#i need to call her this week because i’m running out of medication

[doriantomybasil]

the thing about my antidepressants is that they were prescribed for my migraines as a second-line preventive medication and it’s not exactly working but it’s not not working either like i still get migraines sometimes but they’re not as frequent and not as bad but the other thing is that i’m feeling so much better emotionally, happier is not the word i would use but i’m not fucking miserable all the time and my anxiety is better and i didn’t freak out about my exam today but i know that i would have if i wasn’t on medication and i don’t want to stop taking it but what the fuck do i say to my doctor? do i lie to her about it working for my migraines? or do i tell her the truth? i don’t think she would care much about my mental well being, she’s my neurologist not a psychiatrist but i really don’t want to go back to being a lonely miserable shell of a person

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Slow Dancing and Slow Mornings

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Logan and you have been kidnapped and you come to find out Logan has been in love with you for twelve years.

Disclaimer: Mentions of kidnapping, explosions, hints of torture, love confessions, Logan gives you a massage. Mostly fluff, little bit of angst, and slow dancing to familiar records. Not proof read.

“What?” 

You turned in your chair to try and look at Logan, who wasn’t looking in your direction at all. 

The prick stood opposite both of you and just smiled. “What? He didn’t tell you?”

“You…you love me?”

The prick nodded as he placed his hands behind his back. “Has done. For Twelve years.”

“Shut up.” Logan said to him. 

“Logan?”

Finally, he looked at you. His expression was twisted with pain. 

“You love me?”

Logan nodded. “Have done for twelve years. Thanks for noticing.”

There was no point trying to deny it now. He had loved you for twelve years, and now you were both about to die. 

“What didn’t you tell me?”

Logan shrugged. “There was never a good time.”

“A good time?”

“Seems our courageous hero-”

Despite your hands being tied behind your back, you waved the yapper off. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll get back to you. “You never told me because there was never a good time?!”

Logan was a little shocked. “We’re five minutes from dying and you’re mad at me right now?”

“Yeah, sorta! You’ve been in love with me for twelve years and you never told me!”

“It’s not like we had years of spare-”

You shook your head. “Don’t bullshit me, Logan. You had plenty of time to tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Hell, you had twelve damn years.”

Your captor sighed as he crossed his arms. “Perhaps you two can argue-”

“It’s not like I can do anything about it now!”

You looked at Logan, unsure of what to say. Fuck you? You could have done something twelve years ago? Hell, you could have done something last week? Go fuck yourself?

Logan watched as you decided what you were going to say to him. And then the cogs stopped turning in your head and your gaze focused on his soul for a moment, before it became lighter. 

“Yeah there is.”

Logan was confused, but just as he was about to ask what, you continued. 

“You can tell me if we survive this.”

“Sur-survive what?”

Then a loud crash came and everything turned white. 

Slowly, you came to. 

The blinding flash and loud crash had sent a shock wave throughout the entire room and somewhere in the rubble, you were lying down, your ears ringing and your head feeling heavier than ever. 

You tried your best to make out what everything was. The stone bricks beside you, the dirt beneath your body, the rebar poles sticking out here and there in front of you. 

Groaning, you stood before pressing a hand to your head. Bringing it back down, you found an imprint of blood in the centre of your palm. 

In the distance, you could see Storm and the others making their way over to Logan. You could have run to him. You were about to. 

Then the rubble moved. 

Your kidnapper flew through the air and towards the woods. 

So you followed. 

Logan groaned as he got up, Storm’s hand on his back. Immediately, he started looking for you. And he found you. Flying towards the forest. 

He called out your name but you were too far away to hear him. 

“Logan-Logan, we’ll go. You need medical attention.” Jean told him. But he shrugged her off. 

“I don’t need medical attention.”

With your head pounding, you landed in the general area you’d seen him land. It was a lot quieter now. The lights from the jet were barely visible through the thickness of the shade. 

And just as you turned your back, you were sent flying to the ground. 

“You still think you can beat me?!”

You groaned as you found the power to stand. “I’m still trying, aren’t I?”

“Just give up. You won’t be able to stop me.”

“Urgh!” You turned around on your heels and looked at him. “Can I at least stop you from talking?”

The prick just laughed. “Let's see if you can try and fight long enough to make this interesting.”

And you tried. You got a few of your own hits in, sending him flying through the branches and down ditches. But with your pounding head and the pain racking through your body with each hit you took, post being buried by rubble. 

Once more, you were thrown against a tree and fell into the dirt beneath it. By the time you opened your eyes again, you were met with his figure walking towards you. 

“It’s a pity really.” The pain you’d suffered from being tied in the chair a mere fifteen minutes ago twisted inside your body again, only getting stronger by the second. “You didn’t get to tell him you feel the same.”

You managed to catch your breath for a moment. “He knows…”

Your body was gasping for another breath, begging to push the pain away. “He knows.”

The man above you gave you a twisted smile before he twisted your inside a little more. “But he’ll never know how much, will he? How long you went, wishing he’d feel the same. Who knows, maybe I’ll do you a favour and tell him for you once I’m finished with you here.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “It’s okay.”

You watched as the man stood above you went from holding all the power, to holding nothing but confusion. 

“I’ll tell him myself.”

As Logan kept running, he was shouting out your name, Storm hot on his tail calling out his. But just as he caught your scent, your colour of power exploded and spread through the whole of the forest. It was strong enough to knock both himself and Storm back. 

And as he stabled Storm, he looked in what he guessed was your direction. 

“Logan, no-”

“Y/N!”

Logan kept running, his breath sharp against his lungs. You had to be okay. You had to be fighting back. You had to have won. 

But as he reached the centre point, he looked around. The smell of dirt and imminent rain clouds messed with his senses as he constantly whipped around in a circle. And then he saw it on the ground. 

The necklace you always wore. A locket lay open on the floor, face down. You never let him know what was on the inside.

Picking it up, he brushed the dirt from it and found what was inside. 

A picture of everyone lay on one side. 

And a picture of him on the other. 

He remembered that picture. He remembered you and him being told to stand together in front of the record player stand. At the time, you’d both shared the same neighbour and attended the same dinner party. And after a few glasses of alcohol and some good food, you’d all been dancing to a couple records. 

He didn’t even know you’d owned a copy of that photo. 

Folding the small picture back, he replaced the photo and snapped it shut. 

“I can’t find her.”

Storm’s expression saddened as she slowly approached him. “She’s gone, Logan.”

He looked around again. 

“Logan. She’s gone.”

Only when he turned back to face Storm did he feel the tears on his cheek. But he couldn’t face her. His eyes kept looking for you. “She’s-”

Logan’s voice broke with pain. “She’s not.”

Storm placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Logan, she’s gone. You and I both felt it-”

Storm watched as Logan’s head snapped in the opposite direction. 

“Logan, she’s gone.”

Then he pulled himself from her and started walking away. 

“Logan, where are you going?”

“I heard something.”

And he did hear something. 

A few moments later, Storm watched from behind Logan as you climbed up a ditch. 

Your face, hair and clothes were stained with blood, ash, dirt and moss. Grasping onto a nearby tree, you took in heavy breaths until you finally looked up.

“Medic!” Storm shouted. 

Logan took off running towards you. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You pushed off from the tree and hobbled towards him. “Just shut up and hug me.”

A few more strides and Logan had you wrapped up in his arms, tightly. All he could do was breath you in, feeling your skin bruise under his fingertips as he clutched onto you like a lifeline. 

“You’re okay? Are you okay?” Pulling back from you, but keeping your body flushed against his as best as he could, Logan looked you over. 

You had a cut on your head and other small scratches. He couldn’t check your body over due to your clothes, but he did try and feel for any more wet patches of blood. 

Then you chuckled. 

“What?”

“Isn’t there something you need to tell me, Soldier?”

Logan’s gaze ran over your face for a second too long as his brain fought against itself, trying to convince him you were okay, real and most importantly, alive. 

Then he remembered. 

“I love you,” he breathed. “I have loved you for twelve years. I love you.”

Taking his face in your hands, you looked him over as you smiled. “I love you, too.”

It took Logan a minute before he finally gathered the courage to kiss you. He didn’t want to hurt you. His kiss peppered away across your cheek, down your neck and onto your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you more, holding you in a hug close to him. 

A medic was closing in and Logan turned around, you still in his arms. “Come on, we need to get you checked. What happened to-”

“He’s taken care of.”

You looked at Storm. “At the bottom of the ditch. I don’t think he’s gonna remember what happened for a while.”

Storm and Cyclops headed off in that direction whilst your own hands brought Logan’s attention back to you. 

“Stay with me?”

“I’m never leaving you again.”

Then he kissed you. 

“Come on.”

Two days later, you were fully showered and practically boiled clean of any evidence from what had happened when you had been kidnapped. Your clothes now consisted of long pyjama bottoms, an old t-shirt and a hoodie that you had stolen from Logan’s closet. 

The amount of energy your, quite literally, explosive fight had taken from you had been a lot. And it was clear the next couple of weeks would be filled with a lot of sleep and a lot of rest. 

Whenever you woke up, it was ninety percent guaranteed Logan would be asleep beside you. And when he wasn’t and you went in search of him, you found him in the kitchen, cooking. 

“Here, eat.”

He’d place a bowl or plate of whatever he had made in front of you at the counter before sitting beside you, pulling your chair until it was practically between his legs as he sat turned to you. 

A week later, you had woken up snuggling into the crook of Logan’s neck and you stayed there for a while. Until you remembered you needed to shower. 

“Do you think you can stand for that long?”

“Probably.”

Logan kissed the top of your cheekbone as he lay beside you. “I’ll draw you a bath.”

And he did. 

And the minute you stepped into it, you relaxed against the hot water. Between your fingertips, you let your power flow around your fingers. But you jumped when you felt a familiar presence sit behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. 

“You need to save your energy.”

“All I’ve done for a week is sleep, Logan.”

“You nearly levelled a forest. It’s going to take a while.”

With his thumbs firm against your shoulders, Logan slowly massaged the tension away. A small moan left your lips as you moved your neck, giving him more access to your muscles. 

Logan chuckled. “Like that?”

“Love it.”

Logan smiled as he leaned down and kissed the top of your shoulder and behind your ear before continuing to massage away the ache.

Finally finishing in the tub, Logan held up a towel and tried his best to look away as you stood up and wrapped yourself in it. 

“You okay?”

“Yep,” Logan strained. “Just…concentrating.”

You laughed a little and blushed. “Thank you for running me a bath.”

Logan looked at you and smiled before you pulled him in and kissed him. “But next time, feel free to join me in it.”

With another quick kiss, you smirked as you walked away leaving Logan both a little in shock and a little embarrassed. He might have loved you for twelve years but sometimes he had to remind himself that you loved him back and you both now had the freedom to…do…that. 

A few hours later, after having dinner together, Logan went in search of you. You weren’t in his room, the library, outside or even the living area. 

But as he walked back past his room, he heard a familiar sound. 

Floating out from your room were the faint sounds of a record playing on the record player. Carefully pushing the door open wider, Logan smiled when he saw you. Fast asleep, curled up on your side, the record had lulled you to sleep. 

With a soft smile, Logan closed the door and reached to turn the volume down a little before approaching you. 

You felt your bed dip for a minute, but you had already recognised his footsteps and scent from the hallway. And you felt yourself smile and reach out for him. He chuckled. 

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” you curled into his arms as he lay down with you. “But then I remembered my human heater.”

“Oh, is that my new name?”

“Yep,” you replied, already hearing the smile in his voice and in his heart. 

“At least I come in useful for something.”

You smiled. “I can think of a couple other things, too.”

Logan smiled and pulled you up to him a little more. “I’m sure you can.”

Not long after that, you fell asleep. 

And when you woke up, your back was flushed against Logan’s chest, your legs tangled in his and his arms wrapped safely around you. It was still dark outside, but there was a little winter sun peaking out, way beyond the trees. 

“Where are you going?” Logan’s tired voice asked you as you sat up, his hand by your waist. 

Looking back at his bed head and tired eyes, you smiled. Reaching over to your desk drawer, you pulled out your film camera and snapped a picture. Logan groaned, putting his head between your pillows as you chuckled and stood up, placing your camera on the desk once more. 

As you stood and rounded the bed towards the record player by your door, Logan reached over and picked up your camera taking a couple of candid shots of his own, of you, as you looked for a new record and placed it on. 

“What?” Logan asked with a tired smirk as he lowered the camera. 

You smiled tiredly. “Dance with me.”

Logan smiled and gave a fake groan as he pushed himself up from his back and onto his feet, leaving the camera beside your bed. 

Walking to you, Logan pulled you to him, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck whilst his hand folded around your other and, holding you by your waist, he leaned into you. Swaying with each other, you let the sounds of the record float over you, giving you both a sense of deja vu. 

Twelve years ago you’d made friends with each other and danced at a small dinner party to the very same song. Then you’d been dragged into taking a photo together to have a memory made in time. A few hours later, you had asked for a copy of the photograph of you and Logan. 

You hadn’t really known why. You’d only known Logan a couple of weeks. But something told you, you needed a copy of that photograph. And around two years later, you realised why as you folded it in half and placed it inside your locket. 

One Logan had fixed for you one Christmas when the clasp had broken. 

And, when you had wandered into Logan’s room, in search of his hoodie, you had found a small tin box. A tin box you had opened to find it containing a couple of different sentimental things, including a couple of different photos from over the years. 

But one you knew instantly. 

Because it was the same one you carried with you every single day. 

Looking up at Logan, you found him already looking at you and your heart soared.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Leaning down, Logan pressed a kiss to your lips as his fingertips pressed into your skin through your t-shirt and hoodie. And as he lifted you a little, and spun around, you let out a small giggle. 

“Ready for breakfast?”

You smiled and nodded. “Soon. I just want to stay like this for a while.”

Logan smiled and kissed you once more, continuing to dance with you in your room barefoot, letting the sun peek out from beyond the trees before you both finally made your way downstairs for the day. 

“Okay.”

[luveline]

Bombshell reader is my queen. What would happen if she like got hold hostage or something? She’s usually so confident, I’m sure going thru that would rough her up. Would Spencer take up the more ‘active’ role and take care of her

tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k

Spencer doesn't know if you're aiming for him when you come out but he grabs you as soon as he can get his hands on you. You were running hard enough to wind him, breathless yourself as you gasp into his shoulder. He can't feel you right wearing the FBI vest, desperate to take it off. 

You won't let him go. 

It must've been bad inside to panic you like this. "Are you okay?" he asks, forcing you away to check you over. "Do you need medical?" He's mildly hysterical.

"No," you say, eyes closed, shaking your head until he lets you back into his arms. "I'm fine." 

"You don't sound fine–" 

"Spencer, I'm fine." 

Spencer can't remember the last time you called him Spencer. He's used to Spence, babe, baby, handsome. He's even used to your hand on his elbow to say hello without speaking. So no matter what you say, he knows you're not fine. 

Spencer leads you over to the back of an ambulance, where you glare at him. You've definitely never done that before. 

"I don't need medical–" 

"You have to get checked out." He's definitely never spoken to you like that. Terse, his hands on your arms to stop you from getting up. "Non-negotiable." 

Your eyes shine with betrayal while the EMTs check your vitals. You have a bruise like whiplash against your neck that's tender to the touch, wincing as they prod it with their white gloved fingers. You're acting peculiarly but not outside of the realm of reasonable. 

A car backfires somewhere in the street and you flinch. "Spence," you say, looking up at him through your lashes, "can we go?" 

He waits for a nod. "Yeah, we can go." 

The issue is that you can't stand. You push up, you blink, and you sit down hard again, making a small pained sound from the back of your throat that Spencer cant abide by. "What's wrong with her?" he asks.

"Adrenaline." The EMT squeezes your shoulder affectionately. "You're alright, hun. You can sit here until you feel ready." 

She and her partner take a break in the front of the ambulance and tell you to shout if you need help. Spencer hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at you with a quick assessment of behaviour. He finds the things that are wrong with you —shaking hands, painful contusion against your throat, obvious emotional distress, weak legs— and he runs through options on how he's going to help you. 

Spencer takes your hands into his, just a little smaller, less skinny, and way softer. He doesn't know whether he can truly smell your hand cream or if he knows the scent from the hundreds of times watching your routine. You take it from the pocket in your purse, squeeze the smallest bit from the tub, and rub it in slow circles around your palms. It calms you in your rare wounded moments, and Spencer imitates that now. He draws gentle circles into your skin, the tremble ever so slightly quelled. 

"Is it bad?" he asks you, transferring both of your hands into one. Freed, he trails the knuckles of his left hand parallel to your wicked bruise. 

"It hurts." Your eyes are glassy, your lips in a downturn that turns his heart. "Hurt my ego." 

"He got a cheap shot," Spencer says sympathetically, dipping forward to kiss your jaw just above the bruise. You go still. He worries it was the wrong thing to do, but you crane your head forward into his chest.

Your tired sigh is like a rake.

"It's okay. It's okay." He takes your hand again. "We'll ice it at the hotel. With arnica, it'll be gone in a week."

"I was really scared," you murmur. 

Sitting as you are in the back of the ambulance, he doesn't have to bend much to press your joined hands to his chest. Eyes shut, that close to one another, Spencer swears he can hear your rapid heart. 

"But you made it out. You're always going to make it out, because we have a great team and you're good at what you do. You're strong. Smart. And you're brave, because you got scared and you kept going anyway. You saved someone just now." 

You push him away without malice, your perfect eyebrows pinched up at the starts. "I thought maybe this time I wouldn't make it out. Not like me, huh?" 

Spencer sits next to you in the ambulance, sliding his fingers into yours with more confidence than he feels. "That's easily explainable. Do you know what working memory is?" 

Your stress melds fond. "No." 

"Working memory is one of the brain's systems necessary for thought and function. It's important for everything. And when you're under immense pressure, the strength of your working memory depletes– being in a high stakes situation like that, it's natural to choke. It doesn't mean you underperformed. It doesn't mean you let anyone down." 

"I never said I let someone down." 

"I worried you were thinking about it." 

"I was." Your glassy eyes have clarified. Spencer lets out a breath of relief as you raise your hand to his cheek, stroking it briefly with the back of your fingers. "I'm glad you think that, but I doubt Hotch will say the same thing." 

"Hotch will tell you well done and make you take mandatory leave for a week. We should regroup with the others." Spencer nudges you in the arm. "I'll write your paperwork if you tell me what to say." 

You drop your face into his shoulder. "I'm recovering from a traumatic event. Can't you do the muscle work?" 

"Y/N!" Hotch calls, a phone glued to his ear. "Well done. Nothing else tonight." You smile. "You can do the paperwork when you get back next week." 

"Ugh." 

"Told you. Well done, mandatory leave," Spencer says. 

"Excessive," you mutter into his arm. It takes you a few seconds to warm up, and when you do it's like groundhog day, sunshine filtering through the chill, "Thanks, handsome. For everything." 

[doberbutts]

Curious about something you mentioned in your post last week, you said that in your opinion all drugs should be legal and I’m curious about how that would be a positive at all? Like I get weed bc it’s pretty harmless but when I think of drugs I think of cocaine and heroin, which have destroyed so many lives. If it was widely available wouldn’t that end up hurting more people than helping? That’s just my opinion but I’m curious on the other side

I do think all drugs should be legal. This is said knowing that addiction runs in my family and that the only reason my older sister is my *sister* is due to drug use and addiction. Otherwise she'd be my cousin.

Making drugs illegal does not stop people from getting high. It does not stop drug related crime. And it certainly does not stop drugs from tearing families apart.

Addiction is a symptom of a larger problem. Solve the problem and the addict problem goes away. Solve the addict problem and drugs stop ruining lives and destroying families and creating massive amounts of drug related violence. Places that have roled out decriminalization strategies effectively have seen an overall reduction in crime rates across the board, a reduction in recreational drug use, and a reduction in bloodborne illness like HIV. Creating safe needle exchanges as well as safe places to get high with medical staff onhand has also created a locale where very few people die from overdose.

Most people hear "decriminalize all drugs" and think I mean a free-for-all. I don't. I think the drug market should be regulated. I don't think you should be able to get ketamine or heroin over the counter at a walmart like you can get asprin. But I think it's time to stop putting people in jail for getting high.

My aunt tore her life and her family and her health apart for years while she was addicted to heroin. My sister, her daughter, needed to be removed from her care due to the amazingly bad choices she made as a mother due to her addiction and her prioritizing drugs over the health and safety of her daughter. My aunt has had multiple heart attacks from the damage the constant drug use did to her body.

My aunt is more than a decade sober and do you know why? It's not because she got a wakeup call when her daughter was taken away, because at the time she willingly and freely signed her over to my parents because that got her "out of [her] hair". It's not because she had a heart attack, because she went right back to it the moment she was out of the hospital. It's not even because she spent time in rehab and prison, because the moment she was out she was using again.

No, my aunt got sober because her life changed. She was put on a better pain management plan. She got out of her shitty marriage to her shitty husband. She completed some education to make her more hireable so she didn't have to rely on less than safe means of paying her bills. She reconnected with my sister and reforged their relationship once she was 18. She bought her own house. She found love with someone who didn't give a shit about her past and brought out the best in her.

My aunt was a deeply unhappy person. Heroin made life more tolerable for her. Until she couldn't tolerate life without it. Until she'd do anything, anything, to get her next high.

A lot of addicts are addicts because they are self-medicating for something else and their drug of choice has chemical properties that makes their brains crave it more. If you fix the "deeply unhappy" part, you create a healthier environment for that addict to take control over their life again. Without it, they are far more likely to continue to relapse.

Knowing this, why would I then want to add the threat of prison and jailtime- life-ruining things themselves- to an addict's list of concerns?

Look up rat park sometime. In the rat paradise, drugged water was freely offered, and occasional a rat here or there would take a hit or two, but rarely enough to even get high and almost never habitually. Addiction literally didn't exist even though the rats were taking addictive substances. But the rats in cages, seperated from each other, with no enrichment, crammed into small spaces and stressed to hell? Those rats took hit after hit after hit until they overdosed and died. The addict rats were deeply unhappy. The drugs were their only escape. The paradise rats had to be lured in with sweetened drugs to even consider and even then they rejected them. The caged rats did not need sweetner, even though the drugs made the water bitter.

If we can see such a stark difference in rats having their needs met vs rats experiencing isolation and stress, what would happen if we showed human addicts the same consideration?

I think a lot better results than continuing to jail deeply unhappy and desperate people for doing the only thing they can think of to cope.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Jason Todd During Your Period

Sweetest thing

Feels so bad that you feel bad and does anything humanly possible to alleviate the pain

He knows how to handle periods since he has all the batgirls and he had to take care of his mom when he was younger

He’s the kind of boyfriend where you can just be like “hey when is my next period?” And he’d know off the top of his head

Won’t blame you for any outbursts or anything and he tries his best to not annoy you

If you get nightmares or really funky dreams on your period that wake you up, he always wakes up to make sure you’re okay

Becomes a light sleeper during your period in anticipation that you wake up and need something or are basically dying

Specifically ordered you two of those massive heating pads and let’s you lay on top of him with them

One heating pad for the back and one stomach

It’s a miracle tool yall

It’s the kind of thing where you finally get settled and you cry because it’s so amazing

NOT BEING IN PAIN AND BEING ABLE TO SLEEP IS WONDERFUL

He’d feel so bad if that happened though because he’d realize how bad you really felt in the moment

He knew you were struggling but it always hurts him to see you in pain

Stocks up on pain killers

Makes you your favorite food and brings your favorite food home from patrol because let’s be honest

No girl is sleeping on her period without her comfort 🤚

He’ll take as many naps with you as you want and do a spa day

*face mask on and hair mask in* “no Dick I’m not on patrol tonight, I’m busy.” “

Knows exactly what to get at the store if you ask him since he had to get stuff for his mom

Will bring back chocolate or whatever your favorite snack is

Let’s be honest, chocolate gets boring after about a day

Holds you while you’re in pain

Makes sure to call you often when he’s on patrol go check in, especially if you’re benched from patrol for the week because of it

Is mostly calling for himself to make sure you’re not dying or anything

Gets medical advice from Alfred

Is genuinely afraid you’ll become anemic or something if he thinks you’re losing too much blood

You two are experts at getting blood out of things so don’t even worry about it

Let’s you wear all of his clothes and takes up doing the chores since you’re probably bloated and swelling

Kisses your cheek and forehead a lot if you’re not feeling well

Does anything you need to feel better

His guilty pleasure is when you’re on your period and are craving carbs because he really really loves carb loading but can’t do it often

Bagels, pasta, pizza, crackers, cinnamon rolls, anything carb

If you start running a fever he freaks out a bit but has enough experience to know you’re not dying

Puts an ice pack on your forehead and gets advil for you

Stocks up on ice cream if that’s your thing

Excuses himself and you from any galas and makes sure the paparazzi isn’t around

Probably threatens them or something who knows

Has one of his sisters come over to give you company if you need some girl time

If you want to you’ll 100% be welcomed to just sit in the bat cave during patrol and help monitor

The entire week or two is just Jason doting on you more than usual

He’d wrap you in a blanket burrito and carry you everywhere

Is very touchy when you don’t feel well so he latches himself onto you

Movie marathons

I watch Law and Order and lots of crime documentaries when I’m on my period for some reason and he’d 100% binge those

Has fuzzy socks for you

They’re probably funky colorful ones that he thought were funny and got them for you one day to cheer you up

Won’t let you talk bad about yourself

If you call yourself yuck or gross or fat or anything he’d smother you with his entire body

Not today Satan

Praises from him are the best let’s just keep it at that

[vaaaaaiolet]

Good thing your doctor's always on speed dial for your health scares, but can he help you out of this one?

gn / m, fluff, romance, hypochondriac reader, leon is your teledoc LMAO, denial of feelings / obliviousness, slightly ooc?? phone call transcript format in lowercase

word count: 1.2k // read on ao3

a/n: for @idyllcy + @hiya-itsamber :3

just a silly scenario i wrote in 2023 when those corny tiktok dual pov slideshows were a thing 😭 leon's dialogue is indented + in blue and nothing is proofread i fear

RINGING… [0:01]

[line connects.]

hi doc, I just wanted to call and tell you that I need to schedule an appointment tomorrow.

     that’s awfully soon, I just saw you last week. what’s wrong?

what’s wrong? more like what isn’t wrong. honestly, I think I’d rather just schedule the appointment and not waste more of your time. are you free at 4 tomorrow?

     my job is to ask you what’s wrong so I can fix it. cut out the middle man and tell me how you’ve been feeling. the poor receptionist needs a break anyway, flu season has her answering calls from her bathroom.

[nervous laughter.]

     are you in the bathroom?

…

     never mind that. do you have any new symptoms or have your old ones worsened?

this has to be against HIPAA or something, doc. I’m telling you, I’ll just call later.

[loud flushing sounds and tap water running.]

     I’m still waiting.

have it your way then.

     mhm.

I have so many symptoms, I don’t even know where to start. you know how I am about cleaning things and staying on top of my health. my chart last appointment was perfect!

     minus the minor cold you had, yes. has your cold not improved?

I’m not sure. the congestion and coughing’s all disappeared, but now I have really bad headaches. and hot flashes.

     headaches?

uh huh.

     what are they like?

they’re…weird. they start in my head, but they spread, like, everywhere.

     I see.

     can you tell me more about how they spread? is it one big headache or a bunch of little ones at a time?

they start in my temples and if I don’t take medicine for them fast enough, they move down to the bridge of my nose and into my cheeks. I swear I can feel these headaches in my chest.

and that’s when I get these hot flashes. like someone’s microwaving me on high, and I get dizzy, and out of breath, and-

     you get headaches in your chest?

in my chest! headaches aren’t supposed to do that right? it feels like my heart jumps. that’s not right, is it?

     [sounds of pen scratching on paper.]

but the curious thing is that I’ve had these symptoms before. they’re not new.

     huh? I thought they started right after your cold.

no no, it’s just that they go away when I have my appointments. I’ve been doing some research online and I think that right at the time you prescribe me my new medicine, they go away. it all lines up with the release time of the inhibi-

     you worry too much. I’m sure it’s not that; none of the medicine I’ve ever given you lines up with your symptoms.

oh.

     why didn’t you tell me this when you first started coming to our office? this is important information that needs to be added to your file.

but it really wasn’t that important-

     you don’t understand. I need your entire medical history to assign you the right medicine.

     I could have triggered some autoimmune disease, or, or, flared up more symptoms.

     god, I should have done the bare minimum and checked with your nurse. Florence, is that her name? I need to make some calls. I’ll call you right back.

hey doc? you’re starting to sound like me. don’t worry, I’m coming in for my appointment anyway tomorrow. you don’t have to get all military about it.

     you’re one of my first patients. I worry about you.

you do?

     it’s my job to worry about you. i quite like my job.

that felt nice to hear.

     it’s the truth.

the reason I didn’t tell you about it earlier is because I got a second opinion and I felt guilty about it. I felt like I was cheating on you, somehow.

     [laughter.]

     what part of your research gave you that idea? you don’t believe I can handle you seeing another healthcare professional?

it’s embarrassing! it wasn’t even a healthcare professional. it was my mom.

     your mom counts as a second opinion?

she’s licensed in all matters of life.

     I see.

…and the heart.

     that so?

she told me it was mmmfmmf [unintelligible].

     hm. I still need to hear about this incredibly important second opinion.

she told me I just had a silly crush. can you believe her?

     and she might have a point, you know. how did she come to that conclusion?

she totally dismissed my hot flashes and told me that it was normal. same with my headaches and what i’m definitely sure is a developing heart arrhythmia.

     that’s…interesting.

I get it, I thought the same thing you’re thinking right now. except she predicted a symptom I didn’t even have when I asked her.

     and what symptom would that be?

insomnia! I can’t even sleep anymore. I stay up all night in bed, thinking.

     and what do you think about?

to be honest, going back to the doctor’s office.

your office.

     my office?

yeah. whenever I go to your appointments, my symptoms go away. it would be stupid to bring up my mom’s theory during checkups, so I’ve never said anything.

     you’ve got to be kidding me.

     your master plan is to keep getting sick and showing up to my office for 20 minutes a month?

well, it sounds stupid when you say it!

     how long did you think this was going to last?

I don’t have a choice. it’s either this or nothing. 20 minutes with you taking my vitals is worth the aches and pains leading up to it because i feel so much better afterwards.

it just feels nice seeing you. i think it’s an environment trigger.

hey doc, you still there?

     tell you what, I think you’re going to have to get that second opinion.

why would I do that? didn’t I just explain to you why I can’t? you’re the only one that makes my mysterious disease go away, and besides, there’s no such thing as a second second opinion.

     listen to me. I can’t continue your current treatment anymore. it'd be breaking HIPAA to treat you like I need to because of the type of disease you have.

     and to be honest, I don’t think it has a cure yet.

are you serious? how much do I need to pay for treatment? what’s my prognosis?

[clattering of pens on desk and line breaks up briefly from movement.]

[quietly.] doc, am I going to live?

     [laughs.] you’ll live. I have no doubts about that.

well then, why can’t you treat me?

     I can treat you. it’s just that I can’t as your doctor.

you’re not making any sense.

     you’re still going to need to schedule that appointment for tomorrow, but it’ll have to be using a different phone number. call XXX-XXX-XXXX.

[furious pen scratching on paper.]

alright, and who am I asking for on the line?

     ask for Leon. and dress nice.

that’s required for the appointment?

     he has special conditions. it’s a quality of service thing.

…and you’ll be there with the doctor at the appointment?

     [light laughter.]

     I will.

okay, see you soon.

     take care.

[line disconnects.]

CALL ENDED WITH: DR. L. KENNEDY M.D. [14:45]

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[personwhowrites]

Y/n: *sneezes*

Ghost: yer sick?

Gaz: ..Price!! She’s sick!

Price: *Dad mode activated*

Y/n: what no no it’s my allergies!

Price running over with a medical kit:

—

Price: what made you join the army?

Y/n: Money

Price: No..like nothing about family or something?

Y/n: Did I stutter?

—

Y/n sleeping peacefully:

Ghost: Look at her such a demon.

Soap: that isn’t how you flirt..

Ghost: the fuck is flirting?

Soap:

—

Y/n: I honestly feel like I’m ghost favorite.

Soap: Keep dreaming..

Price sipping some tea ghost made for him:

—

Laswell: Y/n, you do understand that if you leave Task Force 141.. you will be hunted down by them.

Y/n: oh I know, that’s the fun part! Soap did this last week now it’s my turn.

Soap sitting in the corner traumatized from the group:

Laswell: Jesus fuck..

—

Price: Why the fuck is there a cat here!

Y/n: it’s mr.boo! Leave him alone plus it’s Ghost cat.

Price: Ghost doesn’t have a ca—

Ghost: Mr.Boo come here boy.

Price:

—

Soap: Beautiful sunset..

Ghost: You.. just ended twelve lives.. and you’re out here caring about the sunset..

Soap: about to make it thirteen.

Ghost: ..What?

Soap: it’s a joke! Don’t hurt me please.

—

Gaz: Why are you so mad about people calling it soccer?

Price: god damn it! If anyone asks me one time I will end them!

Y/n: why does it an inconvenience to you sir that they proceed to call it le soccer.

Price: That’s it!

Ghost: …this is why.. I don’t work with people..

—

Gaz: would you rather save a dog or Gho—

Y/n: dog.

Gaz: Damn no hesitation..

Ghost sitting next to Gaz:

—

Soap: Y/n how come you never say your last name or use it?

Y/n: because it’s too long.

Soap: What is it?

Y/n: Mind your fucking business.

Soap: good joke but what is it?

Y/n: That’s it.

Soap:

Ghost holding in a smile knowing damn well her last name is his:

—

Laswell: Y/n do you understand what you need to do?

Y/n: Yes, kill them and walk out with their lollipops

Laswell: The hell no! They’re kids y/n.

Y/n: Well that didn’t stop you years ago.

Laswell:

—

Price: Alright we will be ready in ten. Wear your costume.

Later

Soap and Gaz dress up as Ghost:

Ghost: …Okay I under your two costumes but what fuck are you y/n.

Y/n: ..I’m uh..your shadow?

Ghost: with a Bow tie and mouse ears?

Y/n: ..yes…

Ghost: you didn’t understand Price did you?

Y/n softly: yes..

—

Y/n: *throwing out the remaining tea in the sink*

Ghost: *Soft Gasp*

Price: You okay?

Ghost: ..Just felt some tea being wasted..

—

[bearrrrrrr7]

perfect

Haven't posted anything in like, 8 years? Got inspired today. goodbye. (don't even remember how this shirt works lmaooo)

“yo , Syd!” Carmy calls from his office. He has a hangnail he’s been chewing on. Mostly nerves, he thinks. Also because it fucking hurts. If he starts bleeding his wife is gonna kill him. 

“‘Sup, Carm?” She pushes her way through the door and peaks her head in, “Yeah?” 

“Uh, next week, on like-” he checks his phone for the date again, “wednesday, yeah Wednesday, I’m gonna be out. Gonna need you to take over until like-Monday, I think? You can call me, just won’t be in.” 

Syd scrunches her eyebrow “uh, no-yeah that’s fine, for sure. Just like - why? Are you okay? You don’t normally, like, spring this shit on me.” She fully enters his office at this point. Arms are crossed, not in an annoyed way, more so because the giant fan in his office is directly pointing at her. 

“No yeah, uh, fine.” He coughs into his shoulder. He shouldn’t feel awkward about this, he’s a fully grown man with two baby girls and a beautiful wife. “Just a procedure, medical, uh, procedure I gotta get done on Wednesday. They told me not to be on my feet too much for the next couple days.” He’s not making eye contact with Syd, fully focused on color coordinating the highlighters in his desk. 

“Procedure? Dude, what? Are you fucking okay?” Syd asks, walking a little closer to him. She has half the nerve to put the back of her hand to his forehead. 

“Yes, Syd. Jesus. I’m fuckin’ fine okay? I mean it, just - like, could you make sure this shit doesn’t burn down while I’m gone?” He runs his hand through his curls. He needs a cigarette. He tries to picture your disappointed face so he doesn’t reach for his emergency pack. 

“Yo, Syd!” Syd and Carmy both whip their heads to the door, it’s Richie. With a shit eating grin on his face. 

“What, Richie?” Syd scoffs. “Were you invited here or did you just decide to insert yourself?” 

“Insert myself. Anyways, just so you don’t pop a blood vessel, Carm’s getting surgery to he can fuck his wife without protection. Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s gonna be juuuuuust fine” he says, winking, stupid fucking grin still on his face. 

“Jesus, Richie” Carm and Syd both say at the same time. Carmy has his head in his hands. “Don’t listen to ‘im.” Carmy finally says. “I mean - yes. I am getting, you know, uhm, that. Vasectomy. But like - that wasn’t the main reaso-” 

“Hey Carmy?” Syd interrupts him. 

“Mm?” 

“Good luck on your procedure on Wednesday and I’ll see you Monday, okay?” 

“Thank you, Chef” Carmy breathes out a laugh. Syd laughs too. “Fuckin’ Richie” he says. 

“Fuckin’ Richie” Syd agrees. 

-

Carmy shows up to the house 3 hours later. Apparently everyone in the bear had heard Richie’s loud fucking announcement about his surgery. His hangnail did start bleeding but he found a paw patrol bandaid in the backseat of his car. 

He hears laughter once he reaches the back door, he smiles to himself. 

“Where are my cubs?” He yells as soon as he gets through the door. He hears screaming and giggling and a jumble of “Me! I here, daddy!” and before he can get a good glimpse of them he has tiny, chunky arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Where’s mama bear’s love? She chopped liver, or what?” You come into the doorway. Your hair’s a bit disheveled. You have tiny, blue and white plaid shorts on with a shirt that has so many stains on it you might as well consider it tie-dye. You have marinara sauce on your right cheek. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, he thinks. 

“Hi, sweetheart” he says. He gets up from his crouched position, two tiny toddlers hanging around his neck. He kisses you, takes his thumb and wipes that tiny bit of marinara sauce off your cheek. You look at his bandaid and give him a look. “Couldn’t help it” he says. 

-

After dinner, after the girls’ bath, after three different stories, after a small glass of wine each and a rewatch of something neither of you know the name of, you rest your head on his shoulders. 

“How are you feeling about it?” You ask. 

“What?” he asks. His eyes started to close a bit, he’s not fully sure he heard your question. 

“About the snip” you say, giggling a bit. 

He snorts, “you 10-years-old?” 

“I mean it, Carm! Be honest!” You say, you lightly slap his arm, settling right back into him after. 

“Jesus, woman.” He laughs “Uhm, I mean, good? Like this, like right here - uh, you and me, and my two cubs, my Ellie and my Charlie, my beautiful wife, this is it, you know? I just feel like our life right now is perfect. And you have done everything - so much for me. For the girls. So I’m good, I’m happy to do this. I wanna keep this, just this. This is perfect.” 

[menalez]

i’m getting spammed with anon hate and i honestly don’t think this place is redeemable so im probs not going to be posting for idk how long. radblr has given me less than nothing. since joining radblr, people have overwhelmingly been unbelievably cruel to me.

my first year on radblr, women 1-2 decades older than me viciously harassed me for asking questions as someone not familiar with certain beliefs held here. these women harassed me for months non-stop, posted my full legal name, posted homes neighbouring where i lived in bahrain, and essentially released my private information. i had to threaten them back just in hopes they would leave me alone, which they didn’t really do. they simply stopped posting my name bc they wanted to make me look like im bad for finding one of their names simply by googling her url (her full name was her twitter username). one of the people in that circle was radicaldumbass, who then came back as macroclit, and again came back as radicalstoner. i moved on but i haven’t forgotten.

then, black-diaspora repeated the same thing. she posted pictures of my mother and led people to finding my mom's facebook. to this day, i still get anons with my mother’s name and my sister’s name. my sister was about 13 when anons first started sending me her name in threatening anons. somehow, black-diaspora was rewritten as a victim of mine despite her being repeatedly racist & lesbophobic to me & posting my mom’s info.

i was being abused by my ex-gf and women on here literally picked my abuse apart and enabled TRAs like lostelvenqueen to make up lies that i was the one abusing my abuser. that vicious lie was reiterated for 4 years. while being abused, women on radblr were mocking me for needing money when my ex-girlfriend was actively stealing from me at the time. to this day people use against me the fact that i needed help in that time bc some mutuals helped finance 2 dinners & my medication, all of which i either paid them back for or drew art as payment.

then, again, another woman dug through an old blog i ran as a teenager and found some posts here and there to make it seem like i, as a 15 and 16 year old, definitely loved being totally controlled by someone and physically abused whenever i didn’t follow his exact commands. i spoke openly about this trauma years prior to this person “exposing” me & arguing that i actually wanted that abuse by pointing to random innocuous posts and forming a story out of it. i think every abuse victim can imagine how difficult it is to still face trauma from something and instead of being allowed to heal, having it brought up to you several days a week to taunt you and having “feminists” tell you that you actually wanted it and are lying when you say otherwise. to this day, i get daily anons mentioning my name because this woman also put my legal name out there.

women here have put me in physical danger, they have made up the vilest lies about me, they’ve called me racial slurs, they’ve been outright racist to me, they’ve speculated about my rape & abuse, they’ve joked about lynching me, they’ve questioned things as minuscule as what i had for dinner. and despite that, i haven’t returned that same treatment. i remained relatively consistent, i simply criticised what i thought was wrong and provided evidence to my statements.

i made some nice friends on here & i’ll keep talking to them. but i’m going to be reevaluating why i’m wasting my time in a space that has overwhelmingly caused me stress, a space where countless unbelievable lies have been spun about me and a place where people have said & done the vilest things and in the end, i was always framed as a bad person based on half-truths or outright lies. now, people falsely claim that women who unfollow me or block me risk having their private information exposed, when i have met at least a dozen women from radblr and run a server with hundreds of women from radblr, have seen hundreds of faces, and have never exposed such information even if we end up disliking each other. i could tolerate many ridiculous lies, but why should i? i’m pretty fed up of tolerating this.

enjoy spinning this however you want and lying about me further. idk when i’ll be back or if i’ll want to be back. it’s pretty clear to me that this space prioritises lesbophobes & racists (& sometimes even downright misogynists) over people who calmly criticise it. i joined this space initially bc i thought it was somewhere where i could freely be a lesbian without being hassled for it, but radblr doesn’t even offer that anymore.

[maybankswhore]

Hi, could you possibly write a fic about rafe/jj looking after the reader when they’re on their period? I’m on my period rn and I’m cramping so bad 😭😭

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

pairing(s): jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: you get your period and jj makes it his mission to make it as easy as possible.

You’re biggest pet peeve was being on your period. For some reason , you’d always get the worst of it. Especially the first two days.

You bled the heaviest , cramped the hardest. The whole day was just absolutely exhausting and no matter how much pain medication you took , you’d almost always end up free bleeding on the toilet for hours at a time hoping to pass the time.

Starting your period the morning you and the rest of the Pogue’s were supposed to go out surfing made your mood even worse. You had gotten a new swim suit for the day and everthing and now you had to cancel. You had texted Kiara telling her to let John B and Pope know you weren’t coming , her obviously understanding the situation. You also knew JJ would be disappointed because he wanted to start helping you learn how to surf— beings that all you did on surfing days was tan because you didn’t know how.

Finding a comfortable position in your bed , you pulled out your phone and pressed JJ’s contact. It didn’t take more than two or three rings for him to answer. “Hi , baby! Sorry I’m running late. Pope was being a shit head and wouldn’t leave work.”

You smiled lightly at Pope’s disagreement in the background.

“No , J that’s okay. I’m not feeling too good today so I’m gonna stay home.”

“Not feeling good? Are you okay? You sick? Want me to come over and bring you to the doctor?” You could hear the concern in his voice , picturing him furrowing his eyebrows at you. It made you grin a bit , hearing him so worried about you.

“I’m not sick. I started my period and you know how that goes. I’m grouchy and sad.”

“Okay so I don’t need to bring you to the doctor but I’m still coming over.”

You rolled your eyes. “JJ! You’ve been so excited to get the Pogue’s together for this. Don’t skip out just ’cus of me. I’ll be fine , I deal with it every month.”

“Sure but we can get together some other day. I’ll see you soon , baby!” He said , hanging up the phone before you even had time to open your mouth and argue.

You sighed and put your phone down , snuggling up into your comforter.

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until you were woken up by JJ knocking on your bedroom door , lightly saying your name. Stirring , you groaned when the pain almost immediately hit you— feeling swollen and achey.

“Sorry to wake you.” JJ frowned at himself , placing the plastic bag down on your nightstand and immediately attaching himself to your side. He knelt on the side of the bed you were on , brushing hair away from your face. He sighed at your pale complexion and tired eyes , obviously seeing the affects it was having on you. It came every month and JJ knew it was normal , it still didn’t stop him from feeling bad and worrying about you each time. “Wanna take a bath? I’ll make it extra hot.”

You grabbed his hand that was now cupping your cheek and kissed the palm tiredly , nodding. “Thanks , J.”

He was always so catering to you , on the whim , on his knees at your beck an call. It didn’t matter how much you would stomp your feet and demand him to go about worry about something else— JJ was always all about you , all of the time. And the week of your period he was extra caring and compassionate towards you. Whether he’d simply watch a sad movie with you so you could cry and let all of your emotions out , or watch a show that’d get you all riled up and heated ( secretly giggling at your angry face ) , he did it all and you appreciated it with your whole heart.

JJ pressed a soft kiss to your head as he went to run the water for you as you managed to stand yourself up and find some fresh comfortable clothes to change into , hoping to ease some of that ickness you felt.

As you went into the bathroom , JJ was sitting on the toilet seat waiting for you. His hand checking the water every couple seconds to make sure it was just right. His eyes softened as he looked at you. “I got some pads from the store. Figured you can wear them at home. I heard tampons could give you like. . . electric shock or something if you use ’em too long so I don’t want you risking it.” He proposed , motioning towards the box on the counter.

You giggled as you undressed , feeling comfortable to take your time and not rush , knowing that right now— JJ found you beautiful and all , even if you felt like you were the most bloated and disgusting creature. The look in his eyes said it all.

Sighing contently as you sinked into the bath , your eyes fluttered closed allowing the warmth to soothe your achey muscles. “You know it isn’t electric shock and that only happens if you wear it too long.” You hummed , peeking at JJ through slotted eyes.

“What happens if you fall asleep with it? Or you forget about it?” JJ listed off. “I think you should just wear those when we go to John B’s or something.”

You rolled your eyes at his over protectiveness , but you secretly loved it. Your left hand reached out to his that rested on his leg and held it tightly , rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “Thanks for coming over. I know you were really looking forward to going surfing with everyone.”

JJ smiled at you sweetly , lifting your hand up to kiss your palm. “You’re more important.”

Lulling your head to the side , you just stared at him as he patiently waited for you. You couldn’t believe how lucky you got to have someone like JJ. He was always so caring and compassionate , giving you anything you ever needed. He supported you , encouraged you to do the things you loved and to take chances you normally wouldn’t. He’d sit on a ceramic toilet for days on end if it meant he got to spend time with you. “I really , really love you.”

“I really , really love you , my sweet girl. Once you’re finished we can go back and lay down. I have all of your favorite things and Kiara had some medicine she gave me to give to you.”

“We’re watching Taylor’s documentary on Netflix!” You clapped , rushing to bathe yourself now , excited to munch on all your favorite snacks.

JJ groaned. “That’s the third time this week.”

“Okay? Third time’s a charm!”

[suzukiblu]

Another excerpt from the one where Tim is trans and Kon is not the father, plus a read-more for length.

“Bart’s really back too?” Tim asks, his voice not quite cracking. 

“Back and also . . . okay, not the right age, but the age he was the last time I saw him,” Kon says. “Which apparently he was not for you guys for a while, what the fuck.” 

“Long story,” Tim says, smiling helplessly. 

“Yeah, I know, it took Bart a whole thirty seconds to explain it to me,” Kon says wryly. 

“Have you seen . . . Cassie, yet?” Tim asks hesitantly, because he’s a fucking glutton for punishment, apparently. Because otherwise he’s just ignoring the elephant he coaxed into the room himself. 

“No,” Kon says, shaking his head. “Bart went to go drop in on the Titans, but Clark brought me straight here. He figured I’d wanna see you and Kyra first. We had a very confusing thirty-first century conversation while he was trying to ease me into the ‘everyone knows you’re gay for your best friend’ thing and gently break the news about me being a dad, and then Bart just started talking his ear off demanding baby updates. It was, uh, interesting. I guess he died before she was born, but Clark didn’t realize he’d known you were pregnant?” 

“Yeah,” Tim says, trying not to wince. “I mean–I didn’t know what to do at first, so I just took medical leave from the Titans for an ‘injury’, but I told Bart and Cassie, and then . . . well, then Bart died before I told the Kents. It was only a couple months or so–I didn’t want to make them feel worse, in case anything went wrong–but . . .” 

But that’s how it is, in their line of work. A couple months or so is more than enough time for another one of your best friends to die. 

“Please tell me you weren’t patrolling Gotham knocked up,” Kon says with a grimace. 

“. . . technically, yes, but not after I realized I was knocked up,” Tim says, smiling weakly. “Not for . . . more than a week or two, anyway.” 

Kon groans, dragging a hand back over his scalp. He looks pained. Tim pretends it’s because Kon thinks he’s an obsessed workaholic, and not because Kon knows him well enough to know how messed up he’d been to actually do that. 

“I was in the middle of a case,” he says like it’s any kind of a defense. “And it was investigative work, not . . . I called Dick in to handle the violent parts, okay?” 

“Small favors,” Kon says, then glances towards Kyra’s crib. “So you’re . . . retired? You hung up the cape?” 

“I’m not Robin anymore,” Tim says. “And I’m not patrolling or running missions. But I can’t–if he ever finds out, if he ever finds her, I can’t be retired. I need to be–ready.”

Kon’s jaw tightens. Tim wishes he’d never had to say that. Wishes the lie had been true. Wishes–

Wishes a lot of things, some for Kon’s sake but most for Kyra’s. 

And one or two for his own. 

“What’s the new codename, then?” Kon asks, still looking at the crib. Tim’s grateful that he’s not . . . Tim’s just grateful. Grateful that this is Kon, and he’s alive, and he’s here, and . . . and that he’s going to let him lie. 

He’s so fucking grateful for that. 

“I haven’t exactly bothered rebranding,” he says with forced levity. “I’m not going out with anyone else and I don’t need a rep. I’m not a vigilante anymore. I just need to be able to handle any problems that might come up.” 

“You know how Jimmy Olsen has a watch with a distress signal custom-tuned for Clark’s superhearing?” Kon says, glancing back at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. “I’m getting you one. I’m getting you five. And think up a name, man. Get yourself a color scheme and a bunch of weirdly-themed gadgets going. There’s a lot of other birds in the world.” 

Kon does have opinions about names, Tim supposes. For obvious reasons. 

That was why naming Kyra after him was the only thing he could’ve done, but also a terrible thing for him to have done. 

He really couldn’t have done anything else, though. He’d had to name her what he would’ve named her, if Kon had really been . . . if she’d really been . . .

He’d had to. 

That’s the best way to lie, after all: use the truth. 

“Okay,” Tim says. He might’ve been annoyed by the watch idea when they were younger. Felt like Kon didn’t think he could handle himself or was overestimating himself. He’s not annoyed now. Now it’s just one more contingency plan. 

He’d do anything for Kyra. Wearing a panic button that Kon would recognize the frequency of is the least of what he’d do for her. 

“Clark’ll help me get something around,” Kon says. “If, uh–especially if he thinks we’re, you know . . . together.” 

“I could make it,” Tim points out. “You don’t need to bother him with it.” 

“Clark knows the best frequencies to use. Plus then we can make sure it’s not gonna sound too much like Jimmy’s too,” Kon says, then flashes him a grin. “Besides, it’s more romantic if I’m the one giving it to you, right?”

“Fuck you,” Tim snorts, rolling his eyes as he shoves him, and Kon laughs and goes with it. Tim doesn’t know how to tell him he’s the best friend he’s ever had; the best friend he ever could have. He doesn’t know how to apologize enough for this. He doesn’t . . . 

Kyra makes a squeaky crooning sound from her crib, and Kon blinks, and–

Oh, Tim thinks, watching Kon’s pupils visibly dilate into pinpricks. Right. He . . . forgot. 

“What the fuck?” Kon says. 

“Some of her vocalizations are . . . like that,” Tim says carefully as Kon stares fixatedly at Kyra’s crib. She squeaks again. “Um–Clark reacted a little weirdly to some of them too, he said they were–” 

Kyra starts her usual melodic babbling, and Kon makes a low rumbling noise in response. Tim–blinks. Kon looks startled too, putting a hand to his chest. 

“Uh,” he says. “That was . . .” 

Kyra starts babbling louder, squealing for attention, and Tim rolls to his feet and heads over to her. She’s already reaching up before he gets to her, and squeaking excitedly for attention. She sounds like a little baby dolphin or something. Clark said there were resonances and undertones to her voice that human ears couldn’t pick up on, too. 

But of course Kon’s not human, is he. 

“Can I . . . hold her?” Kon asks awkwardly, stepping up beside Tim as he plucks Kyra up and staring intently at her. She dolphin-squeaks again. He bites his lip, clearly holding back whatever sound he wants to make in response; clearly holding back from reaching out for her. 

“Let me change her first,” Tim says. Her diaper’s definitely wet, and he doesn’t want her to get uncomfortable. 

“Can you show me how?” Kon asks, still looking a little awkward. “I haven’t been around too many babies, and I kinda just had to, like . . . improvise, the last time I was taking care of one.” 

“Uh–sure?” Tim blinks at him in confusion. “Why do you care, though?” 

“Dude, I’m not gonna be the kind of asshole co-parent who makes the one who got pregnant do all the diaper changes,” Kon says, looking dubious. “You should show me how to feed her, too. She’s on formula, right? It smells kinda like formula in here. And the kitchen did too.” 

“. . . um, okay,” Tim says, and almost bursts into tears on him again. Of course Kon would be like this, the bastard. “She–is, yeah. Clark synthesizes a mix for her in the Fortress. The AI says it’s better for her system than the store-bought stuff, and I had trouble producing enough milk to keep up with her appetite. Plus I kind of needed to get back on my meds as soon as I could anyway, so . . . I mean, they’re supposed to be safe, but I didn’t want to risk it with her physiology.” 

“Good, then I can help feed her,” Kon says. Tim blinks at him again, then just . . . takes Kyra to the changing table. She squeaks louder, clearly offended, and tries to reach for Kon. He trails after them, looking fascinated by her. 

Well . . . Kon’s never seen a Kryptonian baby before, much less heard one, so . . . of course he would be, Tim thinks. Kyra’s only a quarter-Kryptonian, obviously, but genetically . . . genetically, she might as well be half-Kon, and . . . 

And he’s never seen a Kryptonian baby. 

So it makes sense that he’d react strongly, yes. It’d make sense that he’d be a little bit fascinated. Clark had reacted to her too. He’d looked just as startled as Kon had, the first time he’d heard her chirp and squeak for attention, and then just as fascinated. 

Tim still wonders if Kyra’s the first time Clark’s ever fully felt any of the kind of instincts people normally feel, seeing a baby. Like–genetically speaking, he means. Instinctually. She’s seen more of him than Kon ever did, so . . . well, that might just be because they’ve been staying with the Kents, but Martha had mentioned how nice it was to have Clark around so often a few weeks ago, so . . . 

Well. Tim has some suspicions, that’s all. 

He wonders, very briefly–he wonders if he would respond to her like Kon and Clark do, if he ever–if he found out about–

He crushes that thought down into gravel and grinds it into his mental pavement. He doesn’t think about it again. Not at all. 

(Would it be worse if he did or didn’t, though? If he saw her, and was FASCINATED–

Tim stops thinking about it.)

He changes Kyra’s diaper, taking his time a bit so Kon can better observe the process, and Kyra fusses and chirps and screeches through it. Kon stays in a little bit inconveniently close, but Tim doesn’t say anything about it. Kon can do a lot more than just be a little bit inconvenient, after telling him he’d let him lie about this. He’ll deal with having to work around him. 

Kyra screeches louder. Kon makes a thrumming noise low in his throat, and she stops mid-screech and stares up at him intently. Her eyes are a human shade of blue–she got Tim’s eyes and hair, thank fuck, considering there’s no way he ever could’ve sold the alternative as being inherited from Kon–but Clark said there were . . . fractals, he’d described them as. He’d tried to explain, and then tried to draw the pattern, but it’s nothing Tim can see in her eyes for himself. 

But it’s a Kryptonian trait, apparently, so he is very, very grateful he’d chosen the lie he had. Even if the squeaking and chirping hadn’t clued Clark in, if he’d ever met her . . . 

Tim is very, very grateful he chose the lie he had. 

And even more grateful that Kon is willing to help him keep it.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1

Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader

The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.

Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days. 

You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below. 

Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird. 

It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low. 

A hand snapped in front of your face.

“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked. 

“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”

“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”

“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.

“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.

You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.

“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.

“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”

“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.

“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.

It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.

A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured

A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance. 

A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist. 

The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented. 

Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway. 

"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it." 

"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her." 

"Because she takes her pills?" 

"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."

"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."

"But you do know better…" Tony prompted. 

"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."

Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either.  No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.

As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.

That’s when things started to get very strange.

The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.

“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.

“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head. 

“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.

You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away. 

Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss. 

The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.  

“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.

Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin. 

As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.

“Who?”

You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down. 

That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes. 

The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.

When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.

Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.

“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily. 

“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all. 

“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.

“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters. 

“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.

Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”

“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.” 

Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room. 

After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.

“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”

“Yeah”

“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”

“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”

Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.

“Okay, walk me through what happened again”

“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”

“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath. 

“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”

For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give. 

It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route.  

They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested. 

When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.

You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you. 

Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses. 

And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat. 

Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around. 

Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried. 

The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal. 

Tony, however, was taking no chances. 

“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red. 

“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved. 

“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth. 

Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”

“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning. 

“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut. 

“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind. 

“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again. 

“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.

“And Loki?”

“And Loki."

<;< Masterlist

Part 2>>

[romcomxb]

i just saw twisters so now i’m continuing on from this post i made and turning it into a twisters au-

Long story short the previous post was an AU where Bradley never joined the Navy. Instead he became a Wilderness EMT. (in the post jake’s still a pilot but i’m changing that now).

One day Bradley and his team get called to Oklahoma, where a once in a lifetime tornado week was in full swing. High levels of casualties were expected and the government had been struggling to provide for the influx of people loosing everything. Oklahoma’s emergency services were already thinly spread over the state and they needed teams who were more specialised, Bradley’s team were the obvious choice.

Anyway, in the aftermath of the first tornado, Bradley’s right in the middle of the destroyed town, providing emergency medical aid to whoever he can.

As he finishes cleaning up one patient, a figure pushes a young girl toward him. The girl was clutching her wrist gingerly, and Bradley got to work quickly. A few moments later he realises that the figure was still standing over him and the EMT glances up. In front of him was no other than, self labeled tornado wrangler and youtube sensation, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Of course Bradley didn’t recognise him, he wasn’t really one for youtube.

‘You okay there?’ Bradley asked with a raised eyebrow and the man seems to squirm under his hat.

‘Mhmmm,’ The cowboy nodded and glances at the girl. ‘Just wanted to make saw she was okay.’

Bradley shrugged, ‘well she’s in safe hands, we’ll make sure she gets back to her Mama, don’t worry.’

‘Good.’ Jake replied gruffly, wiping his hands on his thighs. ‘Uh-‘

‘Anything else mister?’ Bradley watched him closely, curious as to what was going on.

‘Oh, yeah, no, I’ll uh, see you round.’ He nodded quickly and turned on his heel, striding back toward his crew.

Bradley shrugged it off and continued his work, heading back to his motel late that night, exhausted.

Over the next few days, Bradley and his team were continually the first on site after each tornado hit. And surprise surprise, Jake seemed to be everywhere.

What was a mutual acknowledgment of each others presence became the beginnings of a friendship. Bradley had no clue what Jake was doing there, but he always seemed to be helping, so he didn’t think much of it. Plus he wasn’t bad to look at.

Eventually Bradley noticed the t-shirts, or Jake’s fan club, or the constant filming and that night he spends a good few hours going through his channel. Surprising even himself, Bradley actually enjoyed a few of the videos. Jake was smarter than he let on, he’d give him that. But now he understood why Jake was on scene before the first responders almost every time.

Then on Bradley’s night off he decided to go out for a change and headed to the rodeo. And because fate and the powers that be (aka me) are meddling little shits, Jake and Bradley ended up sitting next to each other.

They get to talking, Bradley explained how he’s from California, and is here for the week for work. Jake told him how he really appreciates Bradley’s work, how it’s important and all that. Of course Bradley’s heard a similar speech many times before, but something about hearing it from Jake feels different. More meaningful, like it carries more weight.

Then the sirens go off and all hell breaks loose.

Sure Bradley’s spent plenty of time around the aftermath of a tornado, but being in one is an entirely different matter. He’s got common sense, of course, and he’s taken plenty of survival courses, he knows the basics, but it’s very different in person to on paper.

Bradley finds himself blindly following Jake, ducking and running, until he spots a mother bundling her child into a car, and clarity hits him. Something that’s been drilled into him for years. Cars aren’t safe. Not in a tornado this strength. Within seconds he’s shouting at the mother, helping her pull her daughter back out and toward the motel, where Jake’s holding the door open.

After an argument with the receptionist that took way too long, they finally managed to hunker down in the empty pool, and waited out the rest of the storm.

By the end of it, Bradley wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to breathe properly again.

When Jake finally gives the all clear and stands up, Bradley can barely pry his fingers from the plumbing. When he does stand up, he’s stiff and sore and the adrenaline was already beginning to disappear.

Jake helps him out of the pool, and he numbly looks around. The sight before him manages to snap him out of his stupor.

The two got to work helping who they could, Jake looking for lost family members, Bradley helping with what first aid that he could before the ambos arrived.

Basically they get together after this at some point- i was gonna write more but it’s 1:40 am and the coffees worn off and i should probably sleep, so enjoy? sorry🥲 i might write more tmrw.

[jayjj7]

chapter 7. helping (half written)

prev. | next | masterlist

a/n: thank you for 300 followers omg❤️

hanni and haerin arrive at the vet that you work out in a panic not knowing what’s wrong with haerins cat, kitty. haerin is holding kitty close to her chest like one would hold an infant. kitty had been throwing up regularly for the past week but after some medication you prescribed her it stopped, though it was a very small amount because you just suspected kitty just had a stomach ache. hanni, still panicked, was calmer than haerin; she still thinks kitty is fine and just needed more medication.

as they both walk in they are greeted by a lady sitting down peacefully on one of the waiting chairs, 7 vacant leashes in hand. hanni and haerin look around, confused as to why no one is at the reception. but because this was like a second home to the both of them because of how often they’ve visited you on your breaks, they weren’t patient.

“hello?” haerin tries to draw your attention towards her.

“y/n! kitty needs help!” hanni shouts leaning over the counter hoping to make her voice heard.

haerin slightly slaps hannis arm, offended.

“ow!”

“don’t say that, kitty is okay” haerin scolds while petting kitty’s head in comfort.

hearing your name being called after ryo and tae arrived to help with the dogs felt like a call from heaven. an excuse to leave you explain to the boys, “okay dani is coming with the gloves, i’ll be right back to help you all” you jog out of the room. you recognized hannis voice but you assumed it was nothing important and it was just another time she stopped by to say hi.

as you jog to the reception you bump into danielle, throwing you off balance towards the wall, which she quickly holds you by both arms so you don’t fall.

“oh my god i’m sorry!” danielle stares at you, hoping to not irritate you.

“it’s fine, go help the boys with the dogs” you don’t even hold eye contact with her as you leave her grasp and make your way to the front.

“hey what’s going on?” you ask slightly out of breath.

“kitty won’t stop throwing up and i ran out of the medicine you gave her!” haerin looks at kitty while explaining to make sure her cat isn’t distressed.

“oh uh okay,” you’re kind of shocked by this as you thought the medicine given to kitty would stop the sickness.

“here, ill take her into the back and run a few tests but that’ll be a $50 copay” you wince, feeling bad charging your dear friend.

“yeah okay here” haerin doesn’t hesitate as she hands you kitty before inserting her card to pay.

in the inspection room you start off by getting kitty some water and writing down any observations. you decided to place some food for her to eat and see any reactions she may have. after serving the food, all kitty does is sit there and stare at you instead of approaching the food. this happens for several minutes. no matter what you do, she won’t eat.

“maybe dani knows what to do?”

you leave the room to find dani washing the dogs with the boys.

“dani can you come here for a second?”

danielle mouths a ‘thank you’ as she takes her hairnet and gloves off before throwing them away after leaving the room.

as you both arrive to the room where kitty was left, you explain the situation to her. danielle hums in confusion as she listens while kitty is cuddling up to her.

“mmm..? how about this?” she walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a can all the way in from the back before opening said can. danielle picks up kitty in her arms and holds the different kind of food to her while she speaks sweetly to kitty, trying to convince her to eat the food.

confused and somewhat annoyed, you cross your arms thinking that danielle won’t be of any help until kitty eats the food with no concerning reactions.

danielle looks at you and smiles.

“maybe kitty doesn’t like the food her owner gives her, i mean she’s not throwing up. she’s almost finished the food!” danielle laughs as kitty continues eating. you can tell danielle loves her job and every animal she treats. it’s heartwarming seeing her care for animals and the smile on her face after she’s found a solution to a problem.

“she’s also over due for a shot so we should take care of that” she says in a more serious tone while handing kitty over to you after kitty had ate all her food.

you’ve been through this process before: hold the animal in a comfortable yet secure position so that it’s not only hard for them to leave your grasp but also comfortable enough for them to relax. all while someone else injects the medication into the animal. simple enough.

“okay ready? one two three” danielle whispers as she inserts and injects the needle into kitty…or so she thought.

“wow did you even give it to her? it’s almost like she didn’t fee-woah” your amusement was cut short as you feel the medicine being poured into you. your hand was under kitty’s stomach so it was hidden, danielle must’ve not seen your hand and injected the medicine into you instead of kitty.

“oh my god y/n!”

in a slump, tired, and exhausted manner, you hand over kitty back to haerin. “turns out she doesn’t like the…food…you give her” your voice is almost a whisper as you talk with noticeable pauses in between words.

“what? kitty!” haerin takes her cat back in disbelief.

“i told you it was nothing” hanni groans and she holds haerins shoulder.

you lean on the counter with your head facing down and hold up a thumbs up. “she was…due for her shots so we…gave her it-to her” you stumble.

“thank you y/n! see you later!” haerin thanks as she walks out with hanni, both of them waving to you.

taglist : [ @modanisgf @greenniee @milfcr @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @nimxie @urwyf3 @flolio @imahallucination11 @pandafuriosa60 @kaypanaq @nnewjeansstuff ] taglist is open !! comment to be added !

[igncrxntripley]

their secret weapon pt. 11

synopsis: y/n learns what happens when she goes behind the backs of two hall of famers. 

a/n: I”M BACK SLUTS!!!!!!!

mentions: overall SFW, some fluff, LOTS OF ANGST, minor descriptions of violence during matches. 

taglist: @thesithdiaries @cassiesgreta @roseheartsworld @theworldofotps @babybatlover @ripleyswhore @auburnwrites @obl1vionblackhart @emogoblin-666 @hereliespumpkin @blxxdshxteyes @neptune-lover @bunnysmyname @i-have-issues-lol @ares-athena @thatonepansexual2000 @witcherfromwallachia @infamousvampcx @christinabae​

“what the hell happened out there?”

it wasn’t long after the chaos ensued in the ring that rhea was blowing up the phones of all four partners. she wasn’t backstage for this particular show due to some travel delays and booking, but she watched everything that went down between the judgement day and edge. needless to say, she was not thrilled and was giving her boys an earful as soon as one of them answered her call. 

the three boys sat in their dressing room, waiting for y/n to finish in medical and trying to calm rhea down over the phone. finn was the first to speak up. “baby, we had no clue she was going to-”

“you had no clue?” she interrupted. “finn, you know how she is! you know she’s going to fight tooth and nail to prove that she’s loyal to us! she’s taken table shots, kicks, why would this be any different?”

damian sighed and ran a stressed hand through his hair, the other hand holding dominik’s thigh to calm his bouncing leg. “okay, let’s just all take a deep breathe.” he said, hoping it would calm everyone down even though he knew that was a long shot at this point. “rhea, amor, it’s my fault.” he said. “i was trying to get her out of there before things got out of hand but she saw finn and took matters into her own hands. i should’ve just been quicker.”

rhea took her own deep breathe and pinched the bridge of her nose. “i’m sorry for freaking out.” she may have been a rock in front of an audience, but when it came to her family, rhea couldn’t help but panic - especially when she wasn’t there. “she’s going to be okay though, right?”

“she was a little fuzzy coming through gorilla.” dom said softly. “her head hit the ringpost pretty hard and she got the wind knocked out of her, but we won’t know anything for sure until she finishes with medics.” he bit his own lip with worry and grabbed damian’s hand, needing one of the older two to help calm him down. “this is edge’s fault. he knew what he was doing when he came out to the ring and started patronizing her. I swear to god the next time i see him-”

“hey, love.” finn shook his head at the younger mysterio and rubbed his back. “don’t even go there just yet.” he wasn’t about to let them make any irrational decisions. sure, they were all pissed; they’d just watched two people that their secret weapon, their princess, adored for the majority of her life and career humiliate her in front of an audience. he wanted their next moves to be calculated...he wanted edge to pay for what he’d done before anything could get out of hand again. because no one messed with the judgement day...especially their newest member. 

--- ---

everyone in the judgement day was lucky enough to be home again, altogether before elimination chamber so y/n could recover from her run-in with edge. she had a nice bruise on her rib and luckily walked away with nothing more than a small concussion, but that didn’t mean her emotions were any less hurt by what happened. 

this was a man y/n watched every week on tv growing up. she idolized the charisma that dripped from him and the way he carried himself in and out of the ring. he was one of the main reasons she decided to even become a wrestler. so when she was only a young newbie in NXT just a few short years ago and she met beth phoenix for the first time, she almost couldn’t believe it when the hall of famers took her under their wing to help her train and perfect her craft. beth and adam brought y/n into their lives and treated her like family when she felt so alone in the industry, teaching her new moves and finishers to only enhance the natural talent she had in the ring. 

as time went on though and edge came back to work on his own career again, y/n felt that relationship start to slip through the cracks. he and beth no longer spent as much time backstage helping her with the little details like getting her warmed up or taping her wrists; it became all about making sure the hall of famer had what he needed to build upon his already lengthy resume. but y/n still wasn’t hurt as much as she was now; she’d practically forgiven it and written the whole thing off as her being dramatic. 

then came the judgement day. a group edge started to give underutilized talent a leg up. a way to give people in this industry the opportunities they deserved and to build upon the already great things they’d managed to do. edge was recruiting former champions in damian and rhea...but y/n couldn’t help but feel a slight sting in her chest when he seemingly looked right past her. the man who helped train her, who told her she had so much potential as a professional wrestler...he wanted nothing to do with her joining his own stable. 

edge threw y/n to the wolves, left her with nothing and no one. she had become satisfied with being looked at as a ‘low-card’ wrestler and grew comfortable with being given all of these empty promises and opportunities. but that changed when four people took her in and gave her what beth and adam never could. of course she still loved the two of them; they were her home away from home, the parents she’d never had. but they crushed her soul little by little, and her four partners were the ones who were going to be tasked with picking up the pieces. 

the sound of dominik coming into the living room broke y/n from her train of thought. she’d been curled up on the couch under a blanket, rhea’s head in her lap and the aussie having fallen asleep long ago during their reality tv binge-watching. y/n smiled up at him, her fingers playing with some of rhea’s hair, and she leaned into dom once he got comfortable next to her. 

“i see we’ve switched from jersey shore to the real housewives?” he teased softly, a tattooed arm wrapping around y/n’s shoulder and his fingers gently rubbing a knot under her skin. “how’re you feeling?”

y/n answered with a small shrug and cuddled closer to him. “okay, i guess.” she said. “thinking too much. what else is new?” she couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left her lips as her focus drifted from the tv to dominik’s gentle face. 

dom hummed. “that’s only going to make your concussion worse, you know.” he kissed her temple, a sense of pride running through his chest as his girl chuckled at another one of his jokes. “what are you thinking about?”

her features softened and she curled into her blanket just a little more, being careful as to not wake rhea. “just...everything that happened on monday. the last few months.” she shrugged gently. “i guess i’m frustrated, that’s all. i’m finally growing into my skin and feeling comfortable in a ring. feeling like i actually belong.” she bit her lip as she sunk deeper into her train of thought. “but he made me feel like i’m nothing more than dead weight. or that it was a mistake for you guys to even bring me into the group.” 

dominik took a deep breathe and gently turned her face to look at him. “don’t let edge get to you, chica.” he said quietly. “this is what he does. he plays mind games with people, he says things to get under their skin, and he does whatever he needs to do to piss people off and get a win over them.” he brushed some hair from y/n’s face. “but he doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into by coming for us.”

y/n focused on the feeling of rhea’s soft hair slipping between her fingers. while she wanted to believe everything going on in her mind wasn’t true, something still was tugging at her heartstrings and trying to convince her that she wasn’t worthy of the recognition. “but what if-”

“there are no ‘what if’s’, love.” he shook his head. “you’re here for a reason wit us. you’re ours. we’ve fought to keep you apart of this group, this family, for as long as we have, and nothing is going to stop us now.” dom flashed a small grin. “you have four people who would lay it all on the line for you, just like you have for us. edge isn’t going to get in our way.”

she smiled at dominik, her eyes twinkling with love and adoration as she watched dom look at her the exact same way. “what did i do to deserve you guys?”

dominik smiled at her. “you’re you, and that’s all that matters.” he was always a charmer; dom knew just the right things to say to make butterflies go crazy in the stomachs of his lovers, and this was no different. he leaned in and pressed his lips to y/n’s in a soft kiss, but what neither of them saw was rhea slowly opening her eyes underneath them to see two of the people she loved kissing. 

a soft groan left the eradicator’s lips, her arms circling around y/n’s waist. “how rude of you both to leave me out.” she mumbled. 

y/n giggled and pulled away from dominik, leaning down and giving rhea her own kiss. “there. happy?” her question was met with a soft hum, and the three settled back into their positions on the couch to continue watching tv. 

--- ---

montreal, elimination chamber 2023

for the judgement day, this night was going to be incredibly busy. damian was participating in the elimination chamber match for the united states championship, and rhea and finn had their match against beth and edge. this was the last stop before wrestlemania, the last chance to set storylines and destinies in place before everyone got to the grandest stage of them all. the energy in the buiding, especially between the judgement day members, was almost difficult to even explain. 

even though y/n and dominik didn’t have matches for the night, they were probably just as excited as their partners who would be competing. as y/n was in the dressing room with her partners specifically sitting with finn to help him stretch and warm up, she could tell there was something beyond excitement or adrenaline running through his veins. something like...fury. anger. because he was going to finally get his hands on the man who the entire gorup had been after for months, now; he was the man who speared their secret weapon only a few short days ago. he was the man who stood in the ring and said awful things about the rising star he and his wife had a hand in training. all of them were furious with edge, but finn was the lucky one who got to give him a piece of his mind in the ring. 

y/n sat across from finn, wearing a cropped version of the group’s t-shirt and black jeans as she helped tape his wrists. she wasn’t medically cleared yet after taking the spear from edge, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be backstage to support her family; hell, she wasn’t even above going out to ringside to cause some trouble if she needed to. 

even as she watched him, she could see the gears turning in his head. “if you think any harder your brain might short circuit.” y/n teased. she ripped another piece of tape from the roll and used it to make the wrap on finn’s wrist more even. “do you wanna talk about it?” she felt like she didn’t even need to ask what he was thinking about. the answer was going to be evident. it was just a matter of whether or not finn would actually want to talk it out. 

he shocked her though, and let out a soft sigh. “just thinking of all the ways i’m going to make him miserable once we’re in the ring.” finn mumbled. “he’s not going to get away with what he did, you know? i’m going to make him pay. he doesn’t get to do whatever he pleases like that.”

y/n sighed and finished wrapping finn’s wrist before scooting closer to him. “i know you’re upset,” her hands grabbed his. “but just...keep in mind he’s important to me, okay? they both are. i knew what i was doing when i stepped in front of you and took the spear. this stuff happens, finn.”

“that doesn’t make it okay.” he answered. “i know he’s important to you, but i can’t promise i’ll behave once i get in the ring with him.”

she bit her lip. knowing finn, he wasn’t going to let this go. nothing y/n could say in the moment was going to make this any easier or any better for him, so she decided the best thing to do was step away and let him focus. y/n got up on her knees and kissed her favorite irishman on the forehead. “i’m gonna check on rhea.” she said softly, giving him her signature gentle smile. “behave.” 

with her final warning, she was off onto the other side of the room to check on rhea while she stretched with damian. but even as finn watched her walk away and he finally had space to think about what was going to go down that night, the anger didn’t die down inside of him. it only grew. 

--- ---

time ticked by all so fast yet all so slow as y/n stood by a monitor in gorilla to watch finn and rhea’s match. looking at four people she loved more than anything else in the world absolutely tear each other apart was not easy. it actually made her head throb and she could feel the nausea building in her stomach as they hit and kicked one another. 

but even as she watched, she couldn’t help but feel like...like maybe part of this was her fault. 

if she would have ignored the judgement day’s calls and stuck with her loyalty to edge and beth, she wouldn’t be caught in the middle of this. she would have went about her life and things would have been...okay. she may not have been totally satisfied with her place in the company, but that pain was a lot different than her current emotional pain. 

was that option really any better than what she was currently watching? she would have just been caught in the crosshairs of the judgement day for denying their invitations and she would have been an enemy rather than a partner. 

yeah...neither of those sounded good. 

y/n watched the match closely and chewed her fingernails as she did so. she was unsure who to root for, unsure of who to support, but also wanting nothing more than for the whole thing to end so they could move on. she wanted to be ringside with them like dominik was, but not being medically cleared just yet prohibited her from doing so. it was probably for the best, honestly; she wouldn’t be able to hold back if something happened or someone pissed her off. 

her stomach dropped though, when finn found himself locked into an edgecator. she knew the pain of that move all too well from the amount of times she’d trained both sides of the submission, and while finn was strong, she also knew he was running out of gas and could potentially tap to end the whole thing. 

y/n saw black, though, when beth put rhea in the same hold. her family torturing family, two people she loved being in pain all because her idols had them locked in excruciating submission holds...she wasn’t sitting back any longer. she wasn’t allowing them to continue this. 

y/n was going to fight for her lovers. for the judgement day, just like she proved she could. 

without a second thought, she grabbed a nearby chair from gorilla while dominik had the referee distracted and ran down the ramp. the cheers and jabs from the audience almost sounded like white noise, because the only thing she could focus on was making sure rhea and finn had the leg up. 

the entire match had already been chaotic...why not add more?

y/n slid into the ring with no problem, and faced beth and edge with the chair held high. both of the hall of famers looked at her in absolute shock, but that shock quickly turned to rage as rhea and finn watched on with pride. “you think i won’t do it? huh?” she yelled, staring at her idols before hitting the chair off the mat. “i will! try me!”

the referee was trying to get y/n out of the ring, but edge and beth weren’t going to play this game with her. edge started getting closer to her, his face filled with rage. “you need to learn how to mind your business, kiddo.” he challenged. “get out of here before you get hurt again, do you hear me?”

little did edge know, y/n wasn’t going to allow him to to talk to her like a child anymore; she wasn’t a child. she was an adult, who could make her own decisions and who was going to do whatever she wanted. edge and beth couldn’t change that, and they weren’t going to control her every move like they once could. 

“y/n, i’m not going to tell you again.” edge said, his own hand reaching for the chair but y/n not even loosening her grip. the two tugged back and forth at the chair, both of them yelling at one another and not once breaking eye contact, until finn managed to sweep at edge’s ankles to bring him to the mat. 

once he was laying down on the ring, y/n didn’t even think twice. with brooks, she remembered the hesitation that coursed through her body before she sealed her fate as the newest member of the judgement day. but with edge, a man she saw as a father figure, it was totally different. 

before anyone could stop her, that metal chair hit edge in the back as hard as she could manage. he’d probably taken harder chair hits over the course of his career, but the pain was still evident on his face. 

y/n blacked out; sure she could see her partners smirking at her, but the noise around her was almost nonexistent. she had barely even registered the officials coming out to the ring and ushering her out of the way so the match could finish. 

but as she walked back up the ring, chair still in hand, a smirk rested on her face in pride. young y/n would have never done something like this. not to people she looked up to and loved...

but tonight it was made clear. the old y/n was long gone and dead, thanks to the judgement day. 

monday night raw, february 20th; two days after elimination chamber 

what happened only two nights ago was still fresh and clear in the minds of not only the judgement day, but also to edge and beth. y/n was proud of herself for showing what she was capable of and cementing her position in her new family, and going into this inpromptu meeting with hunter, she thought things were going to go really well. 

maybe triple h was going to offer her a new feud? a couple matches leading up to wrestlemania? hell, maybe she was finally in line for a title match down the road!

everyone backstage knew that going into a meeting with triple h, a hall of famer in his own right, was going to end one of two ways; really well, or really bad. and y/n wasn’t even thinking of the second option as a possibility just yet. 

her partners had went to catering while she sat across from hunter in his makeshift office for the day, making small talk with him before he broke it down her for. for the first time in a long time, confidence was shining through and she was actually proud of herself and her recent accomplishments. the old y/n would have never been able to do this - go into a meeting with her boss, feeling as good as she was in the moment. 

but that wasn’t going to be the case for long. 

“y/n, i wanna talk about what happened on saturday.” hunter said, his hands in front of him as he looked at her carefully. “i know you have your reasons, i know there’s a lot of history between you and the people in that match. but that wasn’t acceptable.” he said. “you aren’t even cleared yet, kid. you could’ve hurt yourself.”

“but i didn’t!” y/n said, her brows furrowed. so this meeting was a tongue lashing from triple h? that’s all this was about? “i couldn’t sit back there and listen to edge and beth taunt them, hunter. they’ve been taunting us for a long time, and i wasn’t going to not do anything.” 

hunter shook his head. “do you interfere in a match? potentially get your partners disqualified?” he said. “you know, edge and beth have been telling me they’ve been worried about you for awhile now.”

they have?

“and i didn’t want to think too much about it. i thought you were just growing into your skin on the main roster, that things would calm down, and you’d be just fine.” another man y/n saw as a mentor was looking at her, disappointment ridden on his face. “but they were right. and y/n, i think you need a break.”

a...a break?

“i already called shawn. i want you back in NXT for a couple of weeks until after wrestlemania. you need a break from the judgement day, and they need a break from you.”

y/n’s heart shattered. tears built in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall in front of her boss. but she could barely even say anything to them, as her breath and her nausea was caught in her throat. “y-you’re kidding, right?”

hunter shook his head. “you need some time to find yourself. and you can thank edge and beth for looking out for you and talking to me, because we all agreed this would be good for you.” he said, his own voice unwavering. “i’ve already talked to johnny and candice. you’re welcome to stay with them for the next few weeks. but y/n, i don’t want you talking to the other four while you’re away. when i say you need a break. i mean it.”

her hands trembled and anger ran through her veins. “hunter, this isn’t fair!” she said. “you’re letting edge tell you what to do with my career? h-he started this!”

“y/n, i can guarantee you’ll thank them for this when it’s all said and done.” he said, a sense of finality in his voice. “i’ll talk to your partners, but for now, this discussion is over. you can grab your things and head out for the night.”

so that was it. y/n was being punished for something edge and beth started. she was being punished for sticking up to her idols, for standing up for her family...she had to pay the price. 

without another word from herself or hunter, y/n stood up from her chair and walked back to the dressing room. the tears finally ran down her face, a sob finally left her throat, and her body shook with rage and anxiety. 

no matter how badly she wanted to as she packed her things, she couldn’t find it within herself to contact any of her four partners. while she wanted to call or text them, or run to catering to beg them to change hunter’s mind, she couldn’t. there was too much shame, too much disappointment in herself to face them. 

all y/n could manage was to leave her purple bandana, something that marked her as one of their own, on top of damian’s bag. it was almost as a way of apologizing for what was happening; a way of saying to them, “i’m sorry i caused this.” or “i’m sorry i wasn’t enough.” not only that, but she left it as a goodbye for the next couple of weeks. 

she left the dressing room, trying to clean up her face and didn’t once look back. the normally busy hallways before a broadcast looked incredibly bare, incredibly quiet...except for one voice that rang like a siren in y/n’s ears as she made her way to a rental car. 

let me in, little one. 

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 4 - Pick me up

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Brief mention to reader’s (small) injury, references to past motorcycle accident and life changing injury.

Thanks so much for the response to this story so far, I'm aiming to update at least once a week - hopefully more some weeks - but life is quite busy at the moment. All your reblogs and comments are so appreciated, thank-you!

You sat awkwardly on a rickety old desk in the backroom as Bucky carefully pulled the tiny shards of glass from your arm with a tweezer. He’d already checked out your head injury, which was barely an injury at all really, a mere scratch and small bump. After a few tests he seemed satisfied you weren’t concussed, so he’d moved on to the glass wound.

He still seemed mad, so you kept quiet, trying not to concentrate on his proximity. His fingers moved agilely and delicately despite his hefty frame, but you supposed it made sense that someone who worked on cars and motorcycles most of the day would be good with their hands.

Your mouth pulled into a grimace as he pulled another shard out and then quickly cleaned the area with antiseptic, causing you to hiss.

“Almost done…” he said monotonously.

“Thanks” you replied.

Your tone was sheepish, you felt a little embarrassed that he was now patching you up after you’d clapped back at him. Your mouth sometimes got ahead of you like that. But it was hard not to feel aggrieved when he was also making you feel like a kid who’d been sent to the principal’s office.

“Hold still…” he scolded.

Yeah…just like that.

“I am still”.

“No…you’re moving. Cut it out”.

“You cut it out!”

He sighed heavily. “Whatever…”

The two of you stewed in silence for a few more minutes until he pulled the final piece out and cleaned and bandaged the wound, then meticulously packed everything back into his medical kit. You thanked him and kept your head down, running your fingers across the bandage as you wondered what to say. You didn’t normally feel shy around Bucky, but the incident with the customer and your subsequent squabbling had thrown you off. Your general feelings towards him seemed to oscillate between sheer lust and intense annoyance.

“So…I guess you’ll be quitting then” he said glumly as he turned around and put the kit back into a desk drawer.

You looked up, surprised. “Huh?”

“After this, I mean” he cleared his throat. “I guess you’ll be quitting the job”.

“Why?”

He turned towards you; confusion and annoyance evident on his face. “…Because you got assaulted by a customer and I didn’t stop it?”

You tilted your head in sudden understanding. “That’s why you’re being so pissy? You think I’m going to quit?”

He frowned; his tone clipped. “Why wouldn’t you? You don’t need this shit on top of all your house stuff”.

Well…he was sort of right. You didn’t really need the money (although it helped), and you really didn’t need to be dealing with drunk guys trying to bottle you…but…in all honesty? You’d dealt with worse over the years. A drunk guy with bad aim wasn’t pleasant, but you liked this job – you liked the MC, you liked the regulars, you liked that it gave you something to do in the evenings rather than aimlessly wander Granny’s house, you liked…Bucky.

“I’m not quitting, Bucky” you told him defiantly.

He looked genuinely surprised, his blue eyes narrowing. “What? Look…I’d understand, we fucked up – we should’ve been there to protect you and we were fuckin’ around playing pool”.

You frowned. “Look…don’t feel guilty. I should’ve called you over and not tried to manage him by myself when he started getting rowdy…I guess I just, didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it…” you told him quietly.

He chuckled fondly. “Sugar…I know full well you can handle it. I’ve seen the way you can handle yourself. But drunks can be unpredictable. You need to tell one of us if things get ugly, okay? That’s why we’re here”.

You nodded. “Alright”.

“Promise me you’ll call me or one of the others over if someone so much as raises their voice to you”. His tone was stern, he was clearly very serious about this.

“Scout’s honour” you replied sunnily as you held up your fingers in a mock salute, trying to ease some of the strange tension that was in the air.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but the stern look on his face was still there.

“And you’re really staying? Because if you wanted to quit..”

“No…Bucky, I’m staying”.

The silence hung awkwardly between you until you cleared your throat, looking over at the cabinet where he’d put away the kit.

“So uh…I didn’t think you’d have First Aid training”.

“You learn a few things after you come off your bike a couple of times” he sighed gruffly.

You nodded silently in response, but he caught your eyes briefly darting to look over at his metal arm.

“Yes…” he wiggled his metal fingers. “That was one of those times…can’t fix that with our First Aid box though” he muttered.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he softened. “I don’t mind talking about it. Really. Long time ago now. Got knocked off my bike by a truck and got pretty badly mangled. They couldn’t save it…”

“Jesus, Bucky, I’m SO sorry. I had no idea…”

“It’s fine,” he said pragmatically. “Accidents happen. Life goes on. Besides, got an upgrade out of it…” he smiled grimly and flexed the robotic arm.

“And you still get on your bike every day, even after all that?” you asked with disbelief.

He nodded, a smile lighting up his face. “It’s what I love. Nothing could stop me doing what I love. Yeah, I was a bit shaky at first. But you adapt. That’s what life is about, isn’t it?”

You smiled back at him. He was like regular Bucky again. You admired the way his face lit up when he spoke about his passion, quietly impressed by his determination to get back in the saddle. You wished you could be more like him in that way, rather than cowering in your indecision when things went south. You looked back over at his metal arm.

“I mean…it’s amazing. So intricate. I’ve never seen a prosthetic like it. How do you even go about getting a robot arm?”

“Friends in high places,” he tittered. “Tony Stark threw it in as part of a deal…”

Your eyes widened. “Tony Stark…the weapons magnate?”

Bucky just winked in response.

“Why would you and Tony Sta- No…you know what? I don’t need to know…”

“Yeah…probably for the best,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes, but you were secretly relieved that the tension between you both had eased. Back to dumb jokes and sassing each other.

He smiled back at you for a second, but it faded so quickly that it made your stomach flip. He looked over at you forcefully, his eyes dark. It was a look you hadn’t seen before.

“Bucky…what is it-”

“I’m sorry again…that you got hurt,” he said gravely. “I would never…if I’d known…” he sighed. “I just mean…the last thing I’d ever want is for you to be in harm’s way…”

You paused, struck by the sincerity in his voice. You stared back at him, nodding sluggishly as he moved closer to you, unable to tear your eyes away from him. Time seemed to slow as he leaned towards you. Your eyes widened as he tilted his head, his expression intense. He leaned in closer and closer, and you found yourself moving too, like a moth to a flame. As his lips met yours it was like a lightning bolt, your breath caught in your chest as you suppressed a gasp and let yourself melt into him. His tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening, and you reciprocated greedily. Suddenly his hands were on your thighs, moving up your hips, your waist. The heat of his touch searing. Your own fingers grabbed at his kutte, pulling him closer and closer but still never close enough as his mouth moved to your throat. You practically mewled as his lips met the flesh of your neck, you tilted your head back to allow him full access. Your eyes closed as you bit your lip, his mouth ghosted over your skin and-

The heavy knocking sent you crashing back down to earth with a cruel bump, a tiny gasp escaping you as he pushed you back down against the wood.

“Buck…” came the muffled voice from behind the door. “We need to go. Sorry. Does your best employee need a ride home?”

“What is it, Sam?” Bucky snarled as he stood and moved towards the door.

“Rumlow…he’s apparently making a move…”

Bucky exhaled, he turned to look at you for a second, opening his mouth to speak before shaking his head in silent apology. His eyes said more than his lips ever could. You nodded in return.

He swung the door open and Sam stood there. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed or awkward to interrupt, so he was either being polite enough not to mention it, or simply hadn’t picked up on the slight heaviness in your breathing, or the way you were somewhat splayed across the desk.

“Goddamn. Alright. Let’s go,” Bucky instructed. “Sugar…you need a ride?”

“N-no. I drove. All good” you stuttered as you regained your composure.

“Sam…have someone ride back with her. Just in case”.

“Bucky I’m fine I-”

He looked at you warningly, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright…” you sighed. “Give me the motorcycle escort”.

His hard expression softened for a split second; a hint of a smile sent your way. The beginnings of a sparkle in his baby blues.

And then he was gone.