. So, like Kali says, there is a missing piece. For the helicopter, it's the spark plug, for El it's her memories.

Mike compares her to Superman, and Brenner says that in order to defeat One she will have to fly. But she's not ready, because she still doesn't know the whole truth. In fact, she destabilezes the helicopter, while Yuri and Enzo, when they're finally on the same page ("become whole again") make Katinka fly.

Also, all the memories they show when Brenner says that El needed a spark, are terrible and sad: El crying, or killing people with the head tilt, like Henry does in S4.

What gives her her powers back and makes her even more powerful is not a spark (cruel experiments, fear and isolation) but a bright light. And it's not remembering Henry or her opening the gate. It's the memory of her mother.

A happy memory, different from what she saw in Terry's mind. They didn't let Terry say hello to Jane. Imo, one of the hints that she's not her mother. She is mama to Brenner's papa. They became her parents, yes, (all the paralles with Hopper and Joyce) but after she was swapped at the hospital. El has started to remember tho...

They tell her that thanks to Nina, which means little girl in Spanish (Joyce's last name, Maldonado, is Spanish) she will become even more powerful. But when they say that and when she lifts the water tank, they only focus on her and the doctor who looks like Will.

But if the whole point of Nina is to help El to remember how she defeated Henry, it's strange that they focus on a woman who looks like her brother, who wasn't even in those memories.

Unless the missing piece is the memory of her real family. After the van scene, we get this transition and Brenner saying that he doesn't know what El found in herself that day. Maybe they show it here what she found, for a brief moment. She found him, Will. And Joyce.

(screenshots by @chirpsythismorning )

Another hint might be the parallel between the hand El sees in her memory and Nancy touching the light particles, after she mentions Will and Joyce, and Dustin says that it's a tear in time and space.

Dustin also mentions Mothergate. He says 'This is the answer' when Karen asks the agent if he wants a glass of water. Then they talk about tears in the fabric of time and space, and there's the painting of a lake behind them (the car crash. Yeah, I love that theory ok? lol) I think Mothergate is also about the UD/Mind Flayer spreading into our world, a parallel with IT, who takes the shape of a giant spider and laid eggs in her lair, like the spiders Max sees in Vecna's mind space (other parallels with IT) But yeah, El's mother and water. A lake and a tear in time and space...

Like I said in other posts, I don't think these are coincidences. Like Karen showing up and mentioning water when they talk about Mothergate. She's the one who joked about Nancy being 'swapped at the hospital'. It's not a coincidence that she and Nancy are always in scenes that hint at what might've happened to El in the past. Including the parallels with Barb. Because it's possible that Karen is connected to Henry, so maybe these are hints about both her story and El's.

#el hopper #will byers #jane hopper #twelvegate #willel twins #henry creel #joyce byers #joyce maldonado #karen wheeler #nancy wheeler #dr brenner #st parallels #st theory #st analysis #stranger things

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lordcastaway · 9 months

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Hi, just wanted to say that I love your work, and your style, it's so distinct!

Quick question, could you elaborate on the relationship between Castlereagh and Wellington (relating to your last piece)? I know that they knew each other, but don't really know more than that. Were they close?

(And do you have anything I could read up about them?)

Thanks for your artwork again, it's really beautiful

Hey hi hello! First of all thank you, I'm glad you like it, it really means a lot! Did not expect to see smth like that on tumblr, esp about my history art! So thank you once again🤲♥️

Okkkkk, talking about Castlereagh and Wellington, I will try to give you a summary. They were colleagues and friends, though not as close as some people make them out to be. Their relationship was a very successful (defeating that Napoleon guy and all that) work partnership, "a marriage of minds", as one historian put it. They first met in Ireland as young MPs in the Irish House of Commons but there is no evidence that they were more than simple acquaintances at that stage, at least to my knowledge. Castlereagh basically had Wellington's back throughout the war and preferred him to any other possible commander-in-chief (cue Sir John Moore's appalled face). In the end, Castlereagh's gamble worked out, and, by coincidence, Waterloo was won on his birthday. After the war, once again thanks to Castlereagh, Wellington began a political career, and they served in the same Cabinet until Castlereagh's death. With Castlereagh's decline and death comes the tragic highlight of their private relationship. Basically Wellington saw that Castlereagh was unwell (he even later said he knew it was not the first time Castlereagh had such an "episode") and proposed to stay with him instead of going abroad. Castlereagh refused cause, well... he was not really in his "think straight, listen to logic" era, yet that is a whole other story. So Wellington left without an objection, though he knew his friend was not "in his right mind". He wrote to some people, including Castlereagh's doctor about it, warning them about his condition, but what happened, well, still happened. Wellington later tried to deal with the whole "does castlereagh is gay" thing, swiftly started a close friendship with Castlereagh's girl best friend, Harriet Arbuthnot, promising her to replace him, and reminisced about his death a whole lot later in life. Hope this helps!

As for books, for starter you can pick any biography of either of them to get a general idea of the relationship. Elizabeth Longford has a pretty allegorical summary of the whole friendship and similarities, as well as differences in their characters in her "Wellington, pillar of state" if you are into all the metaphorical "he was like ice, but he was like iron" kinda stuff. If you are into letters and/or diaries and/or reminiscences then Harriet Arbuthnot's diary, Mme de Lieven's letters to Prince Mmeternich, Stanhope's Notes of Conversations with the Duke of Wellington (and everything else of the "I have talked to Wellington, here are the receipts" genre) might interest you. The excerpt I used for my drawing is from Lady Granville's letters and she does not elaborate, so oh well, I guess we'll never know what happened there.

This whole thing turned out rather long, lol, but I hope I could help.

#lord castlereagh #duke of wellington #i got an ask wowwww

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amazinglyegg · 2 years

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it's been a second but now i gotta ask

any wholesome carrington headcanons ? hobbies , habits , etc. ?

(maybe sometime we should chat and discuss the grumpy man 👀 it's nice to have other enthusiasts around lol)

WOO CARRINGTON!! I'm sorry this took a while to get out I have such bad writers block atm but I can't NOT make posts about my blorbo <3

Wholesome Carrington Headcanons

I like to think the Railroad is a pretty tight-knit place and everybody gets along fairly well

Like Deacon says: "We're just one big dysfunctional family... with guns!"

That includes meals together, game nights, domestic sleepy mornings, whatever comes to mind

Game nights are... interesting to say the least

Reminds me of this incorrect quotes post I have accepted as canon (Carrington's Great Jenga Tantrum)

I constantly see Carrington cutting up big hunks of meat at one of the benches in his area so on top of being their doctor he probably also cooks

He tries to make enough food for everyone in HQ and will chase down anyone trying to avoid taking care of themselves and give them a plate

Some agents think it's a waste of time because everyone is on different schedules but Carrington really likes it

He keeps track of any allergies as well as general likes and dislikes and tries to make something for everyone

Deep down he has a soft spot for all the agents in the Railroad

If someone's clearly struggling he'll be quieter and more patient with them

Says he doesn't like working with kids or animals but acually is really good with them

Mentioned this already in another headcanons post but him and Deacon get along well!

Deacon actually trusts him a lot (for Deacon's standards)

Most of the others (Tom, Drummer Boy, Glory) have a habit of spilling information Deacon tells them because they don't understand just how private Deacon really is

Carrington takes patient confidentiality very seriously and understands that Deacon doesn't really let people know anything about him, not even the basics

Carrington probably knows Deacon better than anyone else at this point, and he's the only doctor Deacon can comfortably go to

You can often find Carrington collecting and working through crosswords, word searches, sudoku, or any other word/number games

He likes keeping his brain sharp but reading hurts his eyes, so puzzles are the second best thing

In Switchboard they had a table dedicated to a 1000 piece puzzle

Six pieces were missing. Carrington was upset.

I feel like he's the type of guy to accept and keep ALL gifts given to him, especially from children

Between joining the Railroad and move from Switchboard he's lost basically all his gifts

Synth Shaun drew him a picture while staying in HQ and Carrington framed it and put it up on the wall

He generally acts all tough on the outside but is a real softie on the inside <3

#also i would LOVE TO CHAT!!!#i am Very Horrible At Conversations though so please bear with me #fallout 4 #doctor carrington #railroad #deacon #headcanons

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not-poignant · 2 years

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Hi, Pia

I just read chapter 28 'Strange and Lonely' of UtB and got curious about the omega rights that exist in this world. Would you mind listing some of the rights omegas have in Australia in this universe? And are there countries where they don't have these rights? Or countries where omegas have even *more* rights than where UtB takes place?

And also Gary says that Temsen became 'radicalised' after what he'd seen while studying overseas. Does Gary really think Temsens views are radical or was that just a word he used in the moment?

Thanks!

Hi anon!

Some of this stuff I don't know the full answer to (winging the story), some of it will be revealed in the story, but here's some bits and pieces!

Would you mind listing some of the rights omegas have in Australia in this universe?

I don't know them all because honestly I can't keep every single legal right that humans have in my brain so I don't know how I could do that for omegas, but generally speaking omegas in Australia have:

A right to education (conditional) A right to life (conditional - if no birth certificate is recorded, a right to life can be legally circumvented -> problematic because omegas have their own birth register, and many omegas births still aren't recorded at all) A right to freedom from medical experimentation and unusual acts of cruelty or inhuman acts (this includes conditional freedom from being imprisoned and raped in a fraternity house, but not freedom from being imprisoned and raped in an omega rehabilitation centre) A right to health (conditional) A right to a fair trial (conditional) A right to work (conditional) A right to protection from violence from strangers (conditional)

(I'm putting conditional next to all of these, because many of these rights have loopholes that can often be utilised by alphas and betas, especially in the case of spouses and families, and these are the people normally controlling an omegas life in the first place. For example, if a family causes an omega to be sick, that omega has no right to take their family to court.)

They do not have rights to:

Vote (hugely contested, but as omegas are such a tiny portion of the population and don't get much support, this is slow going. Alphas can of course vote, despite also being a tiny proportion of the population, lmao) Freedom from discrimination based on being omega Protection from violence (inc rape) from family or partners

Australia is considered one of the better places in the world for an omega, about on par with with UK, and ahead of places like the USA. However there are many countries that offer better rights and protections to omegas, but I couldn't tell you what they are, because I don't know! I just know they exist, lol. One of them is Switzerland, based on the fact that Gary and James went to do a conference there on omega psychology and rights.

But! Any of this could change depending on how the story goes. Winging it means the story decides how it progresses, in a way, so if one of these becomes inconvenient to me and I haven't established it in the story, I will ditch it lmao.

Does Gary really think Temsens views are radical or was that just a word he used in the moment?

Temsen's views really are radical. Just because Gary shares many of them, doesn't make them any less so. Hillview is a place that practices pretty radical omega theory and acceptance, and has to kind of hide that it does that because it goes counter to the global culture in general.

There's very few people in the world for example who would agree with Temsen's approach to Efnisien. Temsen asking Efnisien if he wants an alpha in the room with him instead of giving the alpha the choice is unusual and generally not done. Temsen seeking even some consent is not something many doctors do. Temsen embodies a more ethical practice (overall, not always though) towards omegas and in his viewpoints towards omegas. Gary agrees in theory, but he can have a harder time implementing it in practice, because he's still got a lot of internalise issues towards omegas. Everyone at Hillview does, because they live in a society that has taught them to discriminate against omegas, so it's something everyone there is unpacking, including the omegas.

It also makes Hillview challenging, because it tends to turn out more politically aware and educated omegas, and while they're sometimes wanted by their partners who also happen to be activists, it's not generally what omega rehabilitation facilities are meant to do (which is to usually establish the kind of mindbreak where the omega becomes so docile - through repeated rape and forced bonding - that they see complete and total obedience to a partner or family outside of the facility as true freedom).

The world is definitely described / tagged as dystopia for a reason!

#asks and answers #underline the black #fae tales worldbuilding #worldbuilding stuff #dr gary konowalous #ohlo ohlo temsen #temsen is incredibly radical #and if he were too open about some of his viewpoints in some countries #he would be arrested were he not a peak alpha #i would say he's one of very few peak alphas in the world who believes as he does #and he uses his power wisely to intervene in politics #or to mobilise teams to intervene on his behalf in politics #but he has to be very careful which battles he chooses #he can't win them all

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yourlunarspice · 2 years

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Hope your day is going well!!!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

My day is going alright, thanks for asking, Kiya <3!

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

ALL OF THEMMMM Lol, yes, but there are a few I repeatedly go back to. I've made a list of how many times each character has suffered in my stories (not including WIPs). Right now, Bakugou is in the lead with 17, but Shinsou and Kaminari are right behind him with 15 and 13, respectively. After that comes Aizawa (12), Todoroki (9), and Kirishima (9). I love making each of these characters suffer so much, because their personalities and/or backstories make it so easy. It's so easy to twist their lives into something worth crying over.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

This was really difficult to narrow down, but I think I've found one of my favorite pieces of dialogue. It's from my fic Tidal Wave (the second in its series). It's a bit on the longer side, so I stuck it under a Read More. The context is that Aizawa is finally confronting Shinsou about his increasingly-reckless vigilantism as a coping mechanism for Kaminari's illness. I'm proud of it because there's so much emotion in both of their voices, but there's also exposition, not only for the situation, but also how both Aizawa and Shinsou feel about everything. Everything is paced out realistically and you can feel their desperation, Aizawa's to save Shinsou, and Shinsou's to do something to save Kaminari.

“What the fuck have you been thinking?!”

Hitoshi couldn’t help flinching. He knew that Aizawa and Yamada didn’t approve of his vigilantism – it was the main reason why he had moved out – but he hadn’t thought it would make Aizawa so angry.

Aizawa continued, “Every night I worry that you might not come back from your little ‘outings’. But I never know because you never return any of our texts or calls. And tonight, I get a call because I’m still your emergency contact and I find out that you have been destroying your body day after day, being increasingly reckless as you ignore the Hero Code and your own morals!”

Hitoshi looked down and traced an old scar on his forearm.

“Answer me, dammit!”

The teenager looked up, glaring into blazing red eyes as his patience ran out. “What else am I supposed to do?! Waste away while Denki is suffering on the other side of the mirror? I know that I can still save him. I just need to be stronger! Otherwise, I have nothing left!”

The older man reeled back as if slapped. “Nothing left?” he hissed incredulously. “Nothing left?! You have us! Your family! Your parents and your little sister! Are you really willing to throw all of that away for someone who is essentially brain-dead?!”

Hitoshi gaped at the audacity.

Aizawa continued, “Don’t get me wrong, I love him too. He was my student and I did all I could to help him. So did you. But now there’s nothing left. So please, come home.”

Hitoshi trembled, his rage tinting his vision red. His hands clenched into fists, thin sheets bunching between his fingers. “How can you say that?! He’s still in there, he just needs the right help! We just need to try harder! How can you just give up on him? I still love him!”

“And what are you going to do if he still can be helped? You’re not a doctor or a psychologist and your Quirk isn’t going to work against someone who’s not in his right mind.”

Tears spilled out of his eyes and down his cheeks. “You don’t know that! It could be just what he needs to get into his right mind!”

Aizawa set his jaw. “I’m taking you home. And I don’t want you visiting Kaminari anymore.”

#my writing #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #dysphoria in rubies gold lilac and emerald #hitoshi shinsou #denki kaminari #shouta aizawa

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sclfmastery · 2 years

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I posted 2,442 times in 2022

458 posts created (19%)

1,984 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mostincrediblechange

@the-patrex

@themastergifs

@conduitandconjurer

@koscheioakdown

I tagged 1,750 of my posts in 2022

Only 28% of my posts had no tags

#ooc - 520 posts

#ic - 189 posts

#master of a nothing place (dhawan) - 171 posts

#dw spoilers - 158 posts

#i'm alive (simm) - 118 posts

#thoschei - 63 posts

#meta - 50 posts

#lol - 46 posts

#lmao - 45 posts

#ownership enough (ten) - 39 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#for the longest time thirteen was my favorite doctor because her seeming optimism was an antidote to twelve's horribly depressing end

My Top Posts in 2022:

This is the most perfect encapsulation of what I do with every single piece of canon, LOL.

100 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

There was nothing in sight But memories left abandoned There was nowhere to hide The ashes fell like snow And the ground caved in Between where we were standing And your voice was all I heard That I get what I deserve

So give me reason To prove me wrong To wash this memory clean Let the floods cross The distance in your eyes Give me reason To fill this hole Connect this space between Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies Across this new divide

(He’s baaaack...... )

108 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

also is no one talking about how the Master’s new TARDIS is a reflection of an utterly deranged, past-all-hope mindset of hostile yet desperate mimicry? its interior is a complementary foil and ideological inverse of hers:

LITERALLY, the same exact structure, to “mock” her, yes, but come on. It’s more than that, and so are the outfits. I called this years ago and again one month ago. He is so preoccupied by the fact that they are no longer equals, because his identity is a REACTION to HERS. to have no selfhood anymore because he can no longer claim to be her peer has BROKEN him. LITERALLY THIS INTERIOR IS A PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF THE INSIDE OF HIS MIND. BRIGHT AND COLD AND BLUE AND PURPLE LIKE A BRUISE, WHEREAS HER TARDIS IS WARM YELLOWS AND GOLDS AND LIKE A BREATH OF LIFE.

i wish someone could capture and rehabilitate him. like i literally want him to go to a mental health facility. this is only going to get worse each time he reappears. i want to laugh about the gimmick of it but it’s actually DEEEPLY tragic???

121 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

(Very) belated happy birthday, @mostincrediblechange, my creative partner in crime ;)

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn Remember me, love When I'm reborn As a shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn --Hozier

144 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So to jump off of a Tweet I made (I’m Ambs):

No but really. Indulge me for a moment.

The Master thinks of Tecteun’s discovery of the Timeless Child as a despicable disgusting thing; he’s too angry and hurt at the Doctor to consciously recognize that his disgust isn’t just at “everything I am is somehow because of you”--it’s ALSO at the fact that his best friend was killed over and over and experimented on as a child AS THE FOUNDATION OF AN ENTIRE CIVILIZATION.

The civilization to which HE belongs, which HE always thought entitled him to something akin to godhood ( “I’m a Time Lord, I have that right,” said Simm Master, during Ten’s era). Which, after absorbing the entire Matrix and all its knowledge, he is now aware is a GENOCIDAL LIE (“everything you know is a lie,” Spyfall Part 1). Including his identity. Far more importantly, including HER identity. “Call me by my name,” he demanded of her, on her knees (because, Doctor, you have always defined me and you always will, and I’m learning that’s inescapable. I have no autonomy, control, or mastery, over anything).

But the Master is nothing if not obsessive. He can’t let it go. He can’t accept this: especially after having been Missy in the Vault for 70 years, trying to placate the Doctor by “turning good,” and ending up killing and being killed by herself as thanks for it. So he’s off to work. First the Spyfall plot, including the encoded message (”why should I make it easy for you? It wasn’t for me”): that falls through quickly, and gives him 77 years among the worst pockets of humanity and human history, more pain and resentment in which to marinate.

Next, he absorbs the Cyberium and creates the Cyber Masters (the corpses of the Time Council and Lords, who have KNOWINGLY reaped the benefits of genocide, mutilated into Cybermen with the Doctor’s DNA). This is all mere ritual: he has no real desire to follow through with conquering the universe. He wants to die. He begs the Doctor to kill them both with the Death Particle. Then at last they’ll be equals again. She refuses, runs (because unlike him, she has other people to live for), and lets a human try to kill him instead. This won’t do.

So he escapes, and chooses to live a little longer.

Now, in Power of the Doctor, he decides, okay, if I can’t just kill us all, this awful lie of a “great civilization” build on the predation of my childhood best friend, I’m going to make it so that this entire scenario never occurred to begin with. He drops the Doctor a hint--as one always does, in the best of cat and mouse games (though he has told us, now, in his deepest state of despair, “it isn’t a game”). What’s the hint?

“This is the end of your existence. You will be ERASED.”

It’s that word--erased--that draws ALL my attention. Someone on Twitter noticed that what the Doctor is standing inside, when we see her regeneration energy being activated, and hear her calling “YAZ,” looks an awful lot like a LOOM.

Why’s that important? Because looms synthesize Time Lord offspring using genetic sequences.

So logically, they can undo those genetic sequences too.

What would happen if the Master robbed the Doctor of identity as completely as he has been robbed? In his mind, what makes her special, deserving of adulation, is her capacity to be immortal. He misses the idea that they are equals and foils. If he can’t make them equal again with a simple double suicide, then maybe he can extract the parts of her DNA that make her (in his mind) special.

Maybe the scene that we THINK is Thirteen’s regeneration is just a loom the Master is using to remove her ability to regenerate, period. And she’s screaming for Yaz because something has happened to Yaz, and if she can’t heal her with regeneration energy, Yaz will die.

And maybe the Master is TAKING that ability from her, to BECOME, in his mind, a SUPERIOR DOCTOR.

What if he’s found some way to prevent Tecteun from ever finding her--some causal chain of events that necessitates abducting earth seismologists and wiping certain famous earth artists from existence such that their paintings never existed (or maybe just the paintings, that’s not clear yet)? What if that’s why the Daleks were contacting the Doctor of all people for help--they are noticing parts of their history changing or going missing.

What if the Master has been able to create a functional temporal paradox (this might explain the two earths and two TARDISes) so that he and his “children” the Cyber Masters can go on existing, but simultaneously, the Doctor and the other Time Lords never came into being?

“You will be ERASED.”

269 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Text

How The OP Boys React To You Wearing Someone Else’s Jacket

A/N : hey! This is just something to make up for my lack of writing recently. Hope you enjoy!

Summary : a couple of the one piece boys react to you wearing someone else’s jacket instead of theirs. How could you? :>

includes ; Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, law and Mihawk.

only Luffy’s ended up being a hc, the others are like super short scenarios lol. Well. Just dialogue mostly.

Luffy

Visibly confused when he notices.

Why are you wearing Law’s jacket over your shoulders? Today isn’t particularly cold, at least not for him.

He isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t like it.

Will not hesitate to confront you and ask you straight up.

“Oi, [Name]! Why are you wearing Law’s jacket?”

He has the biggest, sulky pout on his lips with his arms crossed and staring at you.

Weird thing is, Law hasn’t been around for a while so you must’ve had that jacket for quite some time if you’re wearing it.

“Luffy. It just feels warm and big on me, so I wore it. Plus, this way, I won’t forget to return it to him when we see him again!”

Luffy pouts further at your comment and sighs, clearly growing agitated the longer you wore it.

Since Luffy didn’t particularly had a jacket, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it at your face.

“Wear this instead! I don’t want you wearing Law’s jacket, you’ll smell like him!”

Zoro

Clear displeasure and irritation evident when he sees you walking out in an all too familiar jacket.

“Why the hell are you wearing that?”

Tugging on Sanji’s blazer securely, you shrug and continue what you were doing.

“It’s chilly out, and Sanji offered me his jacket. It’s warm.”

Hearing your excuse merely increased his annoyance. That chivalrous bastard.

“Well take it off. It looks horrible on you.” He bluntly comments and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m cold though!”

“Fine.”

And so, Zoro walks on over towards you and not giving a damn if he ripped the jacket as he pulls it off your body, he unties his (kimono?) and before you could react,

he is pulling you into his embrace, before tying back up with you inside and carried you over to the railing of the deck.

He plops down and sits with his back to the railing and you in his lap. “Now you won’t be cold.” He says, wrapping his arms around you and shut his eyes.

Sanji

“Hm? [Name]-chan, why are you wearing Luffy’s shirt?”

Absolutely shocked at the many thoughts running through his mind. You were wearing Luffy’s shirt,

The same one that he wears everyday?! And so, LUFFY IS WALKING AROUND SHIRTLESS BECAUSE YOU ARE WEARING HIS SHIRT?!

“Oh, I—“

“HOW DARE YOU LUFFY, YOU BASTARD! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU, YOU STUPID RUBBER STRAW HAT!” Sanji cries out, completely lost and in tears. “HOW DARE YOU TAINT MY [NAME]-CHAN’S INNOCENCE LIKE THAT?!”

“Sanji! Relax! It’s not like that!”

You let out a breath as the chef finally relaxed, teary eyes and teardrops running down his cheeks. “*sniffles loudly* you sure?..”

“Of course I’m sure! Usopp, Luffy and I were just playing a game and I got wet. Luffy let me wear his shirt to cover myself while I changed.”

Sanji widens his eyes in realization and relaxes his shoulders, exhaling out in slight relief. “Oh.. I see..”

“Besides, I wouldn’t go for Luffy. I’d totally go for Zoro—“ before you could continue your tease, Sanji interrupts.

“YOU DUMBASS MARIMO!”

Law

“[Name]-ya. Why are you wearing that?”

Taking a second glance when you enter the room, he can feel confusion and his eyebrow twitching in irritation at the familiar sight.

“Actually, how the hell do you even have that?”

Glancing down at the large cape/jacket that had a faint smell of alcohol, metal and Kid’s common body scent, you shrug in response.

“I don’t actually know, but I found it and it’s comfortable so I’m keeping it! Eustass can find another one.”

Law rubs the bridge of his nose and heaves a heavy sigh. “Do you mind taking it off? I don’t need the smell of that metal head filling my ship.”

Obviously, he just despised seeing you in it.

Law definitely doesn’t want to be near you just to smell Kid’s scent, either.

“Whyyy, it’s comfortable and I’m feeling cold..” you whine and Law rolls his eyes. “Then take this.”

He grumbles under his breath and slips off his doctor’s coat and held it out for you, his other hand and attention focused on his paperwork.

He just wanted to see you in his jacket really, he was sure you’d look a hundred times better.

Excited, you immediately take off Kid’s coat and take Law’s, slipping it on and grin widely. “Smells just like you... and disinfectant.”

You laugh a bit and Law couldn’t help the curve of his lips at the sight of you.

You did look a lot better in his clothes.

Ace

“Baby, don’t tell me that’s still Sabo’s jacket you’re wearing..”

The fake betrayal and expression of pain and sadness lit his eyes and you felt just a pang of guilt.

“Maybe.. he offered it to me! I just came across him today and he didn’t want me to get cold.”

“Why didn’t you wear a jacket?”

Visibly sulky and pouty, and whining that you shouldn’t be wearing another man’s clothes, especially his brothers.

“I forgot! And besides, I would have taken yours but you don’t wear anything.” You hum, and Ace smirks lightly.

“Because it’s easier to get in the mood that way~” he jokes and you roll your eyes despite the giggle that slipped out.

“Besides, if you were cold, I am literally an actual body heater. Just cuddle and hug me if you’re cold!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s go and get some cuddles right now then.”

“I know another way I can warm you up instead~” Ace hums, immediately picking you up by the waist and taking you to the bedroom.

Sabo

When Sabo returns early from a small task, he finds you on the bed and in a particular someone’s jacket, confusing him.

“Hey, love. Is this Roronoa’s blazer? Why do you have it?”

You’re overjoyed seeing the blonde returning so soon, but a bit startled at his appearance and question.

“Oh, Zoro lent it to me! It was during Dressrosa, before we left after talking with his crew mates.”

“Why didn’t you just ask for mine?” Sabo pouts, frowning when he saw how adorable you looked in something that wasn’t his or technically yours.

“You were busy with explaining your backstory to them, I didn’t want to interrupt you.” You sheepishly say, seeing his pout and was quick to take off the jacket.

“But since you’re here, give me yours! It smells like you, so I want it!”

“You know I have plenty in the closet..” he mumbles, reluctantly taking his off with a sulk, hiding his secret smile. “So I’m just second choice?”

Of course, now he was just teasing you.

“Sabo!”

Mihawk

“Mi amor, tell me the reason for the red-haired’s coat around you.”

Mihawk’s expression is laced with displeasure and disappointment at the sight of it.

He is equally annoyed and irritated that you seem to have Shank’s smell lingering on you from his coat.

“When Shanks visited, he left his coat behind. It’s comfortable so I wore it.”

“Well, take it off. It’s an annoyance to see and smell. Throw it out.”

You could only sigh at Mihawk’s stern, yet toneless voice and follow his order, slipping the material off your shoulders and went to an open window.

“Wait.”

Mihawk pulls at his mini cross blade and swings twice, successfully cutting the fabric into pieces just as you released your hold on it.

“Was that necessary?..” you mumble, a slight smile and amusement playing on your face as Mihawk nods, shutting his golden eyes. “Of course.”

A/N : I was going to include Kid and Corazon but like, this was a lot already and this isn’t even that great in general, and I just wanted to post something :> hope you still like this!

Sorry if it seems rushed and not that great. I’m really out of my writing game lately. :/

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #trafalgar d. water law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #ace x reader #one piece sabo x reader #chief of staff sabo #dracule mihawk x reader

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shkspr · 3 years

Note

hi. on your post where you may or may not have ended on 'moffat is either your angel or your devil' did you have maybe an elaboration on that somewhere that i could possibly hear about. i'm very much a capaldi era stan and i've never tried to defend the matt smith era even though it had delightful moments sometimes so i wonder where that puts me. i'd love to hear your perspective on moffat as a person with your political perspective. -nicole

hi ok sorry i took so long to respond to this but i dont think you know how LOADED this question is for me but i am so happy to elaborate on that for you. first a few grains of salt to flavor your understanding of the whole situation: a. im unfairly biased against moffat bc im a davies stan and a tennant stan; b. i still very much enjoy and appreciate moffat era who for many reasons; and c. i hate moffat on a personal level far more than i could ever hate his work.

the thing is that its all always gonna be a bit mixed up bc i have to say a bunch of seemingly contradictory things in a row. for instance, a few moffat episodes are some of my absolute favorites of the rtd era, AND the show went way downhill when moffat took over, AND the really good episodes he wrote during the rtd era contained the seeds of his destruction.

like i made that post about the empty child/the doctor dances and it holds true for blink and thats about it bc the girl in the fireplace and silence in the library/forest of the dead are good but not nearly on the same level, and despite the fact that i like them at least nominally, they are also great examples of everything i hate about moffat and how he approached dw as a whole.

basically. doctor who is about people. there are many things about moffats tenure as showrunner that i think are a step up from rtd era who! actual gay people, for one! but i think that can likely be attributed mostly to an evolving Society as opposed to something inherent to him and his work, seeing as rtd is literally gay, and the existence of queer characters in moffats work doesnt mean the existence of good queer characters (ill give him bill but thats it!)

i have a few Primary Grievances with moffat and how he ran dw. all of them are things that got better with capaldi, but didnt go away. they are as follows:

moffat projects his own god complex onto the doctor

rtd era who had a doctor with a god complex. you cant ever be the doctor and not have a god complex. the problem with moffats era specifically is that the god complex was constant and unrepentant and was seen as a fundamental personality trait of the doctor rather than a demon he has to fight. he has the Momence where you feel bad for him, the Momence where he shows his humility or whatever and youre reminded that he doesnt want to be the lonely god, but those are just. moments. in a story where the doctor thinks hes the main character. rtd era doctor was aware that he wasnt the main character. he had to be an authority sometimes and he had to be the loner and he had to be sad about it, but he ultimately understood that he was expendable in a narrative sense.

this is how you get lines like “were the thin fat gay married anglican marines, why would we need names as well?” from the same show that gave you the gut punch moment at the end of midnight when they realize that nobody asked the hostess for her name. and on the one hand, thats a small sticking point, but on the other hand, its just one small example of the simple disregard that moffat has for humanity.

incidentally, this is a huge part of why sherlock sucked so bad: moffats main characters are special bc theyre so much bigger and better than all the normal people, and thats his downfall as a showrunner. he thinks that his audience wants fucking sheldon cooper when what they want is people.

like, ok. think of how many fantastic rtd era eps are based in the scenario “what if the doctor wasnt there? what if he was just out of commission for a bit?” and how those eps are the heart of the show!! bc theyre about people being people!! the thing is that all of the rtd era companions would have died for the doctor but he understood and the story understood that it wasnt about him.

this is like. nine sending rose home to save her life and sacrifice his own vs clara literally metaphysically entwining her existence w the doctor. ten also sending rose with her family to save her life vs river being raised from infancy to be obsessed w the doctor and then falling in love w him. martha leaving bc she values herself enough to make that decision vs amy being treated like a piece of meat.

and this is simultaneously a great callback to when i said that moffats episodes during the rtd era sometimes had the same problems as his show running (bc girl in the fireplace reeks of this), and a great segue into the next grievance.

moffat hates women

he hates women so fucking much. g-d, does steven moffat ever hate women. holy shit, he hates women. especially normal human women who prioritize their normal human lives on an equal or higher level than the doctor. moffat hated rose bc she wasnt special by his standards. the empty child/the doctor dances is the nicest he ever treated her, and she really didnt do much in those eps beyond a fuck ton of flirting.

girl in the fireplace is another shining example of this. youve got rose (who once again has another man to keep her busy, bc moffat doesnt think shes good enough for the doctor) sidelined for no reason only to be saved by the doctor at the last second or whatever. and then youve got reinette, who is pretty and powerful and special!

its just. moffat thinks that the doctor is as shallow and selfish as he is. thats why he thinks the doctor would stay in one place with reinette and not with rose. bc moffat is shallow and sees himself in the doctor and doesnt think he should have to settle for someone boring and normal.

not to mention rose met the doctor as an adult and chose to stay with him whereas reinette is. hm. introduced to the doctor as a child and grows up obsessed with him.

does that sound familiar? it should! bc it is also true of amy and river. and all of them are treated as viable romantic pairings. bc the only women who deserve the doctor are the ones whose entire existence revolves around him. which includes clara as well.

genuinely i think that at least on some level, not even necessarily consciously, that bill was a lesbian in part bc capaldi was too old to appeal to mainstream shippers. like twelve/clara is still a thing but not as universally appealing as eleven/clara but i am just spitballing. but i think they weighed the pros and cons of appealing to the woke crowd over the het shippers and found that gay companion was more profitable. anyway the point is to segue into the next point, which is that moffat hates permanent consequences.

moffat hates permanent consequences

steven moffat does not know how to kill a character. honestly it feels like hes doing it on purpose after a certain point, like he knows he has this habit and hes trying to riff on it to meme his own shit, but it doesnt work. it isnt funny and it isnt harmless, its bad writing.

the end of the doctor dances is so poignant and so meaningful and so fucking good bc its just this once! everybody lives, just this once! and then he does p much the same thing in forest of the dead - this one i could forgive, bc i do think that preserving those peoples consciousnesses did something for the doctor as a character, it wasnt completely meaningless. but everything after that kinda was.

rory died so many times its like. get a hobby lol. amy died at least once iirc but it was all a dream or something. clara died and was erased from the doctors memory. river was in prison and also died. bill? died. all of them sugarcoated or undone or ignored by the narrative to the point of having effectively no impact on the story. the point of a major character death is that its supposed to have a point. and you could argue that a piece of art could be making a point with a pointless death, ie. to put perspective on it and remind you that bad shit just happens, but with moffat the underlying message is always “i can do whatever i want, nothing is permanent or has lasting impact ever.”

basically, with moffat, tragedy exists to be undone. and this was a really brilliant, really wonderful thing in the doctor dances specifically bc it was the doctor clearly having seen his fair share of tragedy that couldnt be helped, now looking on his One Win with pride and delight bc he doesnt get wins like this! and then moffat proceeded to give him the same win over and over and over and over. nobody is ever dead. nobody is ever unable to be saved. and if they are, really truly dead and/or gone, then thats okay bc moffat has decided that [insert mitigating factor here]*

*the mitigating factor is usually some sort of computerized database of souls.

i can hear the moffat stans falling over themselves to remind me that amy and rory definitely died, and they did - after a long and happy life together, they died of old age. i dont consider that a character death any more than any other character choosing to permanently leave the tardis.

and its not just character deaths either, its like, everything. the destruction of gallifrey? never mind lol! character development? scrapped! the same episode four times? lets give it a fifth try and hope nobody notices. bc he doesnt know how to not make the doctor either an omnipotent savior or a self-pitying failure.

it is in nature of doctor who, i believe, for the doctor to win most of the time. like, it wouldnt be a very good show if he didnt win most of the time. but it also wouldnt be a very good show if he won all of the time. my point is that moffats doctor wins too often, and when he doesnt win, it feels empty and hollow rather than genuinely humbling, and you know hes not gonna grow from it pretty much at all.

so like. again, i like all of doctor who i enjoy all of it very much. i just think that steven moffat is a bad show runner and a decent writer at times. and it is frustrating. and im not here to convince or convert anyone im just living my truth. thank you for listening.

#sorry if this is repetitive or makes no sense or if i got some details of the show wrong #i simply couldnt be bothered to put too much effort into this post #lest it become a research paper and take me several weeks to answer #anyway thats all my opinions #dw #ok to rb

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defectivehero · 3 years

Text

masterlist

disclaimer: this doesn’t include all of my writing. in fact, i have hit the maximum limit for links in one post, lmao. i suggest hitting the “hero x villain” tag option in the search bar of my blog for some newer stuff!

the pieces that are down below are separated into categories:

A. some recent works

1. hero x villain

2. hero x mentor

3. whump

4. mlm

5. wlw

6. poetry !

7. miscellaneous stuff

_______

A. some recent works

destined to intertwine (scientist x villain)

exhausted hero, concerned villain

confusing villain

in which the villain doesn’t kill the hero

mirrored

art student hero and professor villain

1. HERO X VILLAIN

i’m sorry, these aren’t in any order whatsoever. i would go ahead and organize them more, but i have no idea how to do that so...

oh no!! the hero is about to fall off a building!!

villain has a change of heart in terms of torturing the hero

“I'm not stealing! I’m just returning something I stole-”

an extended hand, a look to the future

the hero’s chasing supervillain when they fall-

the villain will murder but they draw the line at transphobia

the hero is privileged.

the villain breaks into the hero’s dorm, and immediately regrets everything

who’s the real victim?

hero and villain have a disagreement

villain sneaks into hero’s apartment... hero just wants sleep

villainy: a poem

this is all clumped together oops

villain gives hero a love potion

protective hero!! soft villain!!!

villain comforting a mourning hero

hero is horrible at taking care of themselves. villain takes offense.

hero and villain try to set up their sidekicks. chaos ensues.

PURE ANGST. MWAHAHAHAH

supervillain kidnaps hero in order to draw villain out from hiding

sleep-deprived hero, amused villain

hero helps villain rescue their kidnapped sister

hero and villain at a gala

doctor hero x injured villain

hero is tired. and thinks villain is a pillow. villain begrudgingly accepts their fate. as a pillow.

hanahaki disease

villain’s sidekick tries to kill hero

hero pet-sits while villain is on vacation

hero is a badass. that’s it, that’s the description.

hero’s in a fight club. villain is possessive.

the hero agency finds out about hero’s relationship with villain

a love letter to the villain

the villain being a good older sibling, but a questionable person lol

flirty villain x exasperated male hero

long haired hero cuts their hair. villain is distressed.

basketball player hero x villain

hero stands villain up on a date. villain is about to leave when...

even more!!!

hero has an asthma attack

deaf hero’s hearing aids break during a battle, villain notices

self destructive hero and a concerned villain

villain’s son wants hero’s autograph

villain and hero spying on supervillain, aka makeout stakeout ;)))) lol

hero breaks into villain’s house just for the cereal

fluff??? on my blog??? unheard of.

there’s only one bed. oh nOooOooO

hero loses their powers...

supervillain drops hero on villain’s doorstep as a “present.”

villain’s moral alignment is lawful evil or chaotic good? lawful neutral? chaotic neutral? idfk

villain thinks hero is retiring

2. HERO X MENTOR

hero’s mentor finds them injured after a battle

hero is injured but tries to hide it from mentor...

hero is a healer. they overexert themselves…

role reversal

hero exhausts themselves (are we surprised? no.)

fluff!!!

3. WHUMP / WHUMP VIBES

on the brink

pirate villain!

detective x villain

villain has control over hero’s body and mind

hero is acting strange...

hero realizes they’re being used.

“poison? no, i wouldn’t have..”

who’s the real victim?

whumper leaves a present for whumpee in their cell...

whumpee tries to be what whumper wants. it doesn’t work.

whumpee is finally free. or are they?

4. MLM STUFFS

he/him pronouns used

rapunzel but make it gay (nblm)

bodyguard x prince

prince x assassin

defense attorney x prosecutor (nblm)

friends to lovers, reincarnation au

hero helps villain out of a depressive episode

hs hero and villain, hero’s friends are assholes so villain stands up for hero

hero is supervillain’s son. villain is whipped regardless.

best friends to lovers!!

prince x soldier (nblm)

5. WLW STUFFS :)

she/her pronouns used

royal jealousy (princess x royal advisor)

just a vampire and her gf

hero is stressed about coming out to her family, villain helps her through it

hero and villain are secretly dating

villain drags hero away from the scene of the battle to “keep her safe”

villain helps hero out of a panic attack

villain keeps making fun of hero for how short she is

hero is homophobic. villain doesn’t let it slide.

6. poetry!

remnant

villainy

margins

7. other random pieces

defense attorney x prosecutor

supervillain x detective

vampire x human

villain x civilian (angsty)

vigilante x princess, vigilante is supposed to kill the princess...

exasperated scientist x flirty villain

happy reading :)

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muuurder · 2 years

Note

HI ITS ME FROM EARLIER(like wayyy earlier)! (i shall give myself the name 'meatball'

okay so i genuinely have no idea how i didnt piece together him being autistic as well as having bpd. it makes perfect sense to me. i can see the vision fully. greta being his favorite person makes sense because typically, youd feel protective over someone you love. but brahms took the extra step. he would literally do ANYTHING for her.

i also think that the theory that he hates baths is wrong. i think it would be virtually IMPOSSIBLE to stay clean while lurking inside walls which also probably have very bad ventilation, plus he isnt supposed to be alive, so... he doesnt have to opportunity to bathe. we've seen his parents and the fire happened when he was 8, so id assume he developed a few habits since he had such strict parents. they probably heavily enforced things like hygiene.

i also completely agree with him only killing cole. the fear of abandonment can make you say and do things that arent entirely healthy. people take his threats to heart and turn him into a monster but he killed cole to protect greta. i mean she did ask for him to help her. he didnt kill Malcolm, he was just in the way a few times. he had already been left by his parents, he couldnt lose greta too.

i just read your headcanons and THE COOKING ONE, I LITERALLY HAVE THE SAME THING TYPED UP IN MY NOTES. he is definitely a helper. i feel like hed stand there and wait to be given a task and as for helping, i have an image of just knocking on a wall and he just spawns like "yes did you need something".

also i can see him having a cat. youd be wondering where him and the cat are, meanwhile theyre both in his room in the walls, just having a good time.

~meatball

YESSSS. Especially about the baths oh my god. I said before but I think he’s very tidy and actually really enjoys being clean. Including clean shave too, which I can’t imagine how rough it must be to shave with his burn scars. They aren’t smooth at all.

As far as Cole, I don’t think he even planned to harm COLE either. He tried to scare him off, I’d wager he’s actually not all that violent by nature. I think the mixture of threat and the he’s taking her from me and going to hurt greta, and the shattering of the sole item that has ever been used to allow him makeshift connection (though I can’t imagine how much resentment he likely has for the damn thing), it all kinda came to a head. Cause mind you his parents also just died, he’s upset and angry like I can’t blame him and honestly good riddens to Cole. He was a bastard. Fuck around and find out imo.

I will offer you this, I think once he gets used to being out of the walls he won’t go back in too often anymore. Possibly might move out. He’s been in there for years, and I feel like the moment you have the opportunity to come out you won’t want to go back in. It’ll feel too cramped and possibly have trauma reactions. Once your out of survival it’s wild how your body collapses. I will say if he does use the walls it’s to be a cheeky bastard. The cat likely won’t go in, king loves bathing far too much lol (at least in my story line).

I also Headcanon he likely has sight issues in one eye (near the burn) and possibly asthma or copd too due to smoke inhilation on top of dust and low air quality in the walls.

Aka the moment you get him comfy and trusting you, y’all making a doctors visit. To what doctor you ask? All of them. Every single one. He hasn’t had medical attention since before he was 8.

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sylvie-writes · 3 years

Text

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine.

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny.

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature.

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather.

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache.

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals.

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.”

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness.

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal.

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon.

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant.

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home.

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At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last.

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was.

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke.

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness.

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber.

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Lunch break at last.

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest.

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course.

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible.

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty.

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them.

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance.

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven.

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“Babe, dinner is ready!”

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten.

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister.

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain.

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple.

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for.

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially.

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more.

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.”

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.”

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt.

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“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed.

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you.

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture.

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips.

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?”

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else.

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair.

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made.

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair.

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy.

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor.

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand.

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison.

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help.

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages.

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look.

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you.

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own.

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same.

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis.

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk.

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague.

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath.

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat.

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

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The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes.

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on.

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose.

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors.

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Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer.

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

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For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak.

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions.

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.”

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure.

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room.

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve.

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!”

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.”

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.”

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you.

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued.

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face.

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand.

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze.

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.”

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him.

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.”

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!”

He really was too good for this world.

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a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #doctor steve rogers #doctor steve rogers x wife reader

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right-brain-of-froggy2 · 2 years

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Christmas In July- Chapter 3

Another lighthearted snippet of the Tracy’s Christmas for y’all! This one is a perfection reflection of my own experience of siblings giving me everything to wrap, including my own presents! And no, Froggy One is not excluded from that list lol

Without further ado: Little Saint Nick!

AO3 link here

John sits surrounded by half wrapped presents and scraps of mis-sized wrapping paper. The gingerbread men dancing on the paper mock him with their smiles. John rips a piece of tape stuck to the bottom of his sock.

Christmas is only a night away and the villa is dead quiet. EOS is handling the sparse missions as John take his required dirt-time. Kayo and Gordon are off the rota as well, leaving the remaining three spread out across the globe. Kayo’s doing some maintenance on Shadow but she’s as horrible as John is when it comes to wrapping presents. Her creative touch is not to be trusted.

And John really doesn’t feel like disturbing Gordon just for this.

The only noise is the sound of John’s frustrated huffing. (Not that John would ever admit to being bested by wrapping paper). He doesn’t want to count how many paper cuts litter his fingers. All he knows is that there’s enough for his hands to pulse with a stinging ache.

John kicks out the roll of wrapping paper and promptly swears as it unravels. He’s a fully grown man with a doctoral degree! He’s lived in peace on his own for years with the most advanced technology! He wrote textbooks for NASA! He’s John Glenn freaking Tracy! He should be able to figure out how to work the wrapping paper and scissors and tape and ribbons in some way that looks decently respectable!

But no.

John glares at the giant box. It glares back at him.

It’s the siblings’ tradition to get everyone a few small gifts, and then draw a name to get that person a more expensive present. Grandma then filled in to spoil her grandchildren to her heart’s content. This year, John had to get something for Alan. Out of everyone, the little astronaut is honestly the easiest to buy for.

Being the avid gamer he is, Alan had been wanting a new gaming chair that John had picked out last month. While the youngest normally played holo games, he enjoyed immersive console games every once in a while. The chair had built in keypads and speakers which John’s hoping are the right style.

The chair remains in a perfectly rectangle box and John still can’t manage to wrap it. But it can’t go unnoticed that he tried! Tried and failed miserably.

John lays his face in the carpet and let out a half-strangled moan. He has to get this wrapped before the stress does him in. Then he’ll be past the point of no return and stressed the rest of the holiday season. The party is upcoming tonight when One and Two arrive home. EOS set the ETA at seven; John has nothing to show for his attempts at wrapping since early this morning.

It’s nearing five thirty. John makes up his mind.

It’s time to go see Gordon.

John manages to get the box out in the hall and into the villa elevator with nothing but elbow grease and a prayer. The tape, ribbons, and scissors are spread between his chino pockets while the tube of paper sticks out awkwardly from under his elbow. Getting it into the infirmary is another matter altogether. By the time he’s gotten the box into the medbay, Gordon’s sitting up and judging the sweat dripping down John’s back hard.

“You having some trouble there, Johnny Boy?”

“Just fix it,” John grits out. He doesn’t correct Gordon because, well, he’s the one asking for a favor here.

Gordon laughs and scoots forward until his legs dangle off the edge of the bed. He chucks a pillow down and motions for John to help him get on the floor. He holds the arm not tangled up with IV antibiotics to John. “Give me the paper.”

“Here.”

“…really John? Gingerbread men?”

“Alan picked it out.” The astronaut looks to the other wrapping papers it is not a hard game of guessing which wrapping paper is form who, courtesy of Alan. “You can’t tell anyone,” John warns. Gordon gives him a look of utter shock.

“Why would I ever do that, brother mine?”

“Because you’re Gordon.”

“I’m also the only one in this godforsaken family that knows how to wrap presents.” Gordon nods his head to a stack of various wrapping papers, two pairs of scissors, a wide array of nametags, and bows on the medicine counter. John doesn’t know how he missed that upon entry. “You’re the last one. I’ve had plenty o’ visitors this holiday season. Maybe I should start charging people for my services.”

“You really want me to pay you?” John pulls out his wallet and his credit card. He waves it until Gordon slaps it away. “I’ll DD it to your account. I’m sure a rich boy like you must be hurting for money.”

“Ass,” Gordon says as he sticks out his tongue. “Just keep me company? might get too bored to wrap properly if you’re not here to keep me entertained,” Gordon pokes. John rolls his eyes but drops to the floor anyways. He quickly stands back up.

“Wait! I have all the others you need to wrap!”

Gordon unravels the paper and stares at the uneven hack marks along the edge as John races up the villa to get his load of smaller presents. “You’re so lucky mine are already wrapped.”

When John gets back, it’s with two boxes full of little presents for everyone. “I tried at least,” John says. “Last year I made you do it all without even trying.”

“Doing that is better than this!” Gordon answers without looking up. He snips off the end of the wrapping paper to start with an even edge. “You gave me two weeks last year! Not an hour!”

The chair is wrapped in what John can only assume is record time. The edges of the box are crisp and no wrinkles can be seen. Gordon’s handiwork is impressive considering the infection he’s getting over and being one fully functional arm short with the IV line. John passes the ribbon to Gordon in hopes that Alan’s present will get some extra decorations.

And the aquanaut doesn’t disappoint. Gordon runs the edge of the ribbon along the scissors blade to achieve the perfect curl. It’s a big box and takes most of the wheel of ribbon, but Gordon manages to make it look picturesque. He moves onto the presents for all the brothers, wrapping them with what’s left of the gingerbread paper before moving onto the mismatched set left in his medbay room.

“One of these is mine, isn’t it?”

“Oh shit, yeah,” John says as he scrambles to dig through the boxes for Gordon’s present. His fish brother laughs and kicks him away.

“You really think I’m bothered? Scott’s been making me wrap my own present since high school and Alan’s joined in. I don’t like surprises that much anyways.”

John’s going to debate the issue, but Gordon moves onto digging into the first box of presents. “Who is this for?” Gordon asks as he holds up a bath bomb set and a face mask set. “Wait, Scott?”

“He’s so stressed. Literally all of the time,” John exclaimed as he starfishes back on the floor next to Gordon.

“But skincare?”

“I had EOS run some search history recon missions for me.”

“You didn’t.”

John smirks with a Cheshire grin. “It can’t hurt, right? Besides, I told her to keep everything a secret.”

“He’s going to kill you when he has to open a…” Gordon peers at the label, “leopard print aloe vera moisturizing face mask set in front of everyone.” Gordon laughs and sniffs at the bath bombs individually. While they have a plainer design than the funky face masks, each is a unique color and scent. He gives a thumbs up at his favorite scent of mulberry. They’re wrapped in mere seconds.

John shifts in his spot. “Do you want to help? I can at least manage to put bows on the tops and labeling.”

“All we have is actually ribbon. Not those sticky pre-made bows,” Gordon warns. “I’ll teach you if you want.”

Gordon sorts through the mess of paper lying about before finding the leftover rolls of silver and red ribbon from previous wrapping fiascos. John sits to the side, watching how Gordon unravels a good length before folding it over with his fingers and applying a small amount of tape to hold it in place against the top of the present. He waves John over and had him practice on a piece of discarded paper. It turns out about as well as John expects.

“Y’know? I think no one will even notice there’s no bows,” John says as he tosses the frustrating ribbon to the side.

Gordon moves on to a pair of shoes as John wallows in self-pity over the lack of ability. Opening the box, he takes out one of the wrestling shoes. “Kayo?”

“She mentioned how her favorite pair are getting worn out and she never goes down into the gym without them. EOS found that this was her normal brand and size.”

“You should have stuck with scrunchies, man. Fuel her obsession,” Gordon jokes. He throws the shoes back into the box before wrapping them.

Next up is a no-spill coffee mug. “I’m guessing Virgil?” Gordon holds up the box with the mug to the fluorescent lights as if it is a precious gem. He strokes his chin.

“You make it sound like any of the rest of us drink enough coffee to be worthy of that thing.”

“Did he really need another one though?”

“Put it on the ground.”

He follows John suggestion. Once the mug is flat on the ground, John smacks it with his hand. Gordon jumps at the sudden sound but the mug doesn’t flinch. It stands upright in the exact same spot as before.

“Sorcery…”

Gordon moves on after wrapping the mug in a new snowflake print paper. The gingerbread one only lasted so long with Alan’s gaming chair.

“What about this?”

He’s in the middle of folding an oversized sweater with a simple design on it. Gordon pets the soft material more than actually folding it. He passes it over and John gets the opportunity to show off his own skills. Not that John’s naturally talented or anything, but he folds the sweater with military accurateness. Something that Gordon never did pick up on in WASP.

“This is the ‘just wrap it and forget about it’ present.”

“Ooh!”

There’s a low rumbling as One’s silo is opened. John and Gordon share twin looks. The sweater is finished and shoved back into the box with the other wrapped presents.

“Want help getting all this off?”

“Hell yes.” Gordon holds his arm out for John to help disengage the drip. He locks the line so no more antibiotic or saline will dirty the floor, and ensures that Gordon’s pick line left in his arm is in a comfortable position. John wraps his brother’s arm in a wrap to keep the IV from jostling around or potentially getting wet.

Gordon is bouncing with Christmas cheer and the promise to get to escape the infirmary. John piles up the presents in a medical cart before following Gordon out into the chaos that is the Tracy Christmas present exchange.

#gordon tracy #john tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #christmas #christmas in july #all the presents!

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