#every time he does the “i'm the doctor” bit he has to deal with two people going “and WE'RE the DOCTORDONNA” right after him

[captainsupernoodle]

an absolute travesty we only had the DoctorDonnax2 for like half an hour total. can you Imagine the chaos. the doctor is all like "he was born in fire and blood and war" because hating himself and his choices is his oldest pastime and lookee here! free doctor he can blame and boot out of the tardis! i think they were indicating that blue had donna's memories, but i adore the concept of them having a twin telepathy thing.

the doctor is right to be scared. there are now two people in the tardis who have ALL the context to call him out about his decisions. one is him, who we already know he Despises. one is his best friend, who's literally carrying a piece of him right after he's had the idea that he turns everyone he lets close into the worst parts of himself planted in his head. both of them are part donna and therefore categorically incapable of letting him comfortably retreat into his drama persona and avoid his problems. both of them are also part timelord and therefore he can't "i'm a 900yo alien from the most advanced civilization in the world, i am Unknowable" his way out of it. there's two of them, so they're ready to tag-team him into oblivion.

picture it. we get another donna season. it's just the doctor trying desperately to run away from his worst nightmare of being Known and Loved and Called Out On His Bullshit and the DoctorDonna twins chasing him down with cheerful bloodlust. incredible.

[ghost-proofbaby]

never love an anchor (e.m. x reader)

"On some level, I think I always understood that a ship could never really love an anchor."

warnings: severe hurt/brief comfort, suicidal ideations, severely depressed reader. again: detailed recount of suicidal ideations. dead dove: do not eat.

wc: 5.8k+

an: i cannot emphasize this enough - this fic deals with a severely depressed, and blatantly suicidal reader. it is extremely heavy. it is extremely triggering. it is extremely self-indulgent. the romance aspect is ambiguous and the comfort aspect at the end is brief. this is a genuine, and sincerely personal piece of writing. it is an outline of how suicidal ideations may present themselves to some people. of these 5k words, 4k is deeply littered with reader's ideations without sugar coating. please, please, please do not read this unless you're in the state of mind to read it. you've surely heard it before but i'll say it just to be sure: it is a permanent solution for temporary feelings. and, just in case no one has told you, i'm glad you're alive. if you're reading this, i'm glad that you're alive. you're enough.

if you find yourself feeling like reader, i urge that you find resources such as those linked. hotlines, therapists, friends, your doctor, your family - please. i do not wish these emotions upon anyone, and they should never be taken lightly.

that being said, here are my guts from a very vulnerable moment, spilled out across the page. please handle them with care if you choose to read.

Technically speaking, the pressure that the human body is capable of handling almost seems infinite. When introduced slowly, and time is given to adjust, there is no pinpointed amount of pressure that dooms the human body. Like a crab in slow boiling water, your body should be theoretically able to handle a steady increase, bit by bit, and never truly notice. 

So why does it currently feel like you’re dying?

The pressure was never an overnight thing. It was a conglomeration you’d gathered, piece by piece, collecting little souvenirs of all the responsibilities you can’t currently remember if you’d ever agreed to along the way. It hadn’t been sudden, it hadn’t been with lack of adjusting, it hadn’t been a pressure suddenly unloaded upon you all at once – you’d done this, brick by brick, all with your own two hands. 

Keeping up with friends, keeping up with work, keeping up with expectations. Always trying to run ahead of the curve, always trying to be better. You should be fine. You shouldn’t even notice. You shouldn’t be sobbing on your bathroom floor, clutching the edge of your porcelain tub, every single breath a labor of survival. 

It feels like every bone in your body is splintering. It feels like the world has cracked open your ribs, one by one, just for show. You don’t feel poetic like the movies, you don’t feel like a valuable lesson learned in the books. You feel as though you’ve become nothing more than some crude display in a contemporary art gallery, and you were the one to hang yourself on the wall. 

Needles prickle across your skin with another heaving sob, as if you can feel the push pins you’ve used to spread yourself out for consumption. 

We still on for tonight? 

The text from Eddie glares at you from your phone discarded on the floor mere inches away. You’re lucky the screen hadn’t broken when you’d thrown it down on the ground on your way to the toilet, dry heaving through all your tears. 

He wasn’t a part of the issue. If anything, he was part of the solution. 

A shining clean slate, pristine whites and a scratch-free surface for you to press your cheek to when it all got a bit much. An abyss of freedom and openness for when the world was all a bit smothering. An anchor to cling to, a rope to tie around your wrists to keep from floating too far. The willow tree in a graveyard to rest your back against, the caress of a warm sun even if only momentarily as you stared out across headstones of all the pieces of you that you can never get back. Every version of you that has long since buried, a few even with newly churned dirt resting upon them. Something soft, something sacred, to rest your hands upon. 

Why does he still let you rest your bloodied and dirtied palms on his shoulders? Did he ever agree to that to begin with? 

You can’t remember. Or maybe your brain is simply refusing to recall. 

I hate to cancel, but I’m sick. I don’t think I can come out tonight :-( 

What? Is everything okay? Are you okay? Do I need to bring you anything? 

Please don’t.

The please is what gives you away. You should have forgone it, should have offered him a lighthearted response instead. 

But there is a pit in the bottom of your stomach, and seeing all the question marks across his text only made it more terminal. Only gave it more reason to swallow you whole. Only gave it more reason to grow and to tangle up and to restrict each stuttering breath of yours that you can’t seem to steady. 

Another buzz comes from your phone, but you don’t look to read it. You resort to resting your forehead against the lip of your toilet, all attempts at a deep breath futile as you finally taste the salt across your lips. 

Were you too much? Were you not enough? Was it possible to be an odd juxtaposition of both? 

A harrowing thought crosses your mind, and you know if Eddie could read minds across the intricate webbing that connects cell phones, he’d grab you by your shoulders. Maybe shake you until you see sense, or maybe cling to you until the thought has faded into nothingness. As if he could squeeze you hard enough to press together all the splinters that are left of your bones, forming a new body – a better body. One that can handle the pressure. One that isn’t imploding upon itself. A more durable mind, a more capable suit of skin to occupy. 

Does it even matter anymore? Would it even matter if I simply vanished? 

Would it be so bad to let the pit finally consume you? To just give in, to let it erase you from existence. To finally wave your white flag and let the awfulness inside of you finally win the battle, erasing you from existence and leaving behind an empty space in the world that could be filled with someone better.

Someone who could be a better friend. Someone who could be a harder worker. Someone who wasn’t choked up on their bathroom floor, beginning to contemplate if the painful gasps were even worth it. 

Were you worth it? Were you worth the air in your lungs? Or could it better serve someone who could handle all the pressure? 

And it wasn’t even that much pressure to begin with, if you pick it apart thread by thread. It was the natural weight of the human experience, and you were still crumbling. 

There was a full bottle of ibuprofen in the cabinet. There was a busy street not far from your home. There was a bathtub that could easily be filled with water – you’d never been good at holding your breath, unless someone counted the last few months, in which that seemed to be all you were good at. 

There was even a bridge, 5.27 miles away from your house exactly. You could already envision the patch of grass you could park your car at, feel the drop in temperature as you stood and overlooked the tame waves of a man-made lake.

Maybe your feet didn’t even have to leave the pavement. Maybe it would be enough to just stand in the silence and see the jump with your own two eyes. 

You felt like nothing more than a ghost of yourself, yes, but maybe. Maybe, just maybe, there would still be a broken shard within you that could stir awake at it all. Maybe if you got up off the bathroom floor and set yourself into motion, it would open its eyes just in time to scream no. 

Ghosts don’t just appear. They were a vibrant soul once – they were somebody once. 

But it’s hard to imagine that you ever were. When it gets like this, it’s hard to push through all the tumultuous thoughts and loathly emotions to remember that. A version of you vibrant, a version of you that might have been worthy, if only for a moment. 

A version of you that wasn’t insulting to compare to others. That was capable of progress, of earning your blip of existence. 

You don’t want the bottle of ibuprofen. You don’t want the busy street. You don’t want the overflowing tub. You don’t even want the calm of the bridge. You just want it to stop. 

There’s a knock on your front door that echoes through the entire apartment. You dread that you already know who it is, but you can’t get up to answer. 

You can’t move from this very spot. You’re terrified of what will happen when you do. 

Will your bones collapse into ash upon the floor? Will you make one wrong move, and in a fit of pressure, make a terribly permanent decision for what feels like a terribly permanent feeling? 

Maybe you were born with the pit in your stomach. Maybe you were born with that black hole inside of you. Cursed to always be yearning, always be a juxtaposition, always be a ghost of what could have become. 

You think you hear the click of your front door opening. You think you hear heavy footsteps across the hardwood floors. You think, you think, you think. That’s the issue. 

The tears are still coming and going in erratic tides. The salt is drying out your lips, your cheeks, the corners of your eyes. You’d thought you’d been incapable of any more emotions like this, but your tear ducts have managed to prove you wrong. 

Does it even matter anymore?

You’d left the bathroom door wide open. 

Were you worth it?

You’d been home alone – past tense.

A more durable mind, a more capable suit of skin to occupy.

A soft gasp of your name has you microscopically lifting your head from the toilet seat. You know what the scene looks like; it looks like nothing more than the excuse you’d used. You look as though you’re ill, like you’ve been spilling your guts across the bathroom floor all night. 

If you had been, would it all feel a little less heavy? 

“Hey, Eds.” 

You’re tired. You’re exhausted. Your voice is nothing more than a drag of a whisper as you look up at your anchor standing in the doorway, his face painted with concern. 

Maybe you were an anchor – maybe being an anchor wasn’t a good thing. After all, what use does an anchor have beyond weighing down the ship? 

“Jesus,” he mutters as he rushes to your side, falling to his knees carelessly as his hand flies out to brush back tendrils of your hair, “You look like shit.”

You felt like shit. 

Selfishly, you lean into his touch, desperate for comfort. Desperate for those caring palms to soothe the ache you’d carried since birth. Desperate to hear him tell you that you’re wrong – hands to promise you that you’re worthy, fingers to wrap around your bones rather than these burning ropes. You’re bloodied and raw, fully on display, and you just want to be okay. 

You don’t want the bridge. You want Eddie. You want him to magically make it okay, and that’s unfair. 

You’re not his weight to carry, not his burden to shoulder. 

After far too long of a silence, one in which he sits patiently in with you, all you can really reply is a broken, “Yeah.” 

Immediately, he knows something is wrong. Because of course he does. 

Because he’s a good friend. He’s a good person. He has the right words more often than not, and his hands were always formed to heal rather than injure. Create rather than destroy. Those warm palms are made to hold the space he’s earned in the grand scheme of the Universe, and it almost makes you nauseous as the jealousy spreads. 

He’s good. 

And you’re simply rotten.

You used to lie to yourself and say it was simply one rotted bit amongst plenty of good, but tonight, it all seemingly comes to clarity. You can’t dig out the bad, cleanse yourself of the rot, because it’s all decay. 

You don’t have to let the pit consume you – it already has. You were born with it, and it had swallowed you whole from the first cry that had ever left your lips. 

He makes himself a bit more comfortable, and you almost feel bad for reducing him to nothing more than the bathroom floor, “You wanna talk about what’s really wrong?” 

“I’m sick.” 

“This isn’t just some stomach bug.”

Your throat begins to tighten again, and suddenly, his gentle touch across the crown of your head burns. Your eyes water ferociously, and your chest caves into itself.

You can’t make a better body or a more sound mind out of the mess you’ve become. You can’t pull gold from tarnished rubble. 

Confessing to him will only be handing over something heavy, something terrible, that he shouldn’t have to struggle with as well. But not offering him a sliver of the truth almost feels more dishonoring. 

“Do you ever feel like a waste of space?” you croak, leaning back, finally accepting that the small space of the toilet that had been cooling your face has gone warm. Another thing you’ve ruined, in hindsight, “Like, this world is filled with great people, and I just… I just, I’m taking up the space- I’m wasting the space-” 

You can’t get out the proper words. You don’t know how.

How do you say you want to cease to exist when you’re not really sure if that’s the truth? You’re miserable, and you’re selfish, and you’re not entirely sure your feet would have ever left the pavement if you had driven yourself to the bridge. You’d be too scared to do it.  

Too scared to miss the day that science announces it’s found a cure to all your rot, a miracle drug to erase the pit, a way to reverse all the damage you’ve been comprised of your whole life. 

His brows furrow and his hand stops all the calming movements, “What? Are you- are you saying you feel like a waste of space?”

It feels silly to admit it to other people. To try and describe how it all feels. Like a child trying to convince their parents the Boogeyman is real, you have to make him see that you’re right. You have evidence, you have proof, and it’s not just a feeling. 

“I don’t feel like I’m a waste of space,” you finally correct, both yourself and him, “I know I’m a waste of space.” 

“Bullshit.”

“Eddie, don’t-”

“No,” he cuts you off. And somehow, in only a way that he’s capable of, it’s not offensive, “You’re not. I’m not going to sit here and listen to my favorite person claim they’re wasting space-”

“I am!” It’s your turn in the cycle of interruption. You pull away from him entirely, chest heaving with the weight presenting itself once more, tears starting to fall all over again. You can’t even distinguish where the old tears stop and the new ones begin, “I really am. All I seem to do lately is just exist. And that’s such a- such a- that’s such a waste. I can’t read any of the things I should enjoy these days, I can’t even write. All of the words feel like they just come out wrong. I’m letting everyone down left and right, I’m never living up to whatever pedestal you’ve put me on. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life. I don’t even know where I’ll be in a year from now – I can’t even see that far in the future.”

Heaves become sobs, and the crumbling has begun once more. A cycle of breaking, a cycle of demolition. Even leaving behind the rubble feels like a crime. A waste of space. 

“I don’t think I’m a good person,” you manage to spit out between all your visceral reactions, “Every year, I tell myself the same thing – I’ll be better, I’ll be kinder, I’ll be worth it. And every year, I fail.” 

Can he see it? All the fractures and splinters and pits and metaphors? 

Can he smell it? All the rot and the destruction and hopelessness?

Can he feel it? All the pressure? 

Through your sniffles, you press your back to the tub, knees to your chin as you wrap your arms around your legs, desperately trying to shrivel up. To take up less space. To waste less space.

“I used to think I could make up for it,” you whisper, “I could offer people things that made them forget I’m… so useless. But I don’t think I’m even capable of that anymore.”

If he’s about to respond, it’s drowned out by your cries. You press your eyes hard into your kneecaps, until you see stars, and you try to swallow down all the embarrassment. Try to stop all the hurt from spilling out, to stop all your guts from painting the bathroom walls. 

He could simply sit there, let you wallow in your misery alone. Sit and stare as the artwork finally serves its purpose to the visitors of the gallery. Maybe jot down some commentary on how with your bones all spread out like this, the point the artist was attempting to make becomes oh so clear. 

And yet, he doesn’t. 

You know it’s his arms that are wrapping around you, pulling you from the chill of the tub and into the warmth of his chest.  And you let yourself smother within the fabric of his shirt the same exact way in which you’ve convinced yourself you smother everyone around you, let yourself breathe in drugstore cologne and his last cigarette rather than think about all the thoughts that had been spiraling you into dismay over the last twenty four hours – over the last twenty four years. 

He’d probably been smoking while waiting on your call tonight. Probably riddled with anxiety, if the shake of his hands pressing into your back are anything to go off of. An anxiety and waiting game that wouldn’t have to exist if you didn’t exist.

The thought makes you cry harder. 

If a ghost dies, can it even still return back as itself? Can it still find it within itself to haunt empty hallways, and watch the ones it once loved find peace?

“You’re not useless,” it sounds as though Eddie might be crying as well, if not just a little choked up, “You’re not- I swear- You’re not useless, okay? Never have been, never will be.”

His murmured words are nice, but they fuel an unimaginable guilt. It was supposed to be a nice night. A night of movie marathons and midnight coffee, of trying to remind yourself why you still stick around. A moment of incomparable joy and sweet reprieve as your stomach ached from laughter, your cheeks swelling with an infallible grin that Eddie always seems to pull out of you.

There’s no smiling, no giggling, right now. Just his favorite band shirt from the show you two had attended a few years before, soaking with a fast-growing stain from all your tears. 

When you don’t answer him, only manage to wrap your selfish arms around his waist, he continues, “How long have you felt this way, sweetheart?”

And if you hadn’t already been shattered previously, that would have finally broken you. 

You can’t pinpoint when it started. You can’t clear the smoke of memories and find an exact moment that you can point to and say, there. That’s where the hurt starts — that’s where the rot starts. 

“I don’t know.”

In your mind, it’s a wail. Loud and ferocious, efforts of all it has taken to withstand the pressure of your undoing screamed out loud. 

But on this quiet bathroom floor, it can’t even be considered a whisper. Nothing more than the spoken words lingering from a ghost who can’t give up the haunt. An echo of a memory, an echo of the piece in you that can’t let go, not yet.

Not of existing, and not of him. Your fists hold him so firmly against you, you’re scared that you’re going to bruise him. Hurt him just from the sheer effort of trying to show that you love him. 

The only way you know how to love – a violent dog who will always bite the kindest hands. Leaving behind bloodied knuckles even if you hadn’t so much as snipped this time. 

You take a sharp breath, aware of the levity of the words you’re about to say, “I don’t want to exist anymore, but I wouldn’t even make it off the bridge if I tried.”

It’s not about the bridge anymore. In all likelihood, it wouldn’t be the bridge you turn to. There’s a grand metaphor somewhere in the admittance, but your mind is just too tired to try and paint a prettier picture of it for him. 

Because exist is just a placeholder. And there’s a bigger, scarier word that should stand in its place. 

He starts to break the hold, and you nearly sob out again just at that. Losing the warmth of his chest and arms strike pain somewhere deep within you, just north of the pit that’s devoured all that’s left of you. 

“Bridge?” Phrased as a clarifying question, but when you see his face, it’s clear he knows. There are no good words left to say about it, “Sweetheart, no.”

There are worse reactions to be had. More scenarios that end in slamming doors or deafening silent treatments. Realizations that you’re right and it’s not worth it – defense mechanisms that involve them leaving first. 

“I couldn’t do it, even if I want-” 

Even if I wanted to. The words you can’t speak, dying on your tongue. 

Do you want to? Where does the pain begin? And where could it end?

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he laughs humorlessly, his hands still gripping your biceps in a death hold, “You… you just…” 

He doesn’t know what to say, and you don’t blame him. You knew this was heavy; you knew this isn’t the type of bomb to drop on someone you love. 

But if you didn’t, where would the bomb have gone? You’re not equipped to detonate it. You’re not equipped to survive the explosion. You wouldn’t want to survive that explosion. 

“I’m sorry,” your words pour out, beginning to shake beneath his palms, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Dry, cracked lips feel as though they nearly split from the apologies. More violence, more devastation, more of what you always knew you were. You can see it in his eyes – you’re dragging him down with you, right down to the bottom of the ocean. You’re being an anchor. 

He’s all stutters and harsh breaths, panic filling the space with your own as his eyes search yours, “Don’t apologize. You don’t have to apologize. Just-”

He cuts off and is pulling you close again. Slamming your bones into his, wrapping up around you as if he might be able to keep you safe from the world. From your own mind. 

“I don’t need apologies,” another squeeze of your closer to him, another attempt to pull you away from the dangers that lie within, “I don’t- I just… Can I help? How do I make it better? Just say the word. I’ll do it.” 

It’s not your job. That’s not your job. 

You don’t realize you’ve said the words out loud until he’s squeezing you so tightly that you now can’t breathe. Until all you are is him. All his old t-shirts he’s lent to you that hang in your closet, all the nights spent with tangled legs as you sit across from each other on your couch, all the phone calls in which he refused to be the first one to hang up. Cologne that is too cheap to be able to cling so ferociously as it does to all your surroundings, chain-smoked cigarettes you always chastise him for because they’re gonna kill you one day, the smoke of his latest blunt resting in an ashtray as his head finds home in your lap. 

All the inside jokes. All the hugs. All the simple texts, if for nothing more than to just check in on each other. The broken reminders of having someone out there that cares. That loves you. 

How can such rotten hands pull such love from others? How have you yet to infect him? 

“I know it’s not my job,” he finally says, and you know for a fact he’s crying along with you before the first of his tears have wet the crown of your head, “It’s never been a job. You’re not a job. Okay? Get that through your head. There’s- Fuck, there’s plenty of things I wanna drill in that pretty little head of yours right now, but I know I can’t, so just get that.”

He’s trying. A little trill of his tongue that falls a bit flat when he refers to your pretty little head, a brief squeeze of your shoulders as he tries to relax a little. He wants to make you feel better. He wants to make it better. 

But he’s still holding you like he’s terrified. You did that – you instilled that fear. 

“I’m a mess,” you whisper in bitter realization, ash on your tongue as you process what you’ve done. You’ve already apologized, but you’re seconds away from doing so again, “I’m- I’m a mess, and I’m dragging you into it, and I’m sor-”

“Stop being sorry.” Definitive words, no room for argument. The smallest of shifts as things click into place. He isn’t budging – he isn’t letting go, “Do you remember when I first met you?” 

You can’t tell if the question is meant to have a point, or if it’s meant to be a distraction. You let it grow into the latter.

“Yeah,” you breathe out against him, melting into his chest, trying to focus on his voice rather than the ones in your head, “But tell me about it anyway?” 

“Two years ago. Technically, two years and seven months,” he starts in the same voice he used to take on during Hellfire sessions, before the members had scattered from coast to coast and his D&D club only became a rarity when the stars aligned. There’s still a crack to his voice from his tears, but that doesn’t stop him, “We were in some cursed fucking diner we don’t even go to anymore, in the dead of the night, and all the servers knew your name and order,” he paints the picture with a humor that should feel out of place, but it settles some of your breathing. Omitting all the vivid details, opting for triggering the memory with words you’d just get. You can feel the stick of the plastic beneath your thighs, you can smell the grease of the kitchen. You can see the cloudy night out of the oversized windows. He’s a natural born storyteller in the most subtle of ways, always knowing his audience, “You were sitting all alone in that booth, and all of Hellfire had just left. Gareth had just told us how he was going to college in California – did you know that?” 

“I didn’t.” 

“Well, he did,” his chin presses against the top of your head, a huff of a laugh escaping him, “Dropped the bomb it was our last summer as a club probably. We were happy for him, though. Real fucking happy. Got milkshakes to celebrate and made plans to get drunk off our asses the next night to keep the party going. It was dumb, and I’m getting off track, but…” 

Baited breath, you’re waiting for him to continue. No thoughts of the bridge. No thoughts of your failures. Living in a small memory with him on the floor of your bathroom. 

“Anyways, you were sitting there all alone, with a plate of fries and ranch.” 

“Oh, God,” your nose scrunches and you try to pull away, suddenly remembering how embarrassing this memory ends for you. It suddenly didn’t seem like the best way for him to make you feel better by any means, “No, I remember how this story ends, and-”

“I’m not done,” he locks his arms around you, and you can feel the whisper of a smile as it brushes against your temple, “Obviously you know where I’m going with this, but I’m not done, sweetheart. Because all the other guys had just left, and I’m sitting there, realizing the only other customer was some random person over across the diner, scribbling away in some notebook. Thought you looked cute when you were all focused like that, y’know? But then you were so focused that it became distracted, and you spilled that ranch all over yours-” 

“Please, stop.”

You’re laughing through the words, weakly, the air of desperation in the word please being far different from earlier in the night. No bridges, no failures. 

“I was probably being a weirdo, trying to run over and help you or whatever the fuck I was trying to do. I probably made it worse, right?” 

You’re there, remembering a version of Eddie that was a stranger, taking napkins to the knees of your jeans and smearing the ranch rather than really helping you clean it up. “Yeah, just a little bit.” 

“Sorry for that, by the way,” he airily apologizes before continuing, “But I just remember thinking about how focused you were on that notebook. And how you laughed with the waiter. And how you were just… lost in your own little world. And how you were so cute. You were so nice. The type of person I wanted in my life. Took one look at you with that ranch all over your lap and thought, huh. I want to get to know that person.” 

“Nice? I was not nice, I was-” you cut off, heart all but stopping as you recognize the point of it all. It wasn’t meant to just be a distraction. He was making a point. “I was a… a mess that day.” 

“Exactly.”

He pulls away again, and this time, it’s a little easier. The world has put a pause on its ending and you can handle the weight of his arms lightening for a few seconds, just so he can get a good look at your face. 

“You were a mess the day that I met you, and I still wanted you in my life,” he says each word deliberately, not breaking eye contact. Fear has broken through to determination. “And even if you’re still a mess today, I still want you. Nothing changes. You get that?” 

No bridges.

No failures.

The weight of it all had been heavy. The type of sorrow you thought was never meant to be carried by more than your own two hands. But he had taken it in his palms, lifted it from you entirely, even if it would only be temporary. One day you’d have to endure the pain again, get to the root of the problem. Figure out if all your ailments had been something wired into you since birth, or things you’d picked up along your way. But for now, you could breathe again. You could hear the drumming of your heart in your ears, and you could hear every single one of both yours and Eddie’s breaths in the silence, and that was enough. 

“I don’t want to die,” you finally quietly admit. Saying one of the bigger, scarier words. The thing you’d been too afraid to let slip off your tongue originally. “I just- sometimes it all gets a bit loud, you know? And I know you said don’t apologize, but I am sorry that I scared you. And I’m sorry that you have to take the bad to also get that little bit of the good with me.” 

His hand leaves one of your arms for the first time since he’d first wrapped you up, and it finds its way to cradle the side of your head. Holding you as if you’re porcelain still. You know that won’t go away, not tonight. “I’d rather have your bad days than have nothing at all,” he chokes up once more, and you can see tears threatening to welt in his eyes, “You get that, too. Alright? You’re worth it. Bad, good, funny, sad – give it to me. I’m asking for it. Just don’t… don’t leave me with the nothing.”

You’re worth it. 

He’s found a worth in you attached to nothing at all. He’s sitting here with you, on the bathroom floor, and his perception of you has nothing to do with what you can only offer. 

It just has to do with you. He sees you, and he’s decided you’re worth it. Even now.

He smiles softly, as if he can see the realization dawning upon you, “You wanna get up off the floor now? We can go sit on your couch or bed or something.” 

You’re quick to shake your head. Your knees are partially digging into his thighs, your breaths are matching his. 

“Okay,” his face falls slightly, but not entirely. Not entirely, “That’s okay. Do you want me…. Do you want me to go?” 

Another shake of your head. But this time, you need to offer more than just the motion of your head, especially when you can feel tears returning as your throat tightens up, “No. No, just- Stay with me? Please?” 

Your hands reach out without you even processing it, gripping his wrists, desperate and clinging and still verging on the edge of violent. The thought of being alone is terrifying, but the thought of having to watch him walk out of this room is even more petrifying. 

He doesn’t even flinch as you sink your claws in. His smile only returns, and he shuffles to pull you both to hold your backs up against the wall across from the toilet, “Of course. I’ll stay, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere – wouldn’t even dream of it.” 

His words shake just a little less than they had when he’d first entered the room. 

He can’t fix it all magically. That isn’t his job, isn’t his role, isn’t his choice. But he can sit here with you, on the floor of the bathroom, endlessly patient and tragically caring as he urges you to lay down. He stretches his legs out and pats his lap once before hovering his hands over your shoulder, guiding you until your temple is flush with his thigh. 

He can choose to not hesitate as his fingers immediately push through the baby hairs by your temple, a soft hum in the back of his throat that sounds exactly as you feel.

Hesitantly content. Just for now. It’s enough. 

The storm is receding. As hours pass by, and noises of uncertainty become more confident hums of a song you faintly recognize, it all settles. He stays. You stay. The storm passes for the time being, and the hole tempers itself for just the night. 

It’s enough for now. You’ll worry more tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. You’ll talk more about why you feel this way, and he’ll offer better solutions. The weight won’t simply be passed into his waiting hands and forgotten – one day, you’ll find a way to lighten it through dissipation rather than through catastrophe. 

One day, the seas will calm, and you’ll find yourself the ship rather than the anchor. 

And the captain can be the boy who sits on the floor with you through the sadness, content to wait out the storms with you until you find the worth he sees in you.

[maritotoy]

MAUGA X Support/Medic Reader ((Part. 1))

NOTE: Believe it or not, I never realize how long I've written this one.

This narrative tracks Mauga's obsession with Y/N as it grows to the point where he is prepared to kill everyone who stands in his way. With this in mind, Mauga's commitment would gradually grow. He would start out softly and then this need on you would get stronger.

It all began when your talents were initially utilised for recruitment. You were a terrific help, willing to assist your teammates in whatever way they needed.

Your main issue was that you could never truly let them handle things on their own. As a result, it became increasingly difficult to care for yourself.

They promised you riches if you helped them fight back against their threat. There were only so many ways to profit from rival worlds, after all. You were aware that you were going into a whole new universe when you agreed, but you also felt that you had no choice but to accept them.

Ultimately, you didn't wish to pass away, did you?

It was stated to you when you first joined TALON Organization, that you should concentrate only on the battlefield. Up until you met Baptiste, an exceptional combat medic, it was great with you. Your shared enthusiasm for curing illness is what unites the two of you. It turned into a shared passion. As you try to acquire experience in several areas, like medical supplies, you both hope to discover some more useful abilities, like healing or even a unique kind of combat capability.

But you can hardly ever get to Baptiste, he's constantly at the top. Both a combat mercenary and medic. You're always looking for ways to sharpen your skills.

Even after meeting him again at your base and on missions, you are still determined to improve your ability to deal with any possible emergencies. Not until later do you find out what happens when a member of your unit gets injured.

Baptiste surged in, carrying an imposing stature and a solid, muscular frame. His voice sounded desperate, asking, "I'm sorry if I came to you! I know you are busy, but I need help with my friend, please, Y/N!" The urgency was so obvious that there wasn't much resistance. Even if he was a doctor himself, it must have seemed urgent enough.

Besides... You were in the right place to help.

You rushed over to his side and helped him stabilize his huge friend. "What happened, Bap? Are you hurt?" He didn't reply, but his eyes told you all you needed to know.

You fix your sight on his pal. He does not appear to be hurt or seriously damage. However, the man's body is completely soaked, which looks very suspicious to you. "Is he alright, Bap? I don't see anything wrong." He shook his head and gave a sigh.

"We were attacked. Mauga and I found the source of the enemy attack and got separated."

"How long has it been since then?"

"Four hours, maybe five."

"Do you have any idea of what may have caused the damage?"

"I'm not sure. However, I had already discovered him unconscious but unharmed on the ground. It should not take long for him to awaken.." You glance at the unconscious man again before you say, "Let me take a look at him." He nodded and stepped aside.

"Mauga could never be wounded by shots like that. Despite his size, he could easily absorb one hit thanks to his physique." He explains.

You crouch down and check on his comrade. He seems fine to you. There's nothing unusual about him, other than the fact that he's a bit too heavy.

You knew Mauga.

And with such.

You just don't know how to engage with him.

On a conversation? Yes. Your profession is your duty.

You don’t really get along with those who rely solely on themselves as an advantage, even though you respect their abilities.

The feeling is mutual. Every time someone gets hurt because of something beyond their control, you are there to help them.

Because that's your job as a medic.

You both have quite a difference in interests, though. You can't stand the fact that he’s so reckless, you can't understand why he doesn't think more carefully before he acts. As soon as he sees blood, it's always the most important thing.

Mauga stands tall, towering over his opponents with an impressive height of 7'5 ft tall. (My headcanon)

Mauga is a formidable opponent on the front lines thanks to his strong, muscular physique. His broad shoulders and thick neck gives off an air of strength and power, and his body is well-built, demonstrating his strength and capacity to deal severe damage to rivals.

Did I mention he has two hearts?

Unlike you, Mauga is a ruthless and cunning individual, driven by his own motivations. He never lets anyone interfere with his goals, whether or not they involve you. While he might act with reckless disregard sometimes, he is also able to calculate the best course of action.

Not anyone knows this. But you knew nontheless with Baptiste.

You may be underestimating him in some way, or you may have witnessed the genuine thing, up close and personal, but he always brags about his achievements without hesitation or shame. His fighting style turns wild and unpredictable when he fights. If Mauga doesn't want to win, he will take his time, before using ChaCha and Gunny, his chainguns, to grab the victory, and he won't give up until he achieves his objective.

He definitely is careless, isn't he?

"He's breathing just fine, Baptiste. I would say he is in perfect health, aside from the injuries, I can't detect any signs of any damage injuries either." You said as you stood up. Baptiste sighs relief. "I'll leave him to you doctor. Don't worry, I trust that you have everything under control." He says this to you while nodding in satisfaction.

This gesture of his is a way of gratitude towards the medic's work.

"I will be back later," he says as he leaves to make a round to prepare for battle.

While Baptiste was gone, you sat next to the downed mercenary soldier and begin to observe him. In the midst of his unconsciousness, he seems to be in a good state. There was no sign of discomfort or pain. His pulses are fast but steady, knowing that Mauga have two hearts, one that allowed him to replace his damaged, organic heart with a cybernetic one. That way, his heart will beat twice as fast. You can easily tell that Mauga is in his natural state.

Your eyes began to feel heavy after observing him for some time. You weren't sure if it's due to fatigue from watching him, or simply exhaustion from your duties as a medic.

Before you knew it, you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you find yourself staring back into the face of Maugaloa Malosi, whose lips formed into those flashing, same pasted smile as usual. “Ah, Doctor. How nice to see you again.”

You quickly wake up, sitting straight up on the chair. “M-Mauga!" You exclaimed, alarmed. "H-How is you- I mean are you feeling alright?”

He grinned at you. “I am feeling rather fine.” You let out a long, sigh of relief. However, you didn't anticipate that this would happen frequently. “I see..." You replied.

Silence takes over for a while. Mauga stared at you intensely before taking a step forward. “Your Y/N, correct? Baptiste little assistant. I've heard much about you, but never expect that I would get to get treated from you.”

You flinched slightly at his words 'assistant' and the word 'little', but you remained calm. “I'm glad that you feel better now. You should rest and recover. If you still need them..."

“I appreciate the concern,” he says as he reaches towards your shoulder. You instinctively raise your hands in preparation of blocking. This caught him off guard, causing him to pause in his movements, then booms laughing.

“My apologies, Teuila. I thought that you might have forgotten what I do here,” he said in that familiar, friendly tone.

“If I recall correctly, I haven't given you permission to touch me.” This comment caught him off guard as he chuckles deeply.

He stares at your hand for a while longer. You're beginning to become worried. After a brief silence, he reaches forward and lightly holds onto your wrist.

“That’s a very sensitive spot…” He whispers gently. Your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “And your pulse is fast. Is this normal?” he asks. “Yes,” you respond in a soft voice.

“Then why are you afraid? You know I'm not going to hurt you...” He grinned. His sharp teeth glinted menacingly in the dim light. "Surely you've already made a friend? You also gave him a lot of attention than you do with me. Or have you grown to dislike me?"

"...I... I beg your pardon-" your speech is interrupted by Baptiste with a tired expression.

"Hey... Sorry that I took so long. I went to gather supplies. Mission was a success." He sighed in relief as he approached you.

"Mauga, I'm glad your awake bud." Baptiste sighs in relief and smiles at Mauga. Mauga returned the gesture before looking back at you.

He still has that huge grin plastered across his features while his eyes darted towards yours. "You're crazy out there Mauga. Do you really think that you can defeat the enemies single handedly?" Baptiste says with a chuckle. “You know me Baptiste, I never do things without planning them out.” He grinned, revealing that row of dazzlingly white teeth. “I still don't understand how you've been knocked down so easily. It's hard to believe that you can be beaten like that.” Baptiste gives a half smirk, half frown.

You listen to their conversation, and you try to make sense of it. Mauga laughs at the situation, as if it's all so obvious. "C'mon, Baptiste, we have bigger problems than me right now. The mission is a success because we finally found the enemy camp. But it was a close call, and we needed your medical expertise to treat the wounded," Mauga explains to Baptiste while looking directly into his eyes with a sly smile. "I carried your massive ass in this camp with support of your weight alone. You ought to be pleased to have a subordinate with such skill." Baptiste smirks. He was referring to you. Mauga laughs at his friend's criticism, displaying his amusement at the circumstances.

"So yeah. It was pretty rough, but we managed to secure the objective! Isn't that great news?"

It's not really a surprise to you.

Mauga does tend to put himself in danger, especially when he's in an unfamiliar place.

This guy is completely reckless, which is why you can't believe that he managed to survive so many battles without falling apart or breaking down.

"Your a loose-canon, but I hope ended well..." you say calmly, hoping that you sound convincing enough.

"I can assure that I have the highest respect and admiration for your abilities as a medic. I would never doubt your skills, even if I hadn't personally experience how skilled you are in dealing with wounds." Mauga comments, he sounds sincere as ever.

Baptiste grins again. "That's a big ego of yours, my friend. You should consider giving a few compliments to the people who did more than you."

"I would love to, my friend, but there's nothing wrong with being modest about our accomplishments."

"Alright," Baptiste said, sounding annoyed.

--------

After several hours, days, months of treating your patients at base. You cannot help but wonder seeing Mauga quite often, whether that is purely because of duty or something else. Although it is difficult to tell what he's thinking, there are moments where you notice the way that he is constantly staring at you. Like he's trying to figure out something about you:

studying your appearance, facial expressions, mannerisms. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes he appears to be lost in his own world, occasionally, you could catch him smirking knowingly, or even smiling to himself. These small gestures usually only occur during times when it's with you with him. Sometimes, the man is just too cheerful, or too energetic in general.

You could hardly handle the stress of handling all these patients in the infirmary on your own. You're starting to miss having Baptiste around to keep him occupied while you go through patients. You sighed loudly not until Mauga appears behind you

You found him with wounds on his chest and torso. You turn to look at him, "What happened?"

"Nothing serious..." He grins, showing his sharpened teeth.

"Just a minor injury, eh?" You raise an eyebrow at the mercenary, crossing your arms over your chest. Mauga simply shrugs as he sits on a table.

There was another period of silence between you two, and the atmosphere seemed to tense up considerably. This time, it's you who breaks the silence. "I'm sorry that you got injured. I don't know how I should react seeing someone else getting hurt so casually. You could have died out there. And that's not the worst thing that can happen," you said sarcastically and sternly.

He chuckles. "Oh really? Tell me more." He leans closer to your face, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Ah. So that's how it is."

You glare at him angrily, but he ignores you as you continue working. "Are you seriously going to mock me for worrying about you?"

"Not at all," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "But there is one thing that concerns me."

"What? You're going to insult me too, aren't you?" Mauga laughs while Y/N tends his injury.

The felt of your touch sends shivers throughout his entire body. He tries hard to suppress the sudden urge to grab her hand and hold on tightly. It's becoming harder to control these urges though. He shakes his head rapidly as he pulls away from you. He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I'm not mocking you, you know?"

Your gaze flicks briefly to his. "Hm."

There was a short silence between you two, until you began to clean a cut on one of his legs. You noticed his gaze follow every movement of your fingers. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't ask questions so frequently, Teuila."

"Teuila?" You face him. "You know, I never asked you of this... But why do you call me that?" He lets out a deep chuckle and replies. "Because you look like Teuila. It fits well, doesn't it?" He flashes you a warm smile before turning his head away again.

You shrugged of his answer, continuing your work without saying anything further, although you were extremely curious. "Teuila... What does that word mean?" There's a brief moment of silence in between the two of you once you finished cleaning up the blood staining his leg. A faint smile plays across his lips again. "I thought you were better than that."

"And you think that you're better than me?"

"Yeah," he replies smugly.

"Then... You've obviously underestimated me, don't you?" You give him a challenging smirk. He returns the smile with a smirk of his own, but he then turns serious again. His eyes narrow. "Let me enlighten you. That name means 'flower'. Do you understand what kind of flower it means?"

You gave him a blank stare. He continues to smirk, waiting for you to understand his meaning. Eventually, you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. "Do I look like I care to know?" You scoff, rolling your eyes lightly.

Mauga laughs. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what you think of it..."

There was silence between you two for a few seconds, and you looked away with furrowed brows.

You finish patching up the mercenary, placing some bandages around him and securing them securely. "Now that I finished helping you, you're dismissed." You professionaly said after you made sure that everything was covered properly. Mauga laughs at this. "Really? Now? Just like that?" He asks mockingly.

"Yes Mauga, I don't have any other duties besides tending to your wounds. I've been doing that for quite some time now," you responded coldly.

Mauga raises an eyebrow at this. "You know, if you start beginning to care about those wounds, you might find yourself losing them. If you want me to leave your clinic quickly, then you'll have to earn my trust first, which requires some work."

You sigh heavily. Of course Mauga will insist on making things difficult for you. "I am no doctor Mauga, I cannot cure your injuries." You sarcasticly said.

"Oh I know that. But you're still willing to take the risk." He chuckled.

"You wouldn't had to waste precious time coming here in order to talk shit."

Mauga laughs at you again, grinning like a cat that ate the canary. "I wouldn't waste too much time coming here either, but I also wouldn't be able to enjoy it quite as much because you'll be gone by then," he says confidently. "Besides, you're not exactly known for your patience." You roll your eyes, turning back to the table in front of you.

"You know I've always wondered what it feels like to be your patient," Mauga mused. "To be the one receiving the attention of the most skilled medic in your battalion."

"You must be joking," you replied, you know what he meant, not wanting to think that you would ever become his patient.

"No. You know me... " He grins. You groaned. "Don't' make such assumptions, we don't know each other all that well yet."

"Yet..."

You glared at him as he laughed. "Whatever. It seems like there's no stopping you, is there? We haven't even officially met yet, and already you're acting as if you have a good relationship with me." You sighed exasperatedly, massaging the area of your forehead in irritation.

"Listen, Mauga. My job is simple, I care for my patients and treat them well. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm different," he said cockily.

"How? Are you not afraid of dying?"

"No... No I'm not... I've done so much more reckless things than death." His expression suddenly shifted to an emotionless one. For a moment, it felt almost as if he wasn't looking at you anymore. Then he chuckled softly, giving you a playful wink. "But I'm no saint."

"It must be hard to admit being human." You shook your head slightly.

"Sometimes." His grin returned to his features.

You couldn't help but stare directly into his eyes for a little longer, taking in how dark they actually are.

Mauga shows a huge plastered face. His still wearing his dumb smile.

You blinked at him.

He blinked back.

You rolled your eyes. "Stop smiling so much." He continued to laugh, as you turned away from him again. Mauga stood up and stretched lazily, "I have something to attend to, I'll be seeing you later," Mauga teasingly said as he made his way towards the door. He opens it, but he glances back.

A small smirk forms on his lips.

You watch him disappear outside the door, closing it behind him with a click. Once the door closes you let out a heavy sigh, resting your back against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing a mile, a minute, both at the prospect of having finally been alone with Mauga again, and the strange feeling within you after you spent several hours alone with him.

This feeling...

It's definitely not normal.

End of part 1

Part 2- ???

[beep-beep-sunny]

I added two new chapters to My Daddy Likes Boys a fic about Eddie Kaspbrak's son trying to get him together with his teacher, Mr. Tozier.

Read on ao3 or below!

Chapter 1: Two daddies?? Cool!

My daddy likes boys. I don't know why that's such a big deal. I'm not a dummy. I understand that they don't mean he likes boys just as friends like me and Hank from my class. Otherwise, mommy and daddy wouldn't have broked up. I get it. It's about in love. Like Aladdin and Jasmine. They aren't both boys, but that's okay. I'm sure there are other examples of boys I'm just not thinking of.

Mommy already sees other boys. Daddy comes to watch me when she goes on her "dates" and we watch Bluey on TV or play hungry hungry hippos. Daddy is great at games, but I'm better because I always win. Still, daddy deserves to play games with someone he can beat. Someone he can go on "dates" with. Maybe on a magic carpet. Daddy likes cars, and that's a very cool and special kinda car. I wanna ride on one. Maybe if daddy's boyfriend has a magic carpet I can ride in the backseat and fly up high. That would be cool. That would be super cool.

I started kindergarten in the Fall. I'm in Mr. Tozier's class. He wears funny, colorful shirts and does voices that make me laugh a lot. When we learned about animals he made all the sounds. My favorite was when he made the goose sound. Mr. Tozier is the coolest.

And a boy.

And daddy likes boys.

Then I had an idea. My daddy and Mr. Tozier could be in love! That's a great perfect idea. I just needed to find a way to get daddy and Mr. Tozier to talk. When they talked they would obviously instantly fall in love because they are both awesome and fun and they both love me. It would be the greatest thing to have two daddies!!

I started small. Daddy tells me every day that I'm brave and I decided to prove it. I made sure Mr. Tozier was close and I climbed up higher in the jungle gym than I had ever climbed. The other kids watched and some waved and giggled. By the time Mr. Tozier noticed how high I climbed and started running towards me, it was too late. I bent my knees like a frog. Mr. Tozier saying ribbit ribbit popping into my head as I hopped off the roof (where I definitely wasn't supposed to be) and fell hard onto the ground.

Plop

I yelled and yelled and yelled some more. How was I supposed to know it would hurt THAT much. Mr. Tozier reached me quickly with his kind blue eyes twisted up in worry. "Frankie!" He yelped. "How'd you even get up there?" He was concerned, but I couldn't help but notice he also sounded impressed. This was going perfectly according to plan even though my arm hurt a whole lot.

Mr. Tozier carried me to the nurse's office. "I'm gonna call your parents, okay? Just sit tight buddy." I made a froggy sound and his worry melted away just long enough to do an, admittedly much better, froggy sound.

He rushed out the door. Oh no. "Call my daddy!" I shouted after him, hoping it was loud enough. My voice was usually louder, but my arm hurt too much! I waited to let my tears fall down my cheeks for after Mr. Tozier left. He probably thought I was very brave. Mr. Tozier and daddy will talk about how brave I am all day long until they fall in love.

Daddy didn't come. Mr. Tozier must not have heard me. When I saw mommy come through the door with her arms stretched out like she was ready to clean my dirty cheek with her spit, I cringed a bit and then started crying. This time it wasn't from the pain. Well, it wasn't just from the pain. This was going to be harder than I thought.

Chapter 2: Frankie's Big Break

had a lot of time to plan my next move while I was at the doctor then at home. My arm was broken and got put in a huge cast. It's so hard and heavy. I drummed on the wall with it when mommy wasn't looking, she always told me to stop even though it made the best sound.

That made me think of my next idea. I couldn't keep getting hurt and going right to the hospital. I'd be off too much school and all my bones would be in casts until I couldn't move. I can't make Mr. Tozier and my daddy fall in love like that! I need at least one limb free!

When I got back to school, all the kids wanted to talk to me and sign my cast. I noted that I'd let Hank sign it first, after I talked to Mr. Tozier. Unless Mr. Tozier wanted to sign it first. Then he could. Sorry Hank.

Mr. Tozier sat at a big desk with papers all over the top. I could just see over it. He looked down at me, looking over his big thick glasses. He must have a really hard time seeing with glasses that big. My eyes are perfect, everyone says so, but daddy probably doesn't care about perfect eyes. I tried to focus.

“Frankie?” Mr. Tozier said. “What is it?”

“Next time I get in trouble, can you call my daddy instead of my mommy?” I said. I thought if I was as obvious as possible that he would definitely get it right next time.

Mr. Tozier's brow furrowed. “Well, you weren't in trouble, Frankie, but why do you want me to call your daddy? Is something going on at home?”

I really thought about it. No, not really. Home has been kinda boring. Daddy always looks sad when I'm with him, but mommy always has boys around all the time. I just want my daddy to be happy too. Not with lots of boys though, just Mr. Tozier. I didn't like getting used to lots and lots of new boys because some of them smell funny and have weird mustaches.

“Frankie?” Mr. Tozier asked. Oops, I'd been thinking too much.

“No.” I said quickly and walked away. I didn't even remember to ask him to sign my cast. I guess Hank could do it first after all.

After all the kids got done signing my cast with lots of cool things, Hank drew a dinosaur, I went to work. I knew daddy would definitely come if I was in danger, but it didn't work the first time. I decided I had to do something different. I had to get in trouble.

It happened at recess. Mr. Tozier was watching everybody, but I wanted to make sure he was watching me. I took a big breath in and let out a loud scream. Mr. Tozier looked up but so did everybody else. I'd have to explain why I was doing it to all my lots of friends later. They'd understand. With all my might, I pushed over the big wood play kitchen and all the kids playing house ran away. The play plates hit the ground over and over one at a time. It sounded like rain.

Mr. Tozier rushed over. Yay! “Is everyone okay?” The other kids nodded. When he looked at me, he didn't look mad. He looked worried. That made me worried too.

He took me to the place I go to when I get off my bus and had me sit in the big plush chair. Once he was in the other room, I got up and pressed my ear to the door. He was talking to somebody. I think on the phone.

“I think something might be going on at home.” Mr Tozier said. I sighed. Not really. Just call my daddy. Say I'm in big trouble. “Oh, a divorce? That's gotta be tough on him.” It wasn't tough at all! What was tough was getting my daddy and Mr. Tozier in one room. Ugh!

Chapter 3: Why Does Everybody Ask if I'm Okay??

How was I supposed to know they'd just make me talk to some lady? That is not what I wanted at all.

“Frankie,” She said gently like she was talking to a puppy. I'm not a puppy. “Can you please tell me how things have been at home?”

“Why does everybody keep asking me that!” I knew it wasn't polite to shout, but I was getting so frustrated! “Sorry, things are just fine. I'm happy.”

Even though I told her I'm happy she still looked sad. What was going on? “Are you happy when you're with your mommy?”

I felt a big frown on my face. “Yeah, I guess!” I folded my arms. Things were fine. Mommy was just kind of boring sometimes. She just wanted me to dress up nice and be polite. I was so sick of always being so polite.

“What about your daddy?” She asked.

I smiled. “Well, daddy is the best. We play games and watch TV but he's lonely and needs a boyfriend like my mommy has.”

The lady's eyebrows raised up like they were gonna bump into her hair. “A boyfriend?” She asked. “Maybe you mean a girlfriend.”

I rolled my eyes. “No! My daddy likes boys!’’

Talking to that lady was so pointless. She didn't even help me with how to get Mr. Tozier and my daddy together. I hoped I never had to see that lady ever again.

My mommy drove me home and fussed with my hair when she buckled me in. “What did you say to the nice lady?” She asked me.

“I told her daddy likes boys.” I explained, getting a little tired of always having to explain myself.

Mommy's eyebrows did the same thing as the lady. It's a little silly for her to be surprised. I knew she knew that already. She didn't say much else. She just got in the front seat and drove us home.

When Daddy came to pick me up the next day, I was so excited. It was the weekend and Daddy always planned a fun activity. I wanted to see the new Sonic movie and get lots of popcorn.

It was taking mommy and daddy a really long time to come get me in my room, so I hopped off my bed and sat on the top of the stairs looking down at them through the bars. They looked upset. They had angry eyebrows and folded up arms.

“You told him about your little perversion?” Mommy said. I didn't know what that meant, but what did daddy tell me about? Maybe about the big black cats at the zoo.

Daddy held up his hands. “No, I didn't tell him anything about that. I don't know how he found out.” Maybe not about the big cats after all.

“Well, tell him you don't. Tell him you like women like you're supposed to.” I opened my eyes really wide. Was this about daddy liking boys? What's the big deal! Mommy likes boys too!

“Daddy can like boys if he wants to!” I ran down the stairs to stand up tall next to daddy.

They both looked down at me with their mouths hanging open. Close your mouths, gosh! “It's not normal.” Mommy said in a calm voice. I was so sick of people talking to me like a puppy or a baby or something.

I held out my hand. “Daddy, I wanna go.” I didn't feel like talking about this. I had important things to do.

Daddy looked down at me, surprised. Mommy looked mad. They looked at each other for a few seconds before daddy grabbed my hand and we started walking out. I smiled wide.

“Wait!” Mommy called after us, but we didn't stop or look back.

We were gonna have a wonderful, awesome time watching Sonic and eating popcorn and then after that I would think about my next plan. Daddy and Mr. Tozier were gonna be happy if it was the last thing I did!

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 34 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 35

Summary : Loki meets the ancient one and she has all the answers for you both.

Warning: 18+,, HUGE Canon divergence (Just me making shit up), timey wimey stuff topics dealing with cheating and falling out of love,

You were at the hospital to see Mrs Geller but you were early so visiting hours weren't open just yet. You missed Loki, you hadn't seen him since the night of your birthday, which to be fair was just two days ago but you felt extremely anxious because of everything that has been happening.

Your mom had called you this morning to tell you that she had hurt her legs while working out and as soon as she had told you that you knew somehow it was connected to you.

Loki had told you that he would find the answers about all these glitches in time but you feared those answers would turn your world upside down again.

All those thoughts running in your head were starting to give you a headache so you got up and made your way to the staff area to grab a cup of coffee, luckily for you it was empty.

"You be like baby who cares, i know you care, bring it over to my place i don't know what you did–" you stopped singing to yourself as you felt a presence behind you so you turned around. It was Doctor Mark. Ofcourse.

"That's for staff members you know that right?" He asked you and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes,

"I know but ..it's just coffee you know?"

He shook his head in response and walked towards the machine to pour one for himself,

"How's she doing now?" You asked him so he sighed deeply as if your mere presence was irksome to him. Why were you meeting all these assholes doctors, at first Strange and now him.

"Same as before, she's stable but there's no improvement" he told you so you nodded

"But she'll be okay right?"

He turned his head to look at you as you asked him again, he seemed soft and sympathetic for once, he also seemed as if he knew she won't recover from this.

"What was that song you were singing just now?" he asked you to change the subject so you chuckled in response..

"It's under the influence by Chris Brown"

"The what?" He looked at you a bit surprised so you told him again, this time enunciating each and every word carefully.

"Don't think i have heard of it" he shrugged as he said that so you crossed your arms.

"That's fine i have not heard all the songs in the universe" you chuckled, however it wasn't from amusement but barely annoyance.

"I operated on that man once..we stayed in touch, that's not his song..I'd have known since he keeps sending me his tracks"

He said in a nonchalant manner so you squinted your eyes.

"Well that's nothing..i ..I work for loki..a literal god"

"Yeah what do you do for him?"

"I'm his assistant "

"If he's such a god why would he need an assistant"

"Because he does .." you walked out of there to save face after that. Why was he so annoying? And what did he mean when he said that song didn't exist? You heard it in the last timeline, that was the song you played as you both got high that night. You quickly took your phone out and searched for the song but you didn't find it anywhere..it didn't exist, he was right.

But how could it be? You remembered it, you heard the song, loki did too, you remembered the lyrics for god's sake.

As you reached home that evening you immediately called Loki.

--

Loki knew in order to find the answers you both were looking for he'd have to go find the sorcerer supreme and he did find her quicker than he had anticipated, maybe she wanted to find him as well..

"Pardon me, I need a moment," he said to the woman in front of her who was the sorcerer supreme before Doctor Strange. You were calling him and he never ignored you call no matter how busy he was or wherever he was so he picked it up immediately

"Darling are you alright" he asked you in a hushed voice,

"Yeah I just need to talk to you about something"

Well he needed to tell you something too but he knew it wouldn't sit right with you, he was being unfair again but he had to do this in order to protect you both.

"I'll be there in an hour okay?" He said to you softly before he hung up and turned his attention towards the woman everyone addressed as the ancient one.

"Is there no other way?"

He asked her in one last desperate attempt to avoid his fate but she only gave him a faint smile in response.

"If there was any other way you wouldn't be here seeking my advice. What you two have done have caused a warp in the current timeline, look around you Loki ..everything is disintegrating because you two chose to deviate from the original timeline and found each other before your time"

"It's's not out fault that your protégé messed up the spell and we both remembered each other"

"Well this time she won't"

As he entered your apartment you were pacing back n forth in your living space with a worried look on your face.

"You remember that song I played when we got high together the first time in the other timeline?"

You asked him hurriedly so he smiled but his eyes were teary, heart breaking at the thought that he was going to lose you again and this time you won't even remember him, he just had to rely on fate to bring you back to him. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you lovingly before he placed his forehead down on yours,

"I love you" he mumbled softly and as giddy as his words made you feel you knew something was wrong, you could just tell by the way he felt around you, it was as if you were connected to him in more than just a physical or emotional way.

"I love you baby .. something is wrong..isn't it?' You asked him so he sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"What were you saying about the song? I remember it clearly" He brought one of his hands to your face to tuck your hair behind your ears, the gesture made you lean into his touch.

"It doesn't exist..not in this universe..why?" You asked him so he sighed.

"Perhaps it hasn't been created yet"

"Then how come we heard it in the last timeline?"

"Because we were living a life that was never meant to happen darling and.." his voice broke as he paused his words for a moment and closed his eyes as if he was too afraid to say whatever he wanted to say,

"What is it?"

"We are still living that way darling..this is not how we were supposed to meet again"

You felt your heart drop as he said that. No, you couldn't go through this again, haven't you both sacrificed enough for the sake of the world?

"So? What's the problem then?"

You asked him as you pulled away from him so he grabbed your arms and pulled you closer again,

"You know what is the problem here sweetheart..you can see it can't you? All around you, things are happening..bad things and they'll keep happening until we fix our mess"

"We fixed it once" your voice choked on your tears as you spoke and it took everything in him to stay strong at the moment, he had to, he had to suffer this time for both of you.

"I know..I know we did, we did our best, it's not our fault that we remembered each other but I have found the sorcerer supreme.. there won't be room for any error this time" as soon as he said that you broke down in tears. This was your worst nightmare coming true.

"No please loki no please..pleaseee nooo" your hiccuped sobs crushed him to the core. Why couldn't he just spend a lifetime with you where he could just keep you happy? He knew he'd have to spend years without you before he was able to fulfill all the promises he had made to you.

"We are meant to be together my love, we are made for each other, I'll find you i promise, when the right time comes I will find you and I'll make you mine..i promise.. and then I won't let go until the end of time, until the end of us"

You stopped crying as he said that, you just felt broken at the moment, you didn't know how you'd survive this all over again.

"Thirty years, I have waited thirty years of my life..all my life to have a moment where I didn't feel so deeply sad or worthless. And then you came into my life out of nowhere and I have never been happier, i have been happier beyond my imagination with you" he cupped your cheeks as you let out broken sobs but you weren't done speaking just yet

"And now you want me to give it all up so I can go on and live miserably for a few more years? You are telling me that i…me..basic stupid me whose existence didn't even matter until I found you is the reason why this universe is falling apart and now I'm responsible to fix it? I'm supposed to sacrifice everything to fix everything all over again?"

He stayed quiet for a moment, he wanted you to vent, to take out your anger, whatever you had said had only pierced his heart deeply, he never wanted you to feel this way again but he had no choice, he never really did, he never got his will..

"Don't you see it, princess? It's all about you, everything has been about you, it had been about us finding each other but we find each other at the wrong time.. always the wrong time" He mumbled softly, things grazed over your cheeks to wipe your tears

You really wished his words had made you feel better but it really didn't, you only felt heartbroken at the thought of losing him, forgetting him completely and moving on with your life as if you weren't loved so immensely by this gorgeous man in front of you.

"And Yes you'll have to sacrifice again to save the universe and you won't even remember doing it but i promise that when I find you again I'll help you remember. The sorcerer supreme- she gave me her word that she'll help us remember everything, every moment that we have spent with each other, she'll help us relish those memories again, this won't be forgotten, our time together won't be forgotten"

You had to let go of him as if you had never fallen head over heels in love for the very first time.

You felt empty and all you wanted to do was halt time from moving somehow and freeze this moment right here so you could spend your whole life like this..a forever with him

"What if you don't find me lo? What if we don't find each other?" you asked between your broken sobs so he picked you up by grabbing onto your hips and walked a few steps to press you against the closet door, if he was going to lose you for years he'd want to engrave this moment in his head.

"We will..we are destined for each other. This is my last attempt to atone for my atrocities but I won't be so kind the next time.. I promise I'll ruin the whole multiverse and everyone in it just to keep you by my side"

Well you wouldn't even stop him.

You moaned as he pressed his lips against your neck and sucked on it while his fingers removed your clothes magically, he was going to fuck you but he was going to take his time, as you felt his cock inside you, you couldn't help but gasp as his girth stretched you out.

He didn't even use a protection this time but you didn't care about it, everything would reverse anyways. Right?

"What if you don't find me attractive when I'm older than this or bigger or ..just different" he chuckled but his teeth gritted and a moan escaped his throat as you clenched your walls around him

"You really think a few wrinkles on your beautiful face or a couple of pounds is going to change the way I feel about you?"

"Mmm i hope not" he didn't stop his thrusts until he had you a quivering mess, as he laid you down on the bed you were just staring at him with a dazed look on your face,

"God I'd never get enough of you" you whispered as your lips lingered over his mouth for a moment before you kissed him passionately.

"I'd never want that either sweetheart " he looked down at you, he can try all the positions in the world with you but this right here was his favorite of all, your body underneath him and eyes staring back at him with such love and adoration.

"Loo" you mumbled softly so he snapped out of his thoughts and leaned down to kiss you before he hummed "I'm scared"

"I know princess, so am I, but we have to do this. I can not lose you, I can't take such a risk" you nodded as he said that but he could still see the saddened look on your face.

"What if something happens and we aren't at the right place at the right time? What would happen to us then?" Your eyes welled up again so he cupped your cheeks and kissed you before he smiled.

"My love, no matter where in the world we are, eventually we will cross each other's path..I'll make sure of it. A moment so absolute where you'd would be eager and desperate to fall so deeply in love with me..just like this, you were made for me darling and I'll find you anywhere, anytime..i promise "

He kissed you tenderly and then he pulled away, a sudden look of confusion flashed across his beautiful features.

"That is strange" he mumbled and it made you giggle.

"What ..kissing me?"

"No..I uhhh ..just this moment we had just now..i have had a dream similar to this in the previous timeline..not same but similar..I always thought it was just us from the future" you hummed as he said that.

"It's a time loop Loki ..i understand it much better now"

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you snuggled him into you, one last time before you'd lose him again, you didn't even know how long you will have to go without him or when you'll see him again..it could be five years or ten or even twenty, you just hoped he'd find you before you're too old to love him the way he deserved, you wanted more time with him, you wanted forever.

Time was disintegrating so both of you had decided to go through the ritual the very next day, however this time you weren't really fixing the timeline but yourselves, the spell that sorcerer supreme was using would keep you in the same timeline but you won't remember the last few months in the way you did now, you'd remember it the way you were supposed to live it and so will everyone else around you.

She wasn't reversing the timeline again, she was barely fixing your time, she was fixing the mess Strange had caused with his spell. You'd wake up in the same time but your life will be completely different. She was going to make you forget each other. Or that's what you thought she was going to do. You didn't know the complete truth, he didn't tell you.

Before you could go through the ritual you wrote an important mail to Mark Johnson and asked him to send it to someone very important immediately. You needed it to be sent before the ritual, you had made sure to use an anonymous mail but you called him at the hospital to ensure that mail would get sent. Afterall he won't really remember you and you definitely won't remember him.

"I'll always love you lo, no matter where I am or even if I don't remember I just know my heart will always belong to you, it will never belong to anyone else"

His eyes teared up as you hugged him tightly, he wished he could have prevented this somehow but he knew he had to do this to protect you and your loved ones.

"And one more thing lo--" you mumbled softly and his brows furrowed

"Time was never wrong between me and you..it was always right..it was always pure and it was beautiful"

Just like last time you all sat down in a circle, he had kept his eyes on you before his world shifted right in front of his eyes, one moment he was there with you with your hands clutching onto his and the next moment he was in a prison cell in Asgard.

The spell had worked and it had worked the way he wanted it to work.

"When the time comes, you'd go see her and then you can make her remember everything you want.. before that you can not intervene no matter what" The ancient one warned him so he nodded, his eyes welled up at the thought but he knew he didn't want to live without your memories, he wanted to keep it, he wanted to remember you so he could make you remember him when the time comes, he was terrified of the pain that he will have to endure in the next few years but he was ready for it.

That's how he was destined to suffer.

A lone tear spilled from his eye as he sat down on the cold floor of the cell wishing that he was sleeping in your arms instead but he knew he couldn't afford that no more, he knew he won't get to see you, touch you or kiss you for the next seven years.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Taglist

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72 @nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute @pics-and-fanfics @daddylokisqueen @olivertwistrabbit @blog-the-lilly @prettylittlepluviophile @vanilla-daydreaming @somewiseguy @yaaamadaa-blog @dragonmurray @elthreetimes @gruftiela @thenotoriouserg @greep215 @yallgotkik @janineb86 @sflame15-blog @nyxlaufeyson @lokidokieokie @purplekitten30 @sunnixart @nikkig496-blog @frozenhuntress67 @qardasngan @rosecentury @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @hrefna-the-raven @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee @lotsoflokilove23 @oreo-cream @aesonmae @salvinaa

[boulette-of-paper]

YU-GI-OH “Historical” Headcannon

Hello, it's been quite some time. But finally, I took time to finish this draft!

Small necessary disclaimers :

⚠️ Excuse my english, I'm not native.

⚠️ It's hard to find the balance between historical and fun to write. So somethings I might have said in my previous post won't technically matter here.

Fandom : Yu-Gi-Oh (manga + anime)

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

General

Atem

His mother died during childbirth. That would explain the absence of brother and sister.

He had a nurse, potentially Maana's mother since it was said they knew each other since childhood.

Aside from that he had a pretty lonely childhood, he is the future pharaoh, a god among the humans. So every relationship starts with a massive imbalance.

He lacked connection with people basically. (Except Mahad and Maana)

Pharoh used to be disconnected from their people, they were symbols before humans

He had and still has an issue with eye contact. Either he doesn't look at people at all or just fixes someone intensely. No in-between.

Young Atem couldn’t stay put unless someone was brushing his hair.

Even older he has a very soft spot and liking when he gets pampered. He loves long baths or when someone does his make-up or again brushing his hair.

Atem has no issues with nudity, again the clothes were very reviling,

Atem might be anxious when completely alone. He’s so used to being with all his servants, advisers etc. ect that when the silence finally arrives and his alone in his bed he tends to feel weird.

He adores cats. But, he used to be a bit too enthusiastic and a cat scratched him and since then he let them come to him but never engaged with them.

Atem would pass hours at the temple, and his surroundings would think of him as a very pious man, but it was for the cats AND for Priest Seto.

Priest Seto

Priest Seto has the longest and lushiest (?) hair known to exist.

He loves cats and cats love him back.

Priest Seto knows his eyeliner, he does it in the first stroke and it’s always perfect

Child Seto because of his blue eyes was looked at a lot, not in a bad way but more like he was unusual looking.

Seto’s eyes allowed him to be noticed by priests as a “Child of the Gods” since some shades of blue seem to be linked to the sky and the divine in ancient Egypt.

Seto loves to read, and temples were known to be filled with a lot of scriptures.

Seto is more in touch with the people than Atem, since priests were also magicians and doctors

Priest Seto is so loyal to the Pharaoh not only because Atem is the heir of the gods he worships but also because younger they both used to pet the temple’s cat.

Priest Seto is good at what Atem doesn’t like to deal with. That’s why even tho he’s young his one of Atem’s favourite ministers.

Seto likes to walk alone at night under the stars.

Relationship Headcannons (I know you were looking for it)

But how do we end up in a relationship with those two cuties, and still be accurate historically ?? Well, my friend here is what I could think of.

Atem :

To be 1st wife material, sadly you’ll have to from the family OR a very very influential heir/heiress of a nobleman.

If you’re not 1st wife material > You’ll have to be part of his harem as either: a skilled person or maybe an heiress of an enemy tribe who has been vanquished or is in alliance.

Wait let me explain, Harem in ancient Egypt isn’t what we commonly think. The pharaoh’s harem was, surely to entertain the Pharaoh but also to showcase skill and the Egyptian culture in a way.

So we can imagine here so very skilled shadow game players or very beautiful dancers etc.

Seto :

Find no source to say that priest took a celibacy oath so you can imagine anything you want.

(Personally, I have my small fantasy of forbidden love between him and an OC priestess because I love drama)

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Here you have it. It’s not much but hope it at least entertains one or two people. I might have one or two more ideas but who knows. Have a lovely day

If you have any questions please to ask me and if you need sources again ask 😽

Bisous Bye <3

[sickiesope]

Hi again lol

Sorry here's another request😅

Could you please do a fic with sick Jungkook and him displaying the symptoms of lactose intolerance whenever he drinks his banana milk or eats something like cereal or anything dairy related, it really screws up his stomach and makes him feel and be sick but the others don't know what's going on and when his stomach ache gets really bad one of the members decide they should take him to the doctors?

I'm really in the mood for bts emeto fics today idk why sorry haha 🤷🏾‍♀️

Hiiiii thank you for this wonderful request it's so cute! :) I'm soo sorry it took so long, lately I've been lagging with motivation/creativity.. buut I loved writing this fic very much and have more stories coming soon! I hope you enjoy :) 💜

Banana milk disaster

Sickie: Jungkook

Caretakers: Jimin and Yoongi

TW: emeto

Jungkook really loves his banana milk. He enjoys a nice glass of it with his meals. Usually he's okay after one, but more than that can make him feel a bit sick. If he has a lot of dairy in one setting it can really upset his stomach.

Jungkook had cereal for breakfast, he likes to switch it up sometimes. He doesn't think much of it when he has milk with it. And of course he has banana milk on the side.

As Jungkook goes about his morning schedule, he feels a slight discomfort in his tummy that comes and goes. The milk he had is moving around a little more and his stomach gurgles. JK pauses for a second but then decides it's not a big deal. He keeps going on, believing it will soon pass.

A few hours later and it's lunch time. He was right about it passing, he feels better for the most part. Jungkook has pizza for lunch. The pizza had more cheese on it than expected but he loved it anyway and ate three slices. And he had two cups of banana milk to wash it down. He sits back in his chair as the food sits, feeling pretty full. He looks at the clock, it's already almost 1:00. The group has a short meeting about new music coming soon. He almost lost track of time and running late.

JK gets up quickly and the sudden movement makes his stomach rumble in complaint. It hurts a little more but he did eat quite a bit. Jungkook sees the other members walking down the hall and he lightly jogs to catch up to them. The quick movements hurt his stomach and make it cramp up. He slows down and winces, holding his middle.

Yoongi notices the younger "Kook, are you good?"

Jungkook quickly answers "yeah, I'm fine hyung. Just ate a little too much I think."

Yoongi takes the answer but looks at JK's expression. He seems a bit off but assumes he's just having some indigestion. Jungkook can't stand up anymore and quickly takes the first chair he sees. He tries to sit up straight but his stomach pains are making it difficult. He's trying to appear normal. Hopefully the meeting won't drag on too long.

As he sits there and listens to Hoseok and Namjoon speak, Jungkook realizes he made a big mistake. His meals aren't agreeing with him and he's starting to feel nauseas as well as pain. He had too much milk and that cheese pizza didn't help. His stomach is churning and struggling to break down everything. It feels heavy and uncomfortable. Jungkook touches his abdomen and realizes he's bloated. He rubs it discreetly.

As the meeting goes on, Jungkook feels increasingly sick. His stomach walls contract harder trying to digest but making little progress. The cheese is just a warm gooey lump bubbling up and the milk sloshes around rapidly, clashing with the gastric juices of his stomach. He can feel pressure building up inside and it hurts. Jungkook shifts in his chair, trying to hide his discomfort. His tummy does little squelches as it fights with his lunch. He hopes Jimin sitting beside him doesn't hear anything. He also hopes no one notices his fidgeting every few minutes.

Jungkook's stomach grumbles in a way that isn't healthy digestion. He quickly presses his hand over, trying to muffle the sounds. It doesn't work as Jimin looks and mouths to him "you okay?" Jungkook nods quickly, he's really flustered now.

Jungkook tries not draw any more attention to himself. "So we'll be recording again next week.." he hears Namjoon say. JK tries to concentrate but he can't. His stomach churns and twists with the milk bubbling and splashing around, it feels like a storm brewing inside. It hurts and makes him feel queasy.

"Ughhhhh.." JK groans, clutching his stomach. He can't take it anymore.

"Kook, is everything alright?" Yoongi asks.

"Huh?" Jungkook realizes they stopped the meeting and everyone is looking at him.

"Yeah, you've been acting weird this whole time" Hoseok says. He isn't upset, just worried.

"Is your tummy okay?" Jimin asks him.

Jungkook races to reach the bathroom. He starts jogging again, making his stomach hate him even more. Time feels like it's going slower and he worries he won't make it. The cramps get worse and every step he takes is a jab of pain.

Jungkook shakes his head and sighs. His stomach burbles and he feels the pressure escalate tenfold. Milk rises up and splashes against his throat and his eyes widen. He could taste it again and that makes it even worse. He half swallows then gags, he's going to throw up right now. Jungkook gets up and rushes out with a hand over his mouth. Everyone else looks at each other, confused.

Jungkook just makes the bathroom stall but doesn't have time to lock the door. The cramps are so bad he falls to his knees. He crawls and hovers over the porcelain bowl with shaky arms, breathing heavily. He gags and his stomach erupts with a tidal wave of milk pouring out. JK gasps and retches back to back, vigorously spewing out more with barely time to breathe. He's throwing up so hard that milk is pouring out of both his mouth and nostrils. It feels and smells so disgusting he can't stand it. "Oh my god.." he mutters. This has to be the grossest thing he's done. It tastes even worse coming back up and the smell is stuck in his nose. It makes him even more nauseated and sets his stomach off again, projectile vomiting into the bowl. It's a murky yellow color with random pieces. The cheese floats in little undigested chunks and curds, the whole thing looks so repulsive that he barfs again and more slimy chunks slip out. It feels awful and sickening, he just wants it to stop. Jungkook is surprised at how much he threw up and it still doesn't feel like he's finished.

"Jungkook??" A voice that sounds like Jimin's comes through "are you alright??"

Jungkook answers with another retch and coughs. "Ughh, hyung..I'm here" he chokes out.

Jimin rushes to the open stall and finds Jungkook slumped sitting on his knees in front of the toilet. He has an anguished look on his face and clutching his middle.

"Awwh, what happened Kookie??" The older asks worriedly.

Jungkook looks up with teary eyes "I think I had -- *cough* -- too much dairy today.." he says hoarsely. Another painful churn makes him gag and he quickly turns back to be sick again. More vomit forcefully ejects from his stomach and Jimin can see how hard he's visibly heaving. He grimaces at the sight in the toilet.

"Ugh, why did I have so much" Jungkook whines with remorse. He burps and spits up another small moutful and finally backs away.

Jimin holds him in a comforting embrace and rubs his back, not caring where they are. He also doesn't mind Jungkook's messy face burrowing into his sweater. He just feels terrible for the poor younger. "Are you done?" he asks softly.

"Mhm, I think so.." Jungkook mumbles, still holding his middle. He doesn't want to look at the mess half filling the toilet. He uses toilet paper to wipe his mouth and blow his nose.

Jimin flushes it for him and helps him get up. "Easy Kookie, take your time." He helps him clean up and Jungkook holds Jimin's hand as they walk out. The others are standing outside the bathroom with worried looks.

"Jungkook what's wrong? You sounded terrible in there" Yoongi prods. He knew something was wrong.

"How long have you been sick?" Jin asks, looking at his flushed face.

"Lunch just wasn't agreeing me, that's all hyungs. I think I got it all out now." JK replies, still a bit hoarse.

"Are you sure?? You were throwing up a lot in there." Jimin frets.

"Yeah I'm fine, I just want to go home" Jungkook sniffles. He can still kind of smell it in his nose and he hates it.

As they head toward the exit of the building, Jungkook feels his stomach roiling again, about to throw out more. He gulps and speeds up, trying to ignore the cramps. Jungkook pushes the door open and scrambles outside. He bends over heaving and his stomach shoots out more yellow vomit, splattering all over the sidewalk. JK continues to bring up liquid and chunks and he can see traces of the cereal he had for breakfast now too. His body really wants get rid of everything.

His hyungs are concerned at the amount he's throwing up, it doesn't look natural. "Kook, I think you should see the doctor" Yoongi tells him.

"Noo, I'll be fine--" Jungkook cuts off and gags, puking up another sloppy wave on the concrete adding to the growing puddle. He's mostly bringing up liquids now. He keeps thinking he's finally empty but then his stomach always surprises him.

"Look at this, you're clearly not well!" Taehyung gestures to the giant puddle on the ground and Jungkook still bent over, he can't stand straight. Jungkook spits out a few more bits and it finally fades off. His stomach is really screwed up and his throat hurts from the efforts. JK lets his hyungs take him to the doctor.

-----------------

Jungkook sits in the doctor's office with Yoongi and Jimin, he still feels sick. The doctor asks him questions about his stomach pain, how much he threw up, his eating habits and what he had today. He checks his abdomen, feeling how hard and bloated it is. Jungkook winces and groans as everything hurts.

"Hm, your stomach does not like too much dairy in a short period of time. In the future you'll have to be more careful."

Jungkook looks down and sighs "I'm sorry stomach.." he pats it gently. His stomach growls loudly in response, scolding him. "Yeah, you're still mad at me huh."

Jungkook nods, he feels foolish for not thinking of the consequences earlier. The doctor informs him on medications he can take to help with digesting lactose. Jungkook won't be giving up his banana milk anytime soon, just not so much dairy at once.

Yoongi and Jimin help him get up and they buy the medication. Jungkook decides to hold off on the banana milk for a few days but he knows he's likely going to retract that statement tomorrow.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Part 12

18+ ONLY 

Lee Bodecker x F!Nanny!Reader

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: references to smut, violence, corruption, cursing, age gap (reader is in her 20s), employee/employer dynamics, sickeningly sweet domesticity, and some angst

Author’s Note: I don't even have an explanation for how long it has taken me to get this next part out. I've had a lot of health issues I have been dealing with, but I am really starting to feel like I'm in a better place. I also was experiencing the worst writer's block I've ever experienced.

Now that this chapter is complete, I'm hoping to also post the next parts to my other uncompleted WIPs soon.

As per usual, this is unedited and if I forgot a warning, please let me know! And please reblog if you liked it!

3 Months Later

Stretching out on the soft linen sheets, you yawn quietly as you reluctantly open your eyes to check the time. 4:45 AM on the dot when Valerie begins to fuss in the other room and it wakes you up instinctively. You grumble, tossing off the deliciously warm covers, and grab your robe from the arm of Lee’s chair as you make your way from his- well your room to hers. 

“You did keep your promise,” you muse, picking her up and patting her back. “You promised last week you wouldn’t wake me up at 4:00. I see you’re already looking for loopholes in our contract, missy.” 

She immediately snuggles into you and you can’t help but love it. Feeling the warmth of her little body pressed into you as you feel her whole body relax is something you savor every time. She’s a little small for her age, but her pediatrician keeps assuring you both you have nothing to worry about. Affectionately, Lee sometimes calls her a runt even though it makes you crazy. However, it is growing on you but you’ll never admit it. 

“Shhh,” you mumble, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head, and walking her over to her changing table. Once you have her cleaned up, you take a little stroll with her to the kitchen to start with her breakfast. You shift your hold so she’s rested against your side so you have your dominant hand free to start putting her formula together. Her doctor also recommended beginning to introduce her to soft, solid foods so you also prep a little bit of a banana and soft berries to see what she’ll pick at- nothing too much cause you also want to watch for any allergies. 

You also start a pot of coffee for yourself and Lee once you have her settled in her high chair happily babbling away, some real words she has picked up mixed in between. Her favorite word she has really clung to is still her first word: Dada. Lee still is unsure of it, but you see the way he looks at her when she says it. Sure enough, it beckons him from the room almost instantly. Immediately, the doting begins even as early at 5:20 AM. Deny it he very well may, but Lee Bodecker is a girl dad whether he likes it or not. Though, all signs point to that he very much does. 

“My two favorite gals,” he grins walking into the kitchen. First, he looks to Val, pretending her stare makes him stop dead in his tracks and fall to his knees to begin kissing all over her face as she sits in her chair, making her erupt into her fit of giggles. 

“Morning bug,” he says to her finally, getting up off his knees. He winces at the minor damage his daily stunt causes. He plays it off well, you must admit. 

“M’lady,” he says, bowing to you at the waist. You scoff as he reaches out to kiss your hand. You knew no one else would ever believe he would behave this way. He was right when he said inside the house was your oasis. It was the truest definition of domestic bliss you could imagine, a secret happiness you allowed yourselves to share behind closed doors. This house has become a safe haven, where you were both free of outside opinion and the harsh realities of your situation. You don’t know the full extent to the situation Lee is in, but he is getting out for Val’s sake, and know for your sake as well. You don’t want to know, too happy with how things have gone to pop the bubble you both have made. 

The nature of your relationship is still unclear. Lee treats you- well like his wife, yet has never even been able to take you on a date. He also still signs your paychecks, which feels wildly inappropriate given the new developments, but neither of you want to have the discussion. He discreetly leaves the check for you to find when he is gone, and neither of you discuss it. You know it needs to happen, but you both fear ruining how things have been. 

You’ve fully moved in, very much complicating the situation. That was a very ugly fight with Julie, and you agreed she had every right to be upset. You have been helping her find a new roommate. She’s still upset, and vehemently is against your choice, and you can’t blame her or be mad in the least. You know what you did was a really shitty thing to do. You already weren’t coming home for several consecutive nights without keeping her in the loop, and then you spring on her that you’re moving out. 

She’s the only person you trusted enough to tell about the current situation-ship. She is very much against it, voicing her opinions very loudly as you packed your things a few weeks ago. You agreed, and didn’t fight back. You deserved it. You saw how your infatuation had caused riffs in your friendships. Things are still being worked out, and all you can do is everything to show her you can be a good friend, and hope for her full forgiveness. 

Lee kisses your temple, and ushers you to sit at the table while he begins breakfast. He sings softly to himself, trying his best to sound like Sinatra, as he navigates the kitchen on his quest to make you “the best eggs the world has ever seen.” 

“I need your love so badly, I love you, oh, so madly. But I don’t stand a ghost of a chance with you,” he mumbles offkey, mindlessly, and you look to the window above the sink to watch the orange and pink light of the sun take over the room. 

“If you surrender just a tender kiss or two, you might discover that I’m a lover meant for you.” The crackle of eggs as they hit the hot pan on the stove disrupts the mellow calm of the morning for a moment, but eventually it fades into the ambiance of the room. 

“And I’d be true, but what’s the good of scheming. I know I must be dreaming,” he sings, his voice cracking how it does in the morning. 

You know no one would ever believe you if you had told the world Lee Bodecker was like this behind closed doors. Affectionate, attentive, silly, domestic… Whatever is the best word for this morning. You bring the mug of coffee Lee has poured for you to your lips, the warmth from the mug radiating into your palms as you take a sip. Your eyes scan the newspaper that's scattered about the kitchen table and get a sense for the headlines. 

“They need a new Sunday school teacher,” you mumble casually glancing at the classifieds. From her highchair, Valerie blows an excited bubble of spit as Lee plops scrambled eggs directly onto the tray in front of her. There’s no point in trying for a bowl- she still is in the habit of tossing those on the floor. Her little fingers work to pick up the pieces, sometimes with too tight a grip, and feed herself. 

“Oh yeah?” Lee responds, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other tips the pan over your empty place to deliver your eggs. He adds some to his own plate in the place setting on the other side of Val’s high chair. He grabs the toast for the two of you out of the toaster and places the dish between you both. 

“Yeah,” you muse, grabbing a slice of toast. You start adding a slice of butter, waiting to see if he’ll pick up on the conversation you feel it might be time to have. 

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” he asks, as he sits down. 

“I’m not sure,” you say, “I mean, Lee- I need to be honest… It feels weird, I mean, correct me if I’m wrong- but, I don’t think you should pay me to be Vallie’s nanny anymore. It feels like we’re more than passed that now… right?”

He sighs, and you know he has felt the same. He looks relieved that you have brought it up first. 

“There’s something I need to take care of first,” he responds. “I think you should go for it. I agree this arrangement shouldn't be transactional anymore- it surely hasn’t felt like that in a really long time. I want this to be something better than that- you deserve that and so does she. I just need to tie up some loose ends. Then, we’re going to be a proper family, if you want that. Let me do the right thing.” 

“Are you pro-”

“No, ma’am, do not even finish that sentence,” he shushes you. “Don’t talk nonsense like that. You’ll know when I am doing that. It won’t be in a messy kitchen next to a toddler drooling over scrambled egg next to us. I’m just saying- I got to take care of some stuff. I think we’re on the same page. I just need a little time and then we’ll be situated in a more normal arrangement.” 

“Yes, sir,” you joke, picking up the section of the paper with the job listing. 

You continue to flip through the paper and Valerie continues to make a mess with her breakfast- occasionally taking a bite. Lee walks back and forth from the bedroom back to the kitchen to the living room in a loop getting ready to head to the station. Everything is in the wrong place and inconveniently nowhere near each other. He grumbles about the detail he’s needed for today, and how he thinks unfortunately he’ll be home late. He kisses your lips and Valerie’s head, mumbling about how he just wants to get home to his girls. Pressing another hurried kiss to your temple, he promises to make it home as soon as he can. 

Lee hated that he needed to lie to you. He justified it because he knew for your own protection, you couldn’t know where he was going and who he was actually meeting after his shift ended. When 6 o’clock rolled around, he got into his cruiser and shuddered, thinking about the meeting that was in for him. 

By some miracle of God or whatever higher power, Lee has been granted in his lifetime a reason to finally get out of the shady deals he’s previously dealt. He never meant to get tangled up in this. It was one favor that snowballed into others, and soon enough he's deeper than he ever thought he would have ever been. He knows he’s not innocent, and no one to blame but himself for the mess he’s caught up in. Part of him regrets not turning himself in. But he can’t do that, especially now, with that little girl sleeping soundly back at home. He can’t let her lose someone else. Even if the someone else is just as rotten to the core as he is.

He needed to get out. Pay his debts and start this life with both his girls with a clean slate. The last time he drove to this bar, he was here trying to get his mind off of you. Before he knew how it felt to wake up next to you, before he knew what it felt like to have your arms around his neck, before he knew how it felt to be inside you and how tight you feel around his- 

He has to get this over with as soon as possible. 

He walks in, and a member of Brown’s crew is sitting in the usual booth, nursing a whiskey. Lee averts his gaze when he sees Cherry sitting at the bar chatting up her next customer. He wants to pretend she doesn’t exist, and it never happened. It hangs heavy on his chest. You weren’t together, but the weight of his guilt feels like the highest infidelity. Brown sent a man named Wayne Hendrix to meet with Lee. Leroy Brown never came out for a meeting- his time far more valuable than anyone else. 

Lee recognized Wayne immediately. He grits his teeth, knowing this meeting is not going to go as smoothly as he would like. Wayne, much to Lee’s unlucky misfortune, was arrested by Lee on multiple accounts before he was sheriff. He knew Hendrix held a deep, unrelenting grudge on the past arrests. Hendrix did five years in prison because of Lee, and Lee knew that’s exactly why Brown sent him. 

“Wayne,” Lee said with a tip of his head, settling into the booth. 

“Bodecker,” Wayne practically spits, venom oozing from each syllable. 

“I’m not going to run for reelection,” Lee states, opting to just rip off the bandage. 

“Like hell you ain’t,” Hendrix laughs- a deep belly laugh that echoes through the whole bar. “Brown tells you when you run and when you don’t. What do you suppose you’re gonna do?”

“I want to settle my debts,” Lee says, standing firm to Wayne’s dismissive lecture.

“This ain’t how any of this works, pig,” Hendrix muses, swirling the remaining brown liquid in his glass before finishing it off. “Leroy don’t let anybody go. You ain’t ever out of debt to him. You think you can just write a check and suddenly you’re free of all your responsibilities and obligations? You gonna what- ride off into the sunset with that little plaything you got? Brown is just gonna lie down while you two are off playing house? Playing mommy and daddy?” 

Lee’s knuckles are white, and his nails practically draw blood from his palms as his fists form. His jaw is locked and he is doing everything in his power to swallow down the pure rage that boils his blood. It’s taking all of his strength to not lunge across the table. He could kill him. He takes long, steady breaths focusing on the chill that runs down his arms that releases the tension. He cracks his neck, and lets himself have a second to relax. Feeding into this is exactly what they want. They want him to lose his control. 

“I think it’s best practice to keep this discussion separate from family,” Lee suggests coolly, “You don’t bring up my girls, and I won’t bring up yours.” He watches as Wayne shifts uncomfortably in the booth. He watches as Hendrix’s eyes avoid his gaze. Wayne is very much aware that Lee not only knows his wife Maura from Church, but also his three daughters. Lee holds the upper hand if they are going to have a pissing contest on who knows more about whose private life. “I doubt Meg, Hannah and Marjorie want to know what their daddy gets up to when he misses their recitals.” 

“Listen,” Wayne spits, slapping both palms on the table, knocking over his glass. Both men ignore it, as it rolls off the table and crashes to the floor. “Leroy is going to offer you an out. It pisses me off to have to tell you about it. The only joy I’m getting out of this is the sweet knowledge that you’ll die trying.”

“What is it?” Lee urges him to continue. 

“You have Leroy’s word, you and your whole family are granted immunity and your debts are cleared. You just need to kill Deckard.” 

You’re asleep on the couch when Lee gets home. It’s well after 2am, and he feels sorry you must have forced yourself to stay awake as long as you could to make sure he got back safe. He places his hat down on the coffee table in front of you, and haphazardly takes off his tie on his way into the kitchen. He could cry when he sees the plate covered in foil that’s waiting for him. He notices there’s exactly one slice of cake left on the stand in the center of the table. In the frosting, it looks like you wrote “Lee” out with a toothpick, saving the piece for him. He walks back into the living room, and drapes the blanket from the back of the couch over your peaceful frame. He’ll let you sleep a little longer while he puts the food in the fridge. He’ll have it all tomorrow. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers softly, rubbing your shoulder to wake you gently. It’s no good. You are completely unaware in your deep sleep. He sits on the coffee table, moving his hat out of the way. He lets himself watch you for a few moments, enjoying the way you look. You’re just so serene, and he knows you never believe him but you always look so beautiful like this. He loves seeing your whole face soften, and the way your cheek presses against the pillow.

 “Let’s go pretty girl,” he says, even though you won’t hear him. Although he’s been up for around twenty hours, and he’s weak from the full work day and his unfortunate complicated night that follows- he scoops you up in his arms without a second thought and carries you into the bedroom. He’ll tuck you in, and pull you close and he’ll let himself sleep soundly knowing you're protected in his arms tonight. He hears Valerie’s soft snores from her bedroom, and that is the final permission he needs to let his heavy eyelids rest. 

There’s much to be done in the morning, but Lee sleeps tonight knowing all of his jobs are done. 

Taglist:

@demirunner

@littlemissthistle

@charmed-asylum

@msgodofmischief

@kcmarvel333

@oitommothetease

@hogwartsahist0ry

@letsfly-andbe-free

@iamlee1

@buckistan

@every-when

@swndmans

@lostgirllulu

@swiftieandthewintersoldier

@whatinthestyles

@maryelizabeth13

@thehuntresswolf

@charmed-asylum

@alyssadelashmit

@mandiiblanche

@whatinthestyles

@Bodeckersdiamonddoll

@waywardwifey

@everything-is-all-clear

@xxpwettystwellaxx

@Angieonthatbeat

@saiyanprincessswanie

@krozl62

@kirsteng42

@poemsforparker

@kjah97

@clarinette07

@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

@thrxshsxbbxth

[arvensimp]

Oh... Hi, is me again, I sent an ask about a delicate topic of a surgery not long ago... I was so hopeless when I sent the ask, and didn't think much of it, I was waiting for the third opinion of what to do with my current health state and the new doctor game me hope! We can't discard the surgery but overall is the last resource for him and wants to keep doing lab tests and such ;v; My idea still reminds of Arven looking after their special one in a delicate situation but... Well, wanted to share the news. Keep the awesome writing!

Hi there! I'm glad you've enjoyed my writing and am really sorry to hear about your situation!! I hope that things keep getting better as is possible and that your recovery is stress free and quick!!

I hope you enjoy how this is written; I don't know much about your specific case, but I can write from my own experience as someone who lives with several chronic illnesses. While I know this isn't the exact same as what you're going through, I hope it can speak some to your experience and give you some relief?

-

Arven x reader, no gendered pronouns used

--

Generally speaking, vows of staying together "in sickness and in health" usually wait until weddings. Of course, a good partner is one who acts on such a vow before it is ever made.

In the grand scheme of things, your suffering beforehand doesn't feel as important to you once a diagnosis and treatment plan are made and decided upon. Or maybe that's just a stress response? It's hard to say. While the suffering leaves its own unique scars upon your heart and body, visible or not, there's a sort of grief mixed with the relief in finally knowing what's wrong. It can almost feel like an admission of defeat.

The diagnosis and subsequent planning process almost seem like an anesthetic. Maybe that helps with the grief? You're not totally sure. There eventually comes a point where you more or less nod along with what the doctors have to say, trusting that they know what's best in your case. At least now they've put a name to the faceless evil that's been ravaging your body.

Arven does as best as he can to support you every step of the way. At many times, he's brought back to his memories of the time with Mabosstiff before the herba mystica. He never wants to feel that useless again for someone so dear, so he throws himself headfirst into what can do for your care.

If it's staying up late dealing with pain, he's there to wipe your tears and stay with you. If you need reminders of medications to take, he's got alarms set on his phone. Of course, he's also feeding you as much as he can as often as he can. It's his love language. If there are any special dietary concerns, he is more than on it and is in fact more than excited to learn how to make delicious foods for you within given parameters.

After all is said and done regarding your treatment plan, the two of you discuss the long term ramifications of what must happen; Arven mourns along with you for whatever losses have to be faced.

It's an inevitability that from time to time he gets a bit overbearing in his attempts to care for you, be it in monitoring what you eat too closely or trying to make decisions for you. Arven is the sort of man who has had such little control in his life until now that the urge to be in charge of it all can very easily overwhelm him. As frustrating as it is, he'll definitely back off when told to do so. He may be grumpy for a bit, but he can sort himself out. Apologies from him will usually come in the form of food prepared for you without asking or acts of services completely wordlessly.

At the end of the day, he just wants you to know that he's there, and he loves you no matter what, in sickness and health.

[thessalian]

This is a day in which I hate everything.

I was left with almost every single shitty bit of typing on record. Two eleven-minute monstrosities, a dozen or more five-odd minute monstrosities, plus all the ones that nobody else actually likes doing (because the request we made that someone talk to two of The Annoyances so that they'd maybe stop being less annoying went absolutely fucking nowhere). The slightly good news is that we did get all of yesterday's stuff done and at least a little ways into today's typing ... not helped by New Girl, who not only held off on picking up new stuff out of the queue until the scary long stuff was gone and started haphazardly doing individual cases still in the general queue a half-hour before the end of her working day, but also sat on a long-ass prostate report by one of The Annoyances until we'd gone well past its spot in the chronological order, at which point she dropped it back into the main queue so that someone else would do the fucking thing, but never mind. The real issue is that, because there are so many doctors reporting and so relatively few typists typing (and some of them being deliberately slow with shit they shouldn't be slow with, since they're taking so much care to only take easy dictation), the queue is up to nearly 270 cases.

This, as you can probably imagine, has left me in a state of just ... everything can just fuck off. I note that I am being a lot less generous in my dealings with things. Which I'm not going into because vagueposting is bullshit and generally hurtful. But it just means that I am soooooooo far past done and I have no real way of getting back into a state of absolute piss-off.

The stress isn't helping my whole fibro thing, either. It seems that the whole ... well ... *gestures to everything* has put me in such a state of frustration, rage, stress, and underlying misery that it's kicked off a pain flare and a migraine. And I know damn well that tomorrow is going to be worse. By, like, orders of magnitude worse. 270 cases in the queue and I know damn well that at least a few of the doctors are going to keep working until at least 6pm, possibly later, so the queue is going to be worse tomorrow morning. The fact that they start at 8am at the latest when very few of the secretaries start that early doesn't help either. And it being Friday doesn't help because they work weekends. And the "We need to hire someone new" item on our staff meeting agenda kind of vanished into the aether at some point, or possibly it was "We dealt with that by hiring New Girl as a permanent member of staff". That isn't a solution, though, because a) we needed more staff when she was temping and getting her paycheque from our organisation instead of a temp agency does not change that, and b) it's NEW GIRL, and she's a lazy mare on a number of levels and I do not understand why they hired her.

The one tiny shining point in my day ... well, it was sort of a mixed blessing. See, one of The Annoyances is ... a pretty big annoyance on a number of levels. He's a) a junior doctor so not entirely comfortable with the big things he's reporting on, b) not from this country so his accent is heavy and his English sentence structure is ... lacking, and c) somewhat inept at technology so he often ends up in a situation where his headset isn't linking up via Bluetooth to the computer he's using, so his voice always sounds far away and garbled because the in-built mic on the monitor halfway across the room is the only one picking up his dictation. No one likes to do his. I am no exception. The difference is, I can do his, and fairly well. I've dealt with most of those issues for a large percentage of my professional life. I don't like doing it - it's frustrating, it's time-consuming, and it's generally speaking a pain in the arse - but I am pretty good at turning word salad into a legible report or letter.

Now, this particular Annoyance ended the dictation by asking whoever typed it to email him when the report was done. Another few minutes out of my day, but fuck it; fine. So I emailed him. First I got an email saying, "Thanks for that". I figured that was the end of it, but nope! Then I got an email saying, "Oh, wow; I was going to log in to make changes but you wrote what I was trying to say so I don't have to! Thanks!"

I was a little bewildered for a moment ... and then I remembered that the rest of my colleagues (Goblin in particular takes great pride in this) tend to type exactly what is said. No editing as they go, no matter how badly a report needs it. Now, I'm used to being a PA, and to transcribing letters rather than just reports; in a lot of my jobs, I'd have been sacked if I'd ever typed out a letter or report exactly as written. Editing as I go is second nature, because so many doctors need it. Even the ones who have English as a first language are sometimes really bad with sentence structure, never mind those with English as a second or even third or fourth language. So I can't imagine doing anything else. But apparently the other girls are so set on typing only what is said, exactly how it's said, that he has had to ask us to email him when one of his reports are typed so that he can edit the thing. With me, he doesn't have to.

And see, that's why the warm fuzzies are being badly marred by an "uh-oh" feeling. What happens if he decides that I should be the only one that types his stuff? I mean, I do a fair bit of his anyway, but if the response to the few times when someone else types his is, "Lemme go back and edit the whole thing", and the response to me typing it is, "It's cool, I can leave it alone and save some time"... I've had it happen before, where a particular pain in the arse has basically demanded that I be the only one to type their reports and letters. Really don't want to give the girls another excuse to leave me with The Annoyances. Because you know they wouldn't take more of The Annoyances that aren't this guy to compensate.

Okay. I feel a little less like I'm going to murder someone for breathing too loud in my presence (which is good because the kids living in the block of flats are playing on the hill-lawn and there's the kid-shriek noise and it is not helping my head even the tiniest bit). Still miserable as hell, mind you. Somewhat uninspired as to what to do about it, though. Ugh.

[praebitorem-glaciei]

Yayyy slutty Grimshaw fic, gn reader

It wasn't that Achlys needed the money, he didn't. He was well respected and paid well at his job. Though his parents felt he was wasting two doctorates working in a lab, he liked the work.

No it wasn't about that. It was about the attention. Achlys loved the attention, craved being wanted by all sorts of people. It boosted his self esteem after the divorce, he and Vera had just drifted apart, but that didn't change his view of himself.

But this did. This attention did. And he got money for it too. It was a good deal for him. Feel good, feel wanted, get paid. Sure there were strange men, strange women. Some questionable people who wanted what he had to offer. But every single one was an experience he managed to handle.

On his hands and knees, face in the pillows, curly hair being tugged.

Sitting on a couch watching someone bravely ride him despite his size.

Using his much larger form to lean over somebody, hand on their abdomen as he took them from behind.

Achlys had experienced countless positions, countless bodies. He was safe, of course. But his hunger for being needed was rarely fully satisfied, even with these escapades. Still, he continued them, followed them wherever they brought him.

“Is this you?”

He looked up to stare at the phone shoved in his face, one of his many dating apps displayed on the screen. The short term fun for money part very visible. “Yes, why?” He questioned, lifting his head to eye his coworker with mild confusion.

“I'm just surprised!” She pulled the phone back, pocketing it into her lab coat. “Do you have a lot of time for dating with your custody agreement?” Achlys wasn't sure if he was being shamed or if the woman was genuinely just curious.

“Not very much, no.” He turned back to his lab work, putting a vial in the centrifuge. “But Vera has her every other weekend and for most holidays. So I find time. Don't you have two boys yourself?” Achlys smiled up at her and she returned the expression.

“I do yea! Dating is pretty hard with kids.”

But he wasn't dating, so he couldn't really relate. He went to strangers’ apartments and had sex and then he went home. Sometimes he met them at a hotel room, sometimes in a parking lot. But he wasn't dating, so he had more free time.

“Can you get this chart to Doctor Roberts for me?” He held up a clipboard and she took it, taking his obvious sign to end the conversation.

Once he was alone again he took his phone out of his pocket, he hadn't checked his messages all day. Achlys leaned on his arm, sighing as he swiped through some of his messages. None really caught his attention until.. Well, a bold offer was a bold offer. Things that didn't mean anything and paid. That was what he liked.

The compliments helped though. They really fed to his ego, commenting on his body, his eye, his face. Achlys responded quickly, awaiting a time and a place text. He got back to work, he only had a few hours left in his shift anyway. The doctor sighed softly, maybe his desires were a bit unconventional, but they were harmless.

Long hair cascaded down his shoulders and back, he brought his hand up to push his bangs out of his face, free hand on the mattress to keep himself pushed up. “How does that feel then?” He whispered in their ear, lowering his hand from his hair to trail his fingers up their abdomen.

“Good.. Good.” They gasped, lowering their face to the pillow in an attempt to catch their breath. Their legs shook with effort and exertion, but they couldn't just lay flat on the bed, held up by the man's body against theirs.

Achlys lowered his face to their shoulder, resting his forehead against their skin as he caught his breath. His hand trailed lower, fingers toying with their still sensitive flesh. “Ah.. Ah- Achlys..” Their voice muffled by the pillow as his sharp teeth grazed over their sensitive skin.

“Does it feel too good, dove?” His voice was teasing, light and airy. He hadn't even moved in a few minutes, his body only tightly pressed against theirs. No, just his hand, his voice, his fangs. It was all he needed to make them feel good. “I can stop if it's too much.” The doctor emphasized his words by beginning to separate his body from theirs, sizeable cock dragging along their inner walls.

They let out a choked sound, tensing and relaxing, their fingers dug into the sheets. “No! No.. It's fine. It's still good.” They clarified through soft gasps of air. Achlys got off on this, on being needed by strangers. Achlys exhaled softly, he didn't pull fully out, but he did pull further out before pressing all the way back in.

He couldn't contain his smile at the way their body shuddered beneath his. “There we go.. That's good..” He brought his hand back up to their abdomen, a good place to press when he slowly resumed his earlier pace. He had a solid amount of stamina, another bonus in this industry. And Achlys realised long ago he loved overstimulating all the precious people who came to him for pleasure.

Achlys waited for the tap out before he pulled out, gently stroking their back as they lay limp against the mattress. “Very good job, dove.” He praised in a soft voice as he got off of their bed. He looked around the room, disposing of the condom in the trash can before cleaning himself up with the wipes he brought.

The doctor carefully cleaned them up too, actions gentle, almost affectionate. If it weren't for the absolute lack of emotions involved. “There we go.. Do you want me to get you anything? Water?” Achlys asked in a soft tone as he got up to find his boxers.

“Sure, thanks.. Money's uh- it's in the kitchen on the table.”

“Thanks, I'll be back.” Aftercare was a given part of his work. He took the money, counting it quietly under his breath. Two hundred dollars wasn't too bad. He kept the money as he filled a glass of water. Achlys returned to the bedroom, tossing the money on top of his bag.

“Sit up, dove.” He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for them to sit up. Once they did, he carefully helped them drink the water. “Anything else I can do? I can cook.” Achlys laughed quietly, amused by their smile and head shake as they swallowed the water.

They flopped back against the mattress, sighing with content. “I think I'm good, thank you, Achlys.” He placed the glass of water on the bedside table, running his fingers through their hair.

“Of course.” Achlys stood up and finished getting dressed, stuffing the money and wipes into the bag he brought with him. “Well, you have my number if you ever want to do this again.” He pulled his jacket on, watching them finish the glass of water with a soft huff.

They waved behind them at him and he slipped out of the bedroom to the entrance. Good sex and now he had spare change to spend on gelato.

[drops-of-moonlights]

what relationship do winx/specialists etc have with their grandparents?

congratulations anon you made me want to draw them. you have untold powers to make me do such a thing. UNFORTUNATELY I ACTUALLY DIDN'T DRAW SHIT LMAO, just because that's a LOT of people and I'm. not about that. but I did do at LEAST some thinking of them! only covering the Winx here, maybe thoughts on the guys later.

Bloom has 2 sets of grandparents given, y'know, her DealTM. Both her grandpas passed away when she was a baby so she doesn't have memories of them, but she grew up lovingly with her grandmas. Silvana is her maternal grandma, a sweet old lady who taught her a bit of Spanish (as a reminder Vanessa is Mexican-American in the AU and so Bloom grew up with a bit of their traditions) and filled her with meals every time she visited. Her paternal grandma, Elizabeth doesn't visit as often as she lives in a different state, but Bloom loves her all the same. She's a retired office lady and always pushed Bloom to try everything she wanted - she was the one to buy Bloom a bow and archery gloves when she wanted to start archery.

As for Oritel and Marion's parents, she only knows her paternal grandpa (Eustace) and her maternal grandma (Lillia), and doesn't really have an opinion on them, having spent so little time. Both Eustace and Lillia also don't really try to get close to her that much as they can see that Bloom is just awkward about the whole deal and so don't want to push her.

Flora has both her maternal grandparents alive (Rosalía and Maurice(, while her paternal grandma passed away when she was a kid, before Miele was born, leaving her only with her grandpa Hugo. Rosalía is a witch (the Witch of Roses, Flora Source), and she comes from a VERY long line of witches. Alyssa broke the tradition by not pursuing morpher magic at all while Flora became a fairy, but she doesn't resent either for it - even being one of Flora's earliest magic tutors. Maurice is a doctor, and isn't as close with Flora as Rosalía but still loves her. As for Hugo, he's a retired lumberjack and was partially responsible for Flora's interest in physical activity.

STELLA HAS TECHNICALLY 8 GRANDPARENTS BUT I'M JUST GONNA FOCUS ON RADIUS AND LUNA'S PARENTS FOR MY SANITY LMAO. She only ever personally met her paternal grandmother, the former Queen Celeste, Sorceress of Sunny Days. Stella loves her grandma, finding her the funniest person alive, and confirms the Oriol royal family has charisma inserted in the bloodline. She knows only Luna's father, Fabrizio, is alive, but Luna doesn't have the best relationship with him and as such she never saw him.

Musa has never met anyone from her dad's side of the family and has no desire to, meaning she's way closer to her mom's side. She loves her grandma Wei Yang, who used to let her use her painting supplies and always loved whatever she drew, and her grandpa Jun, who was a big sports fan and was 100% behind his granddaughter getting into boxing and is a bit sad she dropped it once she went to Alfea.

If Aisha had a tense relationship with her parents, it was even worse with her grandparents, at least her paternal ones. Niobe's father, Ermias, was nice and doting enough, but she never interacted much with him compared with Teredor's parents, former Emperor Oceanus and former Empress Lulit. They were just as overbearing as Teredor and Niobe were if not more so, and she dreaded their visits almost as much as any of her other forced activites.

As for Tecna, she has all of her grandparents alive and well. Her maternal ones, Amara and William are actually farmers, who proudly boast of making the best cheese in all of Zenith, and Tecna loves them even if she dreads visiting them because she usually ends up helping at the farm and she does not like physical work lmao. Her paternal set are Ulric and Theodore (Anthonius is adopted), who are a retired electrician (Theodore) and a still-active Conjuror (Conjuror of Blizzards, Ice Source). The two men used to babysit Tecna when her parents had to work off-home and helped her with her magic development. Theodore, who Tecna was named after (her real name is Theodora in the AU as a reminder) was also the one that gave her that nickname, seeing her so interested in the machinery around the house.

[saiorse-irvyne]

Looking for Beta-readers!

Hello, you beautiful people <3

I'm looking for beta readers for an a/b/o AU I just finished writing the other day! All I need is people who are willing to read and give me their honest thoughts and opinions about it, as well as answer a few questions for me after they’re done.

The story is edited to the best of my abilities and my best friend can to help me with any grammar or spelling mistakes I've missed if i find no one whos interested in that. so no worries about any work in that regard, if youre just here for reading, thats already enough!

What I need is people that can tell me if the story does what I intended it to do.

If it is well paced, if the character progression makes sense, if the romance is believable, if the emotional beats hit right, all that stuff.

(And I have one story beat that I'm not sure work in general, aswell as general uncertainty about the humor i tried infusing this with from time to time)   

About the story: 

You’re looking at 69k words (nice), so it's kind of a slow burn, but not really. Once things get moving, they move fast. It’s a ‘strangers to friends to lovers’- romance situation, with the added caveat of alpha/alpha.

We have Dean and Castiel as the mc’s with both their POV's (and Sam on the side), but apart from that, every additional character is original. 

I really focused on the aspect of how to navigate the struggles of adult love life, with themes like self love, overcoming your fears, dealing with internalized homophobia, emotional maturity, and learning to deal with, and love again after, major heartbreak. 

Although this is Omegaverse, I wanted to approach it from a mature and real angle, hence why the whole alpha/alpha-homophobia setting. It’s really just the a/b/o-equivalent of our current day homophobia, in that regard. 

I made a point about not deriving conflict and tension from anything but real world issues and the problems that come from interhuman connection, because being a person with trauma and issues living alongside other humans with their own, individual struggles is hard. 

So, no misunderstandings in this one. In this house, we talk about our feelings and learn to face our fears when we discover them!

Although the vocal point is all of that, this story IS explicit and has two detailed sex scenes that tie into the development of the plot and are important for character growth. So if that isn’t your cup of tea, this story isn’t for you. 

Additionally, as this is alpha/alpha, the smut has minor sub/dom characteristics. It's very tame and mostly psychological, but I loved exploring the whole dominance/submission angle such a pairing would logically bring about. (On that note, its top Dean/bottom Castiel, just fyi) 

We got a healthy pinch of angst in the beginning and will end with fluff and a happy ending. And a metric fuck-ton of hurt/comfort, so if youre into that, there you go. (Seriously though, i made my lonely ass fucking depressed with this shit. Imagine having someone love you unequivocally for who you are, what a concept) 

I’ll wordvomit some more things here in no particluar order so you can get more of an idea of what you’re working with, as well as the very start of the story as a lil’ sumthin' to get you hooked.

If you are interested in helping me out, send me a DM with your email address and I'll give you access to the google doc! 

All the love!

Sarcastic Castiel, Booksmart Castiel, Angsty Castiel, Dean is an asshole at the start, He will do better, Character growth, Dean is a typical man, Dean is everything i want in a man by the end, Factually not very sound descriptions of working as a mechanic, All the smut tags, Seriously all of them, Sam is significantly younger than Dean, Emotional deepcuts, leaning onto friends, Hurt/Comfort, Writing this was a bit like therapy for me, Unspecified big city, Bitter Exes, Falling out of love, Unhealthy relationships with love, Toxic relationships, Explanations of A/B/O biology, The doctor does doctor things, I can’t think of more things right now, it's late, okay?

Heres the snippet:

Dean threw back the whiskey and sharply sucked in air as the liquid amber burned its way down his throat. The shiver running up his spine while the heat swirled downwards and pooled in his stomach was just what he needed. The confirmation that he could escape from himself, if just for a few hours. 

Usually, he didn’t run from his problems. He had always been the kind of man who pushed ahead, despite any and all obstacles obstructing his way. 

No matter what it was, nothing couldn’t be solved by simply running it over. Even if the resulting chaos kind of hurt.

But that was just how life was- in all its horrific and beautiful glory. It wasn't merciful with the blows it dealt, but it wasn't cruel with it either. A mostly neutral state of affairs, to be dealt with however one could or pleased. 

Which was healthy aggression in Dean's case.

At the end of the day, he'd rather do things that way than sulk in a corner, getting lost in the would haves, could haves, and should haves. Overthinking was the enemy of progress, and he hated nothing more than feeling stuck. 

He lifted his hand and signalled the barkeeper for a refill, not even bothering to call for the man. The music in this joint was cranked up way too high to verbally communicate with anyone who wasn’t literally right in front of you anyway. 

Although rather small, the establishment was positively drowning in people. It had startled him a bit, as this was a bar at the edge of town, and it wasn’t even the weekend or any holiday that would prompt this kind of crowd, but it was exactly what he had been searching for. 

Strangely, the building it was housed inside looked expensive as hell. Sleek and modern, like it had been built by some rich landlord to be rented out for ludicrous prizes. Which was why Dean had expected a relaxed lounge bar or something of the like. Not this madness. 

Well, under different circumstances, this probably was said lounge bar.

Right now though, every single table and booth was occupied, with lots more people standing around with drinks in their hands, making idle chatter that could only consist of short utterances at best. 

A dancefloor had established itself in the middle of the room where a shapeless amalgamation of bodies, clothes and hair moved along to the pumping music. 

From the few words he had been able to decipher as he had asked the barkeep about the occasion, it was some kind of motto-party. Something about 80s and 90s music-night that happened once a month. 

Most likely for the less city inclined folks to get their freak on, without having to go downtown and into an actual club. 

Dean didn’t really care, all he needed right now was to be around people. Be in the presence of other humans, be just one more face in the crowd. The feeling of overwhelming loneliness that had taken hold of him on his drive home had just been too much for him to spend the evening by himself. 

The houses and people had shot by, made to look flat and strangely lifeless in the mellow twilight of countless street lamps lining the road, when it had sunk its claws into him out of nowhere. 

So all encompassing, so vicious. As if it had waited for him to be worn out enough, skulked for the moment of weakness where he would not be able to restrain it anymore. 

Given how he had been living in the past year (and the years before that, if he was honest with himself), it wasn’t a complete surprise why he felt this way. But its intensity was still strange. 

It had quickly grown to be so unbearable that he had pulled over at the first opportunity and had fled into the night, searching for anything to distract himself with. Anything to not feel it anymore. 

Technically, he should really go home and sleep. There was an awful lot of work waiting for him tomorrow, and he would need to get to it as early as possible if he didn’t want to fall behind. But even knowing that, he couldn’t be bothered to care for the problems of his future-self right now. 

Another glass of whiskey appeared in front of him, and Dean picked it up with a thankful nod towards the barkeeper. It met the same fate as the first one immediately. Before the man could turn away to tend to the other people at the bar, Dean shoved the empty glass across the counter and motioned for another refill. 

The feeling of loneliness and anxiousness still circled his mind from the shadows he had forcefully banished it to. Prowling. Waiting for him to let down his guard just enough to pounce and sink its teeth into his neck again. He needed more to shut it out for good. 

“Someone’s motivated tonight,” the man laughed and poured more whiskey into the glass in a trained motion. 

“You know how it is, life’s a bitch and she’s not yet pretty enough for my taste,” Dean said with a crooked grin. He finally started feeling the buzz of the alcohol, and he was delighted by the sensation. It promised freedom. 

Dean chuckled along as the barkeeper laughed at his crude comment and took another sip of his whiskey. This time he savoured the taste while he turned and let his gaze wander over the crowd. Maybe he would find himself a pretty omega to distract himself with. It hadn’t felt like that kind of night at first, but the idea actually didn’t sound all too bad right now. 

What better way to get rid of pent up stress than to pound it away into a willing victim? It was what he did best, actually. Not that that was be anything to be proud of, really. 

Thankfully, that kind of relief wasn't exactly hard to get for him. If there was one thing Dean could count on, it was his looks to make anything of the like to happen, whenever he so pleased.

He didn’t think of himself as vain. But he knew that, objectively, he looked good. Apart from the plentiful statements from others that had echoed the notion over the years, the effect that a friendly smile combined with a flirtatious comment alone had on omega’s was proof enough. 

It wasn’t like he had an ego about it. A little one maybe. But he wasn’t about to complain about the fact that the genetic lottery had blessed him with good looks. And he wasn’t above taking advantage of the luck of the draw to satisfy his desires either.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to get a general idea of what he had to work with. As much as he appreciated what his own looks did for him, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about those of others. It was a nice bonus at best, but what really counted was their scent. 

Anyone could be beautiful, but only few omega’s managed to entice his alpha on a deeper level. And if he was going to do this, he wouldn’t just take anyone with a pretty face. 

He would seek out someone who made his instincts rattle. Someone who triggered his primal urges to run away with him. 

Someone who would bring salvation from the melancholic maelstrom that still faintly threatened to pull him down into its depths. 

The flourish of odours and fragrances that hit his palette was a lot to take in. With so many people stuffed into this cramped space, the room was positively overflowing with airborne aromas. 

The sweet, flowery scents of omegas, the harsh, earthy scents of other alphas and the mellow, flat ones of betas. All of it, fused into the general smell of sweat, perfume and spent air. 

Dean let the concoction rest on the back of his tongue, searching. In this first breath, there wasn’t anything that piqued his interest.

Scent compatibility was technically not required for a hook-up, because there was nothing really wrong with any omega’s scent. None had ever been as boring as those of betas, or as passively acrid as those of most other alphas. 

But in Dean’s personal experience, only the owners of scents who truly stirred his alpha were the ones that he didn’t feel kind of empty with after the deed was done. 

If someone only met the basic requirement of being an omega, it would just be flesh on flesh, meaningless and depressing when the post nut clarity set in. And few things were less enjoyable than being knotted to someone for an hour, who painfully reminded him of the escapism he had just partaken in by merely existing. 

Dean kept searching, growing more disheartened with each breath. Of all of these people, no one smelled enticing at all. Was there truly not one omega here who suited his taste? 

He was about to give up and just accept that it wasn’t supposed to happen for him tonight, when something entirely different hit his palate. 

Something unique. And intoxicating. 

It had concealed itself behind the translucent curtain of scents, almost like it had been hiding from him. 

It was like one of those ludicrously expensive perfumes that didn't smell like much in passing, but revealed a deep and layered complexity once you really focused in on it.

A few more drags, and he was sure. It seemed like he was about to get lucky after all. 

Dean emptied his whiskey and pushed himself off the barstool, ready to track down whoever smelled this delectable, and make them his for the night.

[void-botanist]

3 for the dynamics game 👀

send me a number, get some dynamics

4, 3, 6

Hossan, Umedes, Gren

Together, these three form the gamer trifecta of the Pabatcule. They usually play board and card games, but anything that sounds fun is worth trying. Generally speaking, Gren has the best reflexes, Umedes is the best at bluffing, and Hossan has the best strategy. Gren is not banned from wearing rings to play games but after the ERS Injury Incident he was banned from wearing them for slap games and just kind of decided not to during game hours (does he think there will be surprise ERS? no. but what if there is). I'm imagining Gren playing something like Cave Story or Super Mario Odyssey and Hossan and Umedes pointing things out to him because he's very good at the controls but he overlooks everything.

Gren & Umedes

The tallest spouses, both six feet tall. Gren thinks of Umedes like the older sibling he never had (he's an only child). Umedes has the infinite patience to explain things to him and the situational wisdom to know when to give up. They spend their time together out in the gardens, talking, or inside pouring over their various magazines. They do have one shared magazine subscription, about plants, because they both wanted to learn more because of spending so much time in the gardens. Gren is known to fall asleep when they cuddle because Umedes is just so comforting. Over the years Umedes has become comfortable enough with Gren to let him pamper them when they have to shed.

Sexually they have a more intense dynamic. Umedes is a masochist who loves anything with a blade, and Gren loves the skill of administering pain. Gren has also become an expert on scale anatomy to figure out how to drive Umedes wild without actually hurting them ("I could have been a doctor," he says, "except that bodily fluids are gross."). It's not exactly a d/s dynamic in the most usual sense, because Gren doesn't like playing The Dom, but Umedes is always gunning for subspace. As long as Gren doesn't have to be mean he can work over Umedes all day. That's what the restraints are for :3 A lot of what they do in the bedroom/dungeon is just this kind of pain play, but Gren also can't get enough of Umedes' forked tongue.

Gren & Hossan

Hossan has always been part of Gren's package deal - any best friendship with Yera has to involve Hossan somehow, and even though the two of them don't have the same kind of rapport, they're very close. There are occasional moments of jealousy between them, but they've learned that that just means that one of them has a need that's not getting met, rather than that their triad is crumbling. Hossan tends to be a bit laconic, but Gren knows all the things he likes to talk about (especially music, building infrastructure and remodeling, and birds), and likes listening. What he likes even more is watching Hossan do calligraphy. It's mesmerizing. Sometimes Hossan will leave him notes with complex flourishes and such on them, and Gren has saved every single one. Hossan has also taught Gren to do Yera's hair, though a lot of the time neither of them do Yera's hair. Aside from playing games and hanging about, the thing they do most together is birdwatch. Lately they've also spent a lot of time with the baby.

Sexually it's a toss-up whether it will just be them or Yera will also be involved. But between the two of them things tend to be less kinky and more sensual (which in itself could be a kink but Hossan doesn't really see it that way, mostly because he doesn't conceptualize himself as a very kinky person). Their mutual goal is to melt in each other's embrace, but how they get there isn't always soft. If the palace does in fact have a private sauna they've definitely fucked in there, but it certainly has big fancy showers and baths that they've enjoyed.

Hossan & Umedes

Hossan and Umedes don't spend a ton of time alone together. It's not that they don't like each other - they get along quite well actually - but that they lead sort of separate lives, and being around Pali all the time also inherently tends to draw Umedes away from Hossan, because Pali has a weird distant relationship with him. Umedes remains fascinated with Hossan's past life as a courier, and has slowly started to spend more time with him to learn how to do calligraphy (something something connoisseurs of the obscenity of the fountain pen). Hossan is trying to get Umedes comfortable being around the baby - not because Umedes needs to care for the baby but because every time Umedes interacts with the baby they do it with the utmost care and a look of mortal panic on their face. They're terrified of doing something wrong, which they want to get over in itself, but they're also starting to wonder whether having a baby of their own in the future is a good idea and have started discussing it with Hossan.

The two of them don't have a sexual relationship but they do sometimes have moments of particular physical intimacy, like sharing horn balms or Hossan helping Umedes with shedding-related activities. Hossan usually isn't a part of the shedding process, but Umedes has always found it easier to let him in than Gren because it somehow feels less personal and embarrassing with him.

[beep-beep-sunny]

It's done! I've finished My Daddy Likes Boys! I hope you like it! If people like it, I'm going to write a couple sequels in the same universe. Read here or on AO3.

Chapter 1: Two daddies?? Cool!

My daddy likes boys. I don't know why that's such a big deal. I'm not a dummy. I understand that they don't mean he likes boys just as friends like me and Hank from my class. Otherwise, mommy and daddy wouldn't have broked up. I get it. It's about in love. Like Aladdin and Jasmine. They aren't both boys, but that's okay. I'm sure there are other examples of boys I'm just not thinking of.

Mommy already sees other boys. Daddy comes to watch me when she goes on her "dates" and we watch Bluey on TV or play hungry hungry hippos. Daddy is great at games, but I'm better because I always win. Still, daddy deserves to play games with someone he can beat. Someone he can go on "dates" with. Maybe on a magic carpet. Daddy likes cars, and that's a very cool and special kinda car. I wanna ride on one. Maybe if daddy's boyfriend has a magic carpet I can ride in the backseat and fly up high. That would be cool. That would be super cool.

I started kindergarten in the Fall. I'm in Mr. Tozier's class. He wears funny, colorful shirts and does voices that make me laugh a lot. When we learned about animals he made all the sounds. My favorite was when he made the goose sound. Mr. Tozier is the coolest.

And a boy.

And daddy likes boys.

Then I had an idea. My daddy and Mr. Tozier could be in love! That's a great perfect idea. I just needed to find a way to get daddy and Mr. Tozier to talk. When they talked they would obviously instantly fall in love because they are both awesome and fun and they both love me. It would be the greatest thing to have two daddies!!

I started small. Daddy tells me every day that I'm brave and I decided to prove it. I made sure Mr. Tozier was close and I climbed up higher in the jungle gym than I had ever climbed. The other kids watched and some waved and giggled. By the time Mr. Tozier noticed how high I climbed and started running towards me, it was too late. I bent my knees like a frog. Mr. Tozier saying ribbit ribbit popping into my head as I hopped off the roof (where I definitely wasn't supposed to be) and fell hard onto the ground.

Plop

I yelled and yelled and yelled some more. How was I supposed to know it would hurt THAT much. Mr. Tozier reached me quickly with his kind blue eyes twisted up in worry. "Frankie!" He yelped. "How'd you even get up there?" He was concerned, but I couldn't help but notice he also sounded impressed. This was going perfectly according to plan even though my arm hurt a whole lot.

Mr. Tozier carried me to the nurse's office. "I'm gonna call your parents, okay? Just sit tight buddy." I made a froggy sound and his worry melted away just long enough to do an, admittedly much better, froggy sound.

He rushed out the door. Oh no. "Call my daddy!" I shouted after him, hoping it was loud enough. My voice was usually louder, but my arm hurt too much! I waited to let my tears fall down my cheeks for after Mr. Tozier left. He probably thought I was very brave. Mr. Tozier and daddy will talk about how brave I am all day long until they fall in love.

Daddy didn't come. Mr. Tozier must not have heard me. When I saw mommy come through the door with her arms stretched out like she was ready to clean my dirty cheek with her spit, I cringed a bit and then started crying. This time it wasn't from the pain. Well, it wasn't just from the pain. This was going to be harder than I thought.

Chapter 2: Frankie's Big Break

I had a lot of time to plan my next move while I was at the doctor then at home. My arm was broken and got put in a huge cast. It's so hard and heavy. I drummed on the wall with it when mommy wasn't looking, she always told me to stop even though it made the best sound.

That made me think of my next idea. I couldn't keep getting hurt and going right to the hospital. I'd be off too much school and all my bones would be in casts until I couldn't move. I can't make Mr. Tozier and my daddy fall in love like that! I need at least one limb free!

When I got back to school, all the kids wanted to talk to me and sign my cast. I noted that I'd let Hank sign it first, after I talked to Mr. Tozier. Unless Mr. Tozier wanted to sign it first. Then he could. Sorry Hank.

Mr. Tozier sat at a big desk with papers all over the top. I could just see over it. He looked down at me, looking over his big thick glasses. He must have a really hard time seeing with glasses that big. My eyes are perfect, everyone says so, but daddy probably doesn't care about perfect eyes. I tried to focus.

“Frankie?” Mr. Tozier said. “What is it?”

“Next time I get in trouble, can you call my daddy instead of my mommy?” I said. I thought if I was as obvious as possible that he would definitely get it right next time.

Mr. Tozier's brow furrowed. “Well, you weren't in trouble, Frankie, but why do you want me to call your daddy? Is something going on at home?”

I really thought about it. No, not really. Home has been kinda boring. Daddy always looks sad when I'm with him, but mommy always has boys around all the time. I just want my daddy to be happy too. Not with lots of boys though, just Mr. Tozier. I didn't like getting used to lots and lots of new boys because some of them smell funny and have weird mustaches.

“Frankie?” Mr. Tozier asked. Oops, I'd been thinking too much.

“No.” I said quickly and walked away. I didn't even remember to ask him to sign my cast. I guess Hank could do it first after all.

After all the kids got done signing my cast with lots of cool things, Hank drew a dinosaur, I went to work. I knew daddy would definitely come if I was in danger, but it didn't work the first time. I decided I had to do something different. I had to get in trouble.

It happened at recess. Mr. Tozier was watching everybody, but I wanted to make sure he was watching me. I took a big breath in and let out a loud scream. Mr. Tozier looked up but so did everybody else. I'd have to explain why I was doing it to all my lots of friends later. They'd understand. With all my might, I pushed over the big wood play kitchen and all the kids playing house ran away. The play plates hit the ground over and over one at a time. It sounded like rain.

Mr. Tozier rushed over. Yay! “Is everyone okay?” The other kids nodded. When he looked at me, he didn't look mad. He looked worried. That made me worried too.

He took me to the place I go to when I get off my bus and had me sit in the big plush chair. Once he was in the other room, I got up and pressed my ear to the door. He was talking to somebody. I think on the phone.

“I think something might be going on at home.” Mr Tozier said. I sighed. Not really. Just call my daddy. Say I'm in big trouble. “Oh, a divorce? That's gotta be tough on him.” It wasn't tough at all! What was tough was getting my daddy and Mr. Tozier in one room. Ugh!

Chapter 3: Why Does Everybody Ask if I'm Okay??

How was I supposed to know they'd just make me talk to some lady? That is not what I wanted at all.

“Frankie,” She said gently like she was talking to a puppy. I'm not a puppy. “Can you please tell me how things have been at home?”

“Why does everybody keep asking me that!” I knew it wasn't polite to shout, but I was getting so frustrated! “Sorry, things are just fine. I'm happy.”

Even though I told her I'm happy she still looked sad. What was going on? “Are you happy when you're with your mommy?”

I felt a big frown on my face. “Yeah, I guess!” I folded my arms. Things were fine. Mommy was just kind of boring sometimes. She just wanted me to dress up nice and be polite. I was so sick of always being so polite.

“What about your daddy?” She asked.

I smiled. “Well, daddy is the best. We play games and watch TV but he's lonely and needs a boyfriend like my mommy has.”

The lady's eyebrows raised up like they were gonna bump into her hair. “A boyfriend?” She asked. “Maybe you mean a girlfriend.”

I rolled my eyes. “No! My daddy likes boys!’’

Talking to that lady was so pointless. She didn't even help me with how to get Mr. Tozier and my daddy together. I hoped I never had to see that lady ever again.

My mommy drove me home and fussed with my hair when she buckled me in. “What did you say to the nice lady?” She asked me.

“I told her daddy likes boys.” I explained, getting a little tired of always having to explain myself.

Mommy's eyebrows did the same thing as the lady. It's a little silly for her to be surprised. I knew she knew that already. She didn't say much else. She just got in the front seat and drove us home.

When Daddy came to pick me up the next day, I was so excited. It was the weekend and Daddy always planned a fun activity. I wanted to see the new Sonic movie and get lots of popcorn.

It was taking mommy and daddy a really long time to come get me in my room, so I hopped off my bed and sat on the top of the stairs looking down at them through the bars. They looked upset. They had angry eyebrows and folded up arms.

“You told him about your little perversion?” Mommy said. I didn't know what that meant, but what did daddy tell me about? Maybe about the big black cats at the zoo.

Daddy held up his hands. “No, I didn't tell him anything about that. I don't know how he found out.” Maybe not about the big cats after all.

“Well, tell him you don't. Tell him you like women like you're supposed to.” I opened my eyes really wide. Was this about daddy liking boys? What's the big deal! Mommy likes boys too!

“Daddy can like boys if he wants to!” I ran down the stairs to stand up tall next to daddy.

They both looked down at me with their mouths hanging open. Close your mouths, gosh! “It's not normal.” Mommy said in a calm voice. I was so sick of people talking to me like a puppy or a baby or something.

I held out my hand. “Daddy, I wanna go.” I didn't feel like talking about this. I had important things to do.

Daddy looked down at me, surprised. Mommy looked mad. They looked at each other for a few seconds before daddy grabbed my hand and we started walking out. I smiled wide.

“Wait!” Mommy called after us, but we didn't stop or look back.

We were gonna have a wonderful, awesome time watching Sonic and eating popcorn and then after that I would think about my next plan. Daddy and Mr. Tozier were gonna be happy if it was the last thing I did!

Chapter 4: Hank's My Best Friend Ever!

"Okay Hank, this is very important.” I started to explain. It was nap time, so I had to whisper. I had my mat pulled up right next to Hank's. Hank had a big smile while he listened. He was always a good listener. Probably because I told lots of good stories. “My daddy likes boys.”

“What else would he do?” Hank poked his cheek. “You're a boy, so if he didn't it would be really sad actually.”

“No, no.” I waved him off with my cast. “I mean he likes boys like mommies like daddies.”

“Woah.” Hank said. “That's so cool. I wish my daddy likes boys too.” I knew I could count on Hank to see things my way. My daddy was pretty cool after all.

“I think my daddy should be in love with Mr. Tozier.” I explained and smiled a lot. It was such a great idea.

Hank didn't smile, he looked worried. “But Frankie, he's our teacher.”

“So, what?” I folded my arms.

Hank seemed like he really had to think about it. That made sense because he was being silly. “It's weird.”

“That's a horrible reason, Hank.” I shook my head. I really expected more from my best friend ever.

“What if he treats you different?” Hank pushed his fingers together.

I huffed. What a dumb thing to say. “It would only be good different cause he'd give me less work and maybe let me go home early.” I hadn't thought about any of that, but a teacher daddy had to have perks.

“Woah.” Hank said. “Okay, what do we do?” I knew Hank was a good friend! Now I had a whole helper! We'd definitely make it happen!

“Well, I already tried this.” I proudly held up my cast.

“You did that on purpose?” He asked, scrunching up his face. What was the big deal? It didn't even work.

“And when I knocked over the kitchen.” I smiled wide. They were all very good plans, so the next one would definitely work!

Hank frowned again. “That broke off the sink and now it doesn't fit.”

“It was for a good reason.” I said. “My daddy needs love!”

“I guess so.” Hank still pouted, so I made a funny face and oinked like a pig. That's what Mr. Tozier would do.

Hank giggled a lot until a girl on the mat next to us said, “Shhh!” That just made us giggle more.

We put my plan in action just after nap time. Hank went up to Mr. Tozier and got his attention. “Look, Mr. Tozier!” He said, then started trying to put his whole fist in his mouth. I had to try really hard not to laugh. At first, Mr. Tozier watched, but as I expected, he tried to stop him after that.

That's when I made my move! I slipped behind the cubbies on the wall. There was just a tiny little bit of space, but I slipped in like a super spy when no one was looking. I could still see everything! My plan was working perfectly.

A few minutes later, everybody got their bins from the cubbies to start working. Hank went straight back to Mr. Tozier. “Excuse me, Mr. Tozier?”

“What's on your mind, Hankster?” He winked. I sighed. What was my future other daddy doing giving fun nicknames to other little boys? Very inconsiderate!

“Have you seen Frankie?” Hank asked. The smile grew wider on my lips. I tried hard not to giggle. Mr. Tozier's smile went away completely. He hopped up and started looking all around. I held my breath. He checked in the lockers. Good thing I decided not to hide there! That was a close one. He checked in the trash can. I definitely wouldn't have ever hid somewhere like that. Unless I got really desperate to think of a good spot I guess.

Mr. Tozier looked back at Hank. “Hank, do you know where he is?” I crossed my fingers in both hands. Hank, please don't be a tattletale at a time like this! “If you do, please tell me. Neither of you will be in trouble.”

Hank shook his head. “I think you could call his daddy.” Hank added. Yes! I knew Hank was my bestest friend ever for a reason! We did it! My daddy was about to meet the love of his whole life!

Chapter 5: They Meet and I'm Cute

It got a little boring waiting in my hiding place. My back hurt too because the plug on the wall was poking it, but it was all worth it for my daddy!

Mr. Tozier had been pacing around and Hank was obviously trying really hard not to look over at me. He was doing a very great job.

It felt like forever and ever, but finally I heard someone stomp in the room. Daddy! I could tell it was him. I was so happy I almost gave up my hiding spot. I put my hand over my mouth just in case.

“Unbelievable.” My daddy said. “Your one job is keeping the children in your care safe and my child breaks his arm and then goes missing! I hope you don't like your job.” I frowned. This wasn't right. They were supposed to fall right in love at first sight!

“Sir,” Mr Tozier started talking, surely he would fall in love with my great, awesome daddy! “With all due respect, this is not an easy job. They haven't replaced my classroom aide since he quit.” I remembered Ms. Ramsey. She snorted when she laughed. I always wondered when she'd come back. “Trust me that the welfare of my students is the thing I care most about.”

“So, is it just my son that you are lax with?” Daddy said, still sounding angry. This wasn't good!

“No. I care very much about your son.” Yay! I knew I was the favorite. He'll definitely love my daddy just so he can be my other daddy. I'm so cool. “I've actually been very worried about him. He's been acting out a lot.” More like I've been trying really hard to get you two knuckle sandwiches to be in love! Give me a break.

“Of course he has been with this level of instruction and look at this deathtrap!” My daddy held up the broken part of the play sink and waved it around.

“Frankie broke that actually. He just shoved it over while other kids were playing with it.” I smiled, a little proud even though that plan didn't work.

Daddy frowned and crossed his arms. He had the line in his face he got when he was worried and the other one he got when he was mad. “Well, can't you watch him better? If you just-” Daddy put a hand over his mouth. Mr. Tozier put a hand on daddy's shoulder. It was happening! Frankie Kaspbrak you genius! “I'm sorry.” Daddy said. “This just isn't like him.”

“From what I understand, he's going through a lot right now.” Mr. Tozier said with his kindest tone.

Daddy gasped. “Are you trying to blame this on the divorce? You're the one that lost my son!” Daddy's voice squeaked like it did the time I found a baby rat and brought it in the house as my pet.

“I'm not blaming it on anything.” Mr. Tozier was so calm. I wanted him to make a cool animal sound so my daddy would stop being so mad. “I think he's probably hiding. It seems like it's been about attention. It's like he wants me to call you. Specifically you. I don't mean to pry, but has the divorce made it difficult for you to spend time with him?” That's not it at all! I do want to see daddy more and everything, but that's not why I was making these really smart plans. Clearly I was doing something right because it worked.

“No. That's ridiculous. We should call the police. A kidnapper could be getting further and further away by the second.” No! That wasn't what I wanted at all. It was time to make my great reveal! They'd both be so happy to see me and we'd all laugh and smile together.

I started trying to wiggle out of my hiding spot, but when it got to my arm with the cast with lots of decorations on it, it didn't budge. Uh-Oh.

Chapter 6: Stuck (but Being Really Brave About it)

My cast made a loud smacking sound as I tried to pull it free. Before I got my arm unstuck, everyone looked up from talking and stared at me. They had big eyes like owls, hoot hoot, Mr. Tozier might say.

Daddy's eyes were all watery and he rushed over. “Frankie, oh my god. Have you been here this whole time?” He gave Mr. Tozier a really mean look. “He's been here the whole time and you couldn't find him? How is that possible?”

Mr. Tozier shrugged. “I said I thought he was hiding, but I'm very sorry about all this.” He still looked very stressed out and his eyes were all red.

“You can't just relax because you think something is true when my son could be in danger.” Daddy always talked with his hands and started to talk really fast when he was mad, so he was probably very mad.

I kept trying to wiggle free, but it wasn't happening. Oh no. “I'm stuck.” I said interrupting their boring conversation that wasn't even about being in love.

“Stuck? Oh God. Your arm?” Daddy asked. I nodded. It was very obviously my arm, but whatever. “Does it hurt?”

I shook my head, but it was kinda hard cause there was barely space to breathe. “No, it doesn't hurt even a little bit.” I was super brave after all.

“How did you even get back there?” Mr. Tozier asked, he sounded pretty impressed.

“I just wiggled.” I said with a big smile showing all my teeth.

My daddy bobbed his head up and down like a gulping fish. Splish splash . “Have you tried to wiggle out?” Daddy wiggled as if I didn't know what wiggling was. I wiggled my whole way back here in the first place!

“Yeah, I did try it! I wiggled and wiggled, but I'm still stuck.” I pushed out my bottom lip. So frustrating! My plan wasn't working well at all.

Daddy chewed on his lips. “Your mother is not going to be happy about this.” He said it all quiet like he wasn't even talking to me, but he obviously was.

He tried to pull on my cast, but it hurt. “Ow.” I said.

“Sorry, I'm sorry.” He let go of me right after like it hurt him too.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kaspbrak?” Mr. Tozier called my daddy something funny, tapping on his shoulder. I guess he can't call him daddy, but my daddy's not even a teacher!

Daddy turned back to look. “What?” He breathed out really hard, like whoosh .

“Let me try, I have an idea.” Mr. Tozier said.

My daddy kept breathing loud. “Fine.” He stepped away from me.

Mr. Tozier did the thing where his fingers make little cracking sounds. I giggled. He was so silly. “Okay, Frankie. Are you scared?”

Of course not, I was obviously being very brave. “No.” I said.

“Alright, let's see…” He looked all around the small, dark place where I was. I tried not to think that it was so small and dark, but it was hard not to think it. “Do you think you can jump out of there really fast when I say go? You can race to your daddy.”

I smiled wide. That sounded like a fun game. “Okay!”

“What are you going to do?” Daddy asked.

Mr. Tozier winked at him. “I have a plan, just stand back.” My daddy's face seemed kinda blotchy and red. I hoped he wasn't getting sick cause he was so worried about me. That would be bad. He nodded and took a few steps back.

Hank looked up at my daddy. “Is Frankie going to die?”

Daddy just looked at him with a crinkly face, but Mr. Tozier said. “You trust Mr. Tozier, don't you, Hankster?” Hank smiled and nodded a lot. Me too. He was gonna be a great other daddy.

Mr. Tozier pushed something that made a loud clicking sound and wrapped his big, huge arms around the cubbies that were making me so stuck. He leaned back with all his might making weird little sounds that were pretty funny. I could see more light after that. “Go Frankie!” Ready, set , go and Frankie Kaspbrak was off like the flash! I did a really cool job coming out by kicking off the side of the cubbies.

I ran up to daddy and jumped up into his arms. We both smiled a lot, but then, there was a big, loud crashing sound. I looked over from daddy's arms and I saw Mr. Tozier being crushed under the big, heavy cubbies.

Hank pulled on my daddy's pocket. “Is Mr. Tozier gonna die?” He asked. Good question. I hope not. How could he be my new daddy if he died!

Chapter 7: Two Tomatoes Make a Salad!

No, no, no! I started rushing over to Mr. Tozier, but daddy put his hand out and I stopped. Daddy went over really slow.

“I'm a-okay!” Mr. Tozier said from under the cubbies. “Don't worry about me! I have a hard head!” Mr. Tozier definitely did cause he ran into stuff all the time! He always said ‘it’s okay I have a hard head ' or ‘another bruise for my bruise collection' . I had a bruise collection too.

Daddy made grumbling sounds and bent his knees next to the cubbies that were crushing Mr. Tozier's whole body. “Don't be ridiculous. You should definitely be seen by a doctor after this.”

“Nope, years of being reckless have made my head basically a head of steel. Nothing could penetrate it now. My brain is well protected.” Said Mr. Tozier. Yeah! He had to be right. That made sense.

“That's not how it works at all, dummy.” Oh. “Once you get one concussion, every one afterwards gets worse and worse and worse. How many have you had? Maybe I should call an ambulance.” Daddy held a hand to his head like he did when he was about to put me in time out. Mr. Tozier was about to be in time out.

“Please don't do that.” Mr. Tozier said. He really didn't want to go to time out. I didn't blame him. It's super boring in time out.

“What's a concussion?” Hank asked. It was a good question. I could have answered it, but I let daddy feel smart.

“A brain injury. It's very serious.” Daddy said quickly.

“What's an injury?” Hank asked again.

Mr. Tozier answered that question from under the pile. “A booboo.” He said.

“Oh!” Hank said. I already knew that, but that answered the question for Hank. Mr. Tozier and daddy were very smart.

Daddy shook his head fast like a dog. “That's enough of this foolishness. We're getting you out of there.” He rolled up his sleeves and started pulling on the cubbies. “What on earth? How could they possibly weigh this much? I should definitely call someone.” He said.

“That won't be necessary, Mr. Kaspbrak.” Said the voice of Mr. Tozier from under the pile. He was really stuck good. “Can you just pull and I'll push?”

Daddy breathed loud like a dragon. “Okay, fine. We can try your idea first.” He tapped his foot fast like a bunny. He was being lots of funny animals!

The stuff moved probably because Mr. Tozier moved, not because there was a bunch of friendly mice trying to help. Sad. “Good. On three.” Mr. Tozier said. “One, two, three.” Daddy pulled up breathing hard and turning red as a tomato, but the cubbies were going up that time. I could finally see Mr. Tozier. He was pushing. He was all red too. Two tomato faces. We just needed green lettuce for one of mommy's salads. Icky. I giggled.

“Is this funny to you, Frankie?” Daddy asked, breathing really hard. I nodded, still smiling, and he made an even funnier crinkly face. I loved my daddy so much. He was so funny.

After Mr. Tozier pushed all the way up, daddy moved over to help push. Push, push push. Then it was all the way up, but the stuff was still all over the ground in a big mess. Mr. Tozier was definitely gonna get grounded.

“Thank you.” Mr. Tozier said, but he turned around and he slipped on a notebook like it was a banana peel. Woosh . He tumbled and bumbled into my daddy and they both did a funny dance before falling down on the ground. Mr. Tozier was crushing my daddy cause he was way bigger.

Oh, no!

Wait, no. This was perfect! They were basically hugging! That's what people that love each other very much do. It was working! I was a love genius.

Chapter 8: Friends??

They both got up really fast and rubbed down their clothes like mommy did to me right before school. “Are you in love now?” I asked because I was getting very tired of waiting.

Daddy got a weird expression on his face like when he told me he wasn't gonna be with mommy anymore. I started to feel scared because I didn't know why he looked at me like that. “Oh my god.” Daddy said.

“No, Frankie.” Mr. Tozier smiled, so that made me feel a little better, but it meant I didn't do it yet.

“Is that what all this has been about?” Daddy said. I nodded. “You want me to be in love with your teacher?” I nodded again. I really did want that. “Oh my god.” He closed his eyes really tight. “I am so sorry, Mr. Tozier. This is all very embarrassing. Maybe we could talk in the other room?”

Mr. Tozier nodded. “Just for a minute, okay? I don't have an aide right now.”

“Sure, that's fine.” Daddy said.

Mr. Tozier looked at us kids and put two fingers from his eyes then to point at us. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do.” We all giggled because it was funny, but I felt bubbly in my stomach. Maybe my plan would never ever work.

Daddy went with Mr. Tozier out the door. When the door shut, I ran up and poked my eye under the door. I couldn't see anything really, but I could hear a tiny bit better.

“I'm so sorry about this.” Daddy said. “He must be taking the divorce really hard.” I was not.

“I understand. I'm flattered he seems to want me as his step parent. Maybe that means I'm doing something right.” Yeah! The rightest ever!

“I hope this isn't overstepping telling you this, but he found out I was divorcing his mother because I'm gay. I didn't tell him, but we must not have been careful enough talking about it.” Gay? No. It was cause Daddy liked boys! That's all. Gay was something bad mommy talked about.

There was time with no talking, but I couldn't see why. “Oh.” Mr. Tozier said. Good, they were still there.

“Oh God, it was totally over stepping, wasn't it?”

“No, no. Actually, I was thinking maybe he somehow found out I'm gay and that's why he picked me.” Gay? What was it with all this gay?

There was another long time with no talking. “Oh.” Daddy said.

“Sorry, maybe now I'm the one talking too much. I do that a lot actually. I thought since you were too, it might be okay, but I promise I would not usually tell a parent of one of my students that.”

It sounded like Daddy laughed a little but lighter than usual because he usually sounded like a cackling witch. “It's fine. It's nice to not be the only one. I wasn't exactly in the community before now.”

“Well, I'm free to talk anytime after 3pm.” Mr. Tozier said. Daddy did that different laugh again. Like a kitten laughing. It was weird.

“What are you saying?” Daddy asked. Mr. Tozier was pretty clear. That's because that's when school ended.

“If you want to come here around then or shoot me an email that would be fine by me. It's easy to feel lonely when you're entering a brand new community. I'll be your first gay friend. If you want. No pressure.” Gay.. hmm. If daddy and Mr. Tozier were gay it couldn't be bad.

“That does sound nice.” Daddy said. “I’ll think about it.”

“Frankie is a great kid.” True. “Maybe if you have a talk with him about it, now that we know what's been going on, he'll stop. Divorce is confusing for a kid.” Mr. Tozier said all that, but I was not confused at all. I knew exactly what was going on.

“Sometimes it's best, that's what my therapist says. I actually kind of wish my parents divorced.” Daddy said. That was weird. Daddy only had one parent. Grandma. She pinched my cheeks too hard.

Mr. Tozier laughed a little. “Is that so?”

“Oh, no. That was totally too much, right? You don't need my life story.” Daddy said his voice was going fast.

“It's totally fine. What are friends for?” Mr. Tozier said.

“Thanks.” Daddy said. Friends? Friends?? That's not in love at all! Friends are what I was with Hank. That was not going to end with Mr. Tozier being my other daddy. What a nightmare!

Though, I guess it wasn't so bad. Daddy needed friends and I really really liked Hank and all my other friends. I guess if that made daddy happy, I could be happy too. What are sons for? I wanted to be a great son. That's why I did it all in the first place! Daddy and Mr. Tozier were gonna be good friends and that was that!

Chapter 9: That Was Fun, but I'm Bored Now

After that day, daddy came to get me from school all the time! It was so great! I guess mommy didn't mind staying at home and relaxing while daddy picked me up. He really was best friends with Mr. Tozier. That was great.

They talked and talked. Blah, blah, blah I had important stuff to do. At first, I listened in. I'm a growing, curious boy, but it was all just boring stuff I didn't care about.

Still, I loved daddy having a friend and coming to get me. I got to play with all the best toys all by myself. Daddy did the weird kitten giggles, but I was happy his witch laugh came back sometimes too. He must have been getting more comfy with Mr. Tozier. That's nice. Mr. Tozier would say something very funny and daddy would punch him in the arm and do his witch cackles.

After they talked and talked, sometimes they would both come over and pretend to be giant monsters that came to get me and pretend destroyed the play kitchen. I laughed and laughed as they chased me.

One day, Mr. Tozier almost knocked the cubbies over again. Daddy got really upset and did a karate chop in the air talking about safety blah blah blah , but Mr. Tozier showed daddy that it only came off the wall if he flipped this switch thing. Cool! He clicked it and daddy squeaked like a scared mouse, but Mr. Tozier clicked it back before the cubbies crushed us all forever.

Life was pretty great until we started staying at school later and later and I was missing my favorite shows like teenage mutant ninja turtles. I liked watching it before we had to eat dinner. “Come on, daddy.” I said because we'd been at school for at least sixty hours.

“Just a minute.” Daddy said. He was playing a boring card game with Mr. Tozier. Mr. Tozier kept losing. That was good. Daddy deserved to win since I always beat him at all the actually fun games.

Mr. Tozier put down his cards showing all their faces which was probably bad because daddy could see all of them in his hand. “It's okay, we shouldn't keep him.”

“But,” Daddy started. No, daddy. Time to go.

Mr. Tozier smiled wide with lots of teeth. “Maybe you can beat me at cards at my place sometime?”

Daddy smiled a little too, but just like a little c, not with lots of teeth. “Really?”

“I think it's a good time.” Mr. Tozier said. It was a good time because it was the time I would usually be watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Daddy took a long time to respond, then when he did, he was quiet like a whisper. A whisper for no reason. “Okay. Frankie will be with his mom all day tomorrow.”

“It's okay daddy, you can see Mr. Tozier without me.” I said. I thought it was nice of me to say that. They were trying to find a time that I was free too, but I can't always be babysitting them. Daddy had to learn to hang out with his friends by himself once in a while.

Daddy and Mr. Tozier smiled. “Thanks Frankie.” Daddy said.

Mr. Tozier messed up my hair which is good cause I liked it best messy. “Yeah, buddy. I'm glad we have your blessing.”

“Nobody sneezed.” I said. I didn't say bless you to anybody, but maybe Mr. Tozier forgot that. They both laughed.

“So, tomorrow?” Daddy asked Mr. Tozier.

Mr. Tozier nodded a lot like a weird bird. Big bird, haha . “I'll text you the address.”

Daddy spent too long just waving at Mr. Tozier, so I pushed him along. It was like he was a broken toy just waving and waving. “Are you okay, daddy? Why are you doing that? It's weird.”

Daddy pulled back his hands and started to walk finally. “You think?” He asked me for advice, which was good because I gave the best advice.

“Definitely.” I said.

Chapter 10: Best Matchmaker: Frankie Kaspbrak

Daddy didn't pick me up every day after that, but still a lot. Mr. Tozier always went from happy to sad when he saw my mommy, but lots of people did that. I was happy if it was daddy or mommy because when it wasn't daddy every time anymore, it got to be fun again to stay at school and play with all the fun toys all by myself. Sometimes I wished I had Hank to play with too, but at least there wasn't a line for playing with the kitchen.

There was one day that Mr. Tozier was acting weird all day long, and he was just smiling at me, but not happy, more like scared. Weirdo. When Daddy came Mr. Tozier didn't seem surprised like he usually did. He'd say like ‘what a nice surprise' usually when daddy came. This day, he just lifted his hand in the tiniest wave I ever saw and daddy just did it right back. What was going on!

“Hey, Frankie?” Daddy said.

I felt my face scrunch up. “What?”

“We would like to talk to you about something, kiddo.” Mr. Tozier said. He kept rubbing his hands together. Weird, weird, weird .

“Fine.” I said and I plopped down on the beanbag. I liked the orange and blue one best and since it was only me, I could have whichever one I wanted.

Mr. Tozier and daddy pulled over two chairs. The one daddy pulled made a screech sound at first. “Sorry.” Daddy made a squeaky sound with his mouth instead of the chair and lifted it up to wobble like a penguin the rest of the way over.

“So, Frankie.” Daddy coughed and Mr. Tozier put a hand on daddy's shoulder. I was starting to get freaked out! What could be so important! I was scared because maybe my fish died cause he wasn't looking so good when he was napping on the top of the water in the morning.

“Gosh, just spit it out already.” I said, wiggling in the beanbag. If they were gonna tell me something bad I wanted it to be over so I could cry and get done crying in time for my show.

“Sorry, um,” Daddy coughed again.

“Are you sick daddy?” Oh no. Maybe daddy was gonna die! That's way worse than a fish.

“No, um, I,” He coughed again. No.

I started getting my crying out early. I cried and cried and yelled. “Daddy's dying! You're gonna say you're dying.” I cried some more just to be sure I'd get it all out.

“No. I'm fine.” Daddy said. “I'm not sick.” He said that, but his face was all red and Mr. Tozier looked worried. He was gonna lose his best best friend and my best best daddy. I cried louder.

“We're in love!” Mr. Tozier said and squeezed my daddy's shoulder more.

What?

What!

WHAT?!

I hopped out of the bean bag like a bunny. “What?” I said.

“It's true.” Daddy held his hands out. “I'm not dying. We're just in love and going to be starting a new relationship. We wanted you to know. I know this is probably strange for you, but-”

I opened my eyes wide. It worked. I started laughing and daddy looked more worried, but my new future daddy smiled wide. IT WORKED! Of course it worked. I never gave up and it worked because I'm the best matchmaker in the whole world! “You’re welcome.” I said.

“What?” Daddy said, but Mr. Tozier Daddy laughed with me. He picked me up and spun me around until I was dizzy and daddy started laughing too. This was definitely going to be so super fun! I was glad they had me because if it wasn't for me, daddy might have been alone forever and ever and Mr. Tozier wouldn't have a great and very cute new son!

Chapter 11: Epilogue: My New Plan!

My name is Frankie Kaspbrak and now I'm seven whole years old and very mature. After helping my daddies fall in love, I helped them decide to get married too! Wow, what would they do without me?

The most important thing was, what was I going to be? Probably best man, ring bearer, flower boy, and guy that says you may kiss the bride! Though, they'd have to say something else this time. Would they say, you may kiss the groom? Maybe we should skip the gross kissing altogether. Ew.

My original, first daddy said I could only pick one and probably I couldn't be the priest without lots more work and school, and I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to tell them to kiss anyways. Papa Richie (that used to be Mr. Tozier) said I should live my dream and I could be everything and do the wedding as a one boy show. That might be a lot of work though. Maybe I'd be the flower boy because I like flowers and if I lost the ring, I'd probably be in big trouble.

Flower boy it is! I got lots of pretty flowers that I picked out and I helped my daddies pick off all the petals to put in a little white basket. I smooshed em when I took them off, but Papa Richie said it was okay cause I'd just be throwing them. I was excited to make a big flower mess.

Mommy wasn't gonna come to the wedding. I told her that was stupid because it would be fun and the best time ever. She thought I should still call Papa Richie, Mr. Tozier, but that would be confusing since he wasn't even my teacher anymore. Plus, my name might get to be Frankie Kaspbrak-Tozier! They said I could decide, but I was still thinking about it. It sounded pretty nice.

After all that was figured out, I had time to think about the real most important thing. Since I did such a wonderful job with my first plan of getting daddy and Papa Richie to fall in love, I decided I could basically do anything. It was a lot of power, but Spiderman says to use it for only good things, so that's what I was gonna do.

It was time for the wedding, and I was hiding under the biggest table with Hank. He was my plus one. We took a break from eating the cake that we took from the back of the cake so no one would notice. We had icing all over our fingers, but we could just wipe it on the table cloths, so it was fine. “Okay, Hank. I have a new really amazing plan.”

Hank sighed loud. “It better not be you getting stuck again. I was worried.”

I shook my head a lot. “No, no. Hank. I'm gonna get a baby brother.”

Hank smiled. “Is your mommy pregnant?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Hank. Are we at my mommy's wedding right now? Gosh.”

He looked confused. Hank, you gotta think about these things. “But, who?” He asked me.

“My daddy is gonna have a baby with Papa Richie.” I said. “I’m gonna make it happen.”

Hank's mouth opened wide. “Woah.” He said.

“So, you're in?” I held out my pinky.

He wrapped my pinky with his pinky. “I'm in.” Hank was the best. Maybe I'd marry him one day too. He'd be pretty good at helping me with my plans for forever.

The plan was ready. Here it goes. I had all my flower petals in the basket and I tossed them and smiled and looked cute and everyone was looking at me. Then, Hank was free to go up to the stage. He whispered the secret plan to the priest (that's what they're called) and gave him a bag filled with a special surprise.

I smiled from ear to ear! It was all gonna happen! Just like last time! Daddy and Papa Richie got up to the front and I stayed where I was supposed to stand, then it happened.

The priest smiled. “This is a little unusual.” He said. “But a little boy told me you all had a surprise you wanted to share.”

“A surprise?” Daddy asked.

Papa Richie said, “Okay, sure, show us the surprise.”

He pulled out the surprise from the bag. It was a baby doll and long paper that said, ’it’s a boy' that I very secretly took from the store when I was with mommy. “Congratulations?” The priest said.

Daddy stared and turned red, then more red, but an angry red. He yelled. “Frankie Kaspbrak-Tozier!” It sounded nice, just like I thought it would! I told my daddy I decided that's what I wanted to be called just that morning, and I was happy he remembered. Papa Richie tried to cover his mouth, but I knew he was laughing.

I didn't actually think that would work of course, it takes a few tries like last time, but, eventually, I was definitely getting that little brother!

[axcel-lucci]

Secret...?

Trafalgar Law x fem! reader

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, this is part 6, part 7

About 3 days passed by, it seems like Lucifer and Dice has no intention of ever making up soon...

One would literally walk out if the other enters, Lucifer would be seen walking around the manor at the dead of night, which isn't a pleasant sight...

On top of that, Dice is barely seen anymore, not even eating his own food, and Lucifer would just tell the maid to make him something even though he himself was capable and free to do so...

Just... Messy.

La wsat beside (y/n) on the bed, telling her what's going on despite knowing she may or may not hear... But he had a feeling she'd want to know at least...

The next day however, the two was arguing again.

What is it you may ask? No one knows.

The two spoke in another tongue, another language. And from the looks of it, one small thing could make them snap and jump at one another.

Luckily, both can control themselves so... They just walked in two different paths.

One out the door while the other casually jumped out of the window.

You'd know which is which...

"Does (y/n) deal with this all the time??" Law muttered, feeling sorry for his soon to be wife...

The door soon opened...

Lo and behold, (y/n) walked in with a confused look, "what the hell is with those two?? Cats and dogs? More like dragon and lion." She muttered, she held her side a bit as she closed the door behind her.

It made everyone jump at her appearance

"(Y/n)! You shouldn't be getting up! You need to rest!" Law said as he was immediately at her side

"Relax, law..." She laughed softly, "I'm fine."

"Your dad-..." He sighed and shook his head, "Dice-ya said you needed to rest, and as a doctor myself, you definitely should."

It made her pout with a huff, "I'll be fine... Jeez... Is he STILL that protective??? I'm an adult for fuck's sake..."

Law shook his head with a chuckle as he helped her sit beside him, "it's not a matter of protectiveness, even I know you should rest because your heart is still healing."

"What even happened...? I remember getting stabbed by that bag of holes."

Law hummed for a bit, before looking at the crew then back at (y/n). He told her what has happened through the time she was unconscious.

After telling her all this, her expression was... Scary.

Well... She had a blank expression while law told her, it's like she knew it was bound to happen.

"Ahh well, I knew dad would find out... But I thought they talked about it in the past." She shrugged, "still... I knew they had their disagreements, but not enough for one to jump out the window. Eh, I knew truth would haunt the both of them..."

"So... You knew this was bound to happen??" Law hummed

"Obviously. Not every relationship is a perfect one, well, I guess it's time For me to lock them in a closet... Again."

"You've... Done that before??" Shachi said, looking at her.

"How do you think they lasted??" She shrugged, "anyway... Where did they put the concoctions again...? Considering they've never once redecorated in the times I'm alive..."

"O-oh..."

She stood up and walked over to the kitchen, going to the last drawer aat the far side of the room, it was a safe, entering the code, it opened and revealed some rather shady bottles of liquid

"Heat are you trying to do? Remember, your heart is still healing" law said as she took out a small bottle of said liquid and closed the safe up.

"Just trying to make my parents locked in a room." She hummed, "it worked thrice, it'll work again."

Law hummed softly as he watched her make a drink, it looked relatively inviting... Even he would drink it.

"Come on, if he locked the door, can you hold this for me?" She smiled at him as she carried the drink to the lower parts of the manor with him following her.

"What are you going to do?" He asks again

"Eh, the usual... Don't worry, I won't kill myself in the process" she giggled as they reached a door that says "go away, Lucifer."

"Looks like it's locked... Hold it" she hands him the drink and he took said drink and she stretched a bit

She then kicked the door down, causing it to fly off its hinges.

He knew she was good at kicking things down, but not like this.

"What the-?!" Dice groaned, inside was his lab.

Big tubes on the walls, connected by smaller tubes littering the floor.

The casual "mad scientist" pack...

The two walked in as (y/n) took the drink from Law and hands it to Dice

"You're awake! Go back to bed, young lady! You need to rest!" Dice said as he took the drink

"Eh. Feeling better." She shrugs, "can you drink that? I made that in the past... I think it's quite neat."

Dice hummed and looked at the drink, inspecting it and even smelling it for any substance, "this doesn't have anything in it, does it?"

"Why the hell would I fucking poison an immortal asshole like you?" She groaned as Dice sighed in frustration

"Whatever..." He rolled his eyes and drank it, "now... You go back to bed."

She shrugs and looked at law

Dice could feel his world start to spin then realized they haven't changed the password to the safe in the kitchen, "you..."

Before Dice could even do anything, he collapsed to the floor.

Both from exhaustion and the drink

She rolled her sleeves up and picked him up in her arms

...

"Can you distract him for me?" (Y/n) asked as they stood outside of Lucifer's office.

"How the hell am I supposed to distract a man like him?!" Law was taken a back.

Distract that man?? That man's more serious than him!

"Just... Ask him Sora questions. I'm sure you're good at that, yeah?" She smiled at him, "you can do it"

"Sora...?"

"Yeah. He's been here since the creation of man, one of his favourite things to do is read the Sora, warrior of the sea series..."

Law swallowed thickly and nodded, "alright..."

He knocked on the door as Lucifer opened the door and let him in, "you need anything?" He asks as he went back to his desk.

"(Y/n) mentioned you also read Sora?" He smirked when Lucifer perked up and immediately snapped at him

"You know the story too?!" Lucifer excitedly gasped.

"Yeah... It's a big hit at-"

"North blue, right?? The creator is a national at north blue, so only the ones who grew in north blue knew of it, but I heard the east blue also knows?? I'm not sure."

Law chuckled as he nodded

Lucifer then went on a cute little rant about in depth look at some characters, even the background characters law didn't care about until now.

"Honestly, what was germa thinking, attacking Sora like that at volume 40.3... right??"

"Yeah... It still kinda irks me that German thinks they could corner Sora like that..." Law hummed before seeing (y/n) hit Lucifer with a metal bat, making him immediately knocked out, "holy shit... (Y/n)!"

"Relax, he's a demon... He won't wake up any time soon" she hummed.

....

Throwing Lucifer inside a closet with Dice all tied up in one corner

"(Y/n)... Get me out of these." He growled

"Ask him" she pointed at Lucifer as she held the door, "make out. I don't care if you do it literally or metaphorically. You're killing yourselves." She rolled her eyes and went to close the door

"Didn't know you cared so much." Dice smirked darkly, still swallowed by anger and frustration

"I'm sure you'll thank me." She huffed and slammed the door shut, locking it.

"How are they gonna get out?" Shachi asked

(Y/n) placed the key on the nearby drawer, "they'll find a way. They always does." She hummed with a shrug and started walking off

"So uhm..." Bepo muttered, "what... Happened? Between you three..."

Everyone swallowed thickly when she paused and stood there with her back towards them, a tense atmosphere surrounding (y/n)

She sighed, relieving herself a bit.

"I guess I do owe you an explanation..."

...

She sighed deeply, looking at her hands...

It was eerily quiet around the table, other than the occasional windows creaking and the birds outside... As well as the wind howling as the night approaches.

Law noticed how tense she was and held her hand firmly making her look at him, "take your time... You don't have to tell us everything." He smiled making her smile as well

"Thanks... But I know I need to take it out someday..." She sighed deeply.

He nods and held her hand tighter, "just know that whatever your past is... I'll always love you" he smiled again

She laughed softly, "I... Thank you..." She sighed again but this time with a determined look on her face, "well..."

Law only held her hand as she breathes to calm her still healing heart.

"I grew up here, I'm sure you know. Growing up... I've never left this manor. Well, at least not without my parents... I mean I understand, people used to call me a 'beautiful child' for some reason... And they're pretty protective..." She muttered, "but... I did grow up alright, even without anyone but the maids, butlers, my parents, and sometimes my parents' workers on some occasions... Though... Dad is always down at his lab, I think I only see him during meals and maybe a whole day once a month. I wouldn't blame him though, he's pretty busy. And besides, father is always there, so it's hardly lonely around here."

"Also... Let's just say father taught me some... Wacky things, at first it was how to escape seastone prism, but it slowly grew to things like how to control my alcohol intake as well as dodging some shady things like party drugs... It was pretty useful now. Cause... You know... I'm a girl?" She shrugged

"But how...?" Ikkaku muttered, "he said he taught you stuff like drugs and weed... Like... How were you able to control them?"

"Ah... The thing is, father never raised me as a girl, but he raised me as a child. No gender... So... He'd literally hit me at the back of the head as a lesson... I can still remember the first time he did it, I don't hate him for that. It wasn't even that hard, just a 'gentle' hit that made me spill everything." She shrugged, "though... Dad wasn't too fond of him doing that, so he just pinches my cheek instead..."

"I mean... Does it hurt?"

"Want me to hit you at the back of the head right now?" she muttered before shaking her head, "the thing is... He taught me things I still use. Like the things I just said, controlling my liquor and resistance to drugs, as well as the scent of poison and how to hold a gun. He taught me all sorts of things. I joined the gang when I was 15... And almost immediately, father placed me right beside him since dad was the gang's medical and scientific lead..."

"Eh? That's... So young..."

"I worked for him as a spy, I've never really had blood on my hands because father forbade me from ever entering any possible messes, so I was never really... Killed anyone." She shrugged, "that's when you guys came in... Father heard news of an ope-ope no mi user is a pirate, so... As usual, he sent me as a spy."

"You spied on us?!" The crew gasped, Law remains unmoved and listened intently

"I know... But... At first I thought you guys were just some wacky group... I guess one would grow too attached and... I... Failed to serve my purpose... Father saw it coming... So he had me retreat..." She mumbled

"But... Why didn't you?" Law asked as she looked down then at him

It was enough to say such words that even the crew was silent and knew what she meant, he then placed a hand on her cheek and caressed it lovingly, "then...? What happened?"

"Father called... He told me to come back... Or not come back at all... He made me choose between family or... You... I guess it made me mad and cursed him..." She muttered and rubbed the back of her neck, " I told him that in no circumstance will I ever want to see him... That... He was no longer my father... Even he said that I was no longer his child... I... I knew he says such irrational things when mad... But..."

Law hummed and hugged her tightly, she didn't even notice she started crying until she felt his shirt dampen with hot tears from her...

"It's okay... It's going to be okay..." He mumbled and pulled her into his lap.

"And yet... Here I am... Childhood home... With the same people..." She mumbled as her voice started to tremble, "and father... It's like what he said didn't matter... It's like he hadn't said it at all... But I guess I did kinda start it..."

______

@jadedrrose finally putting the idea you have! I thought I couldn't put it in there 😬😬