#if you go there with a medical emergency it’s a great place to be

[problemeule]

got to see my roomate’s workplace today. would not recommend

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: You tend to Alastor's wounds after the fight with Adam. The weight of almost losing him nearly breaks you.

☒ Warnings: gn!reader, hurt / comfort, implied established relationship, descriptions of injuries and stitching them up, mentions of anxiety, the reader cries a bit, comforting!alastor, and also soft!alastor, one kiss, non-sexual undressing, soft touches

☒ Word Count: 1,010

All you could think of the moment the battle ended was Alastor.

The last you saw of him, he was going head-to-head with Adam. But witnessing Nifty stab the lowly man made you worry something terrible happened to Alastor.

The moment you had a second to breathe, you rushed toward the Radio Demon's tower. A trail of blood leading toward his sanctuary sent a wave of fear down your spine. Your steps quickened at the sight, and all the worst-case scenarios flooded your mind. 

When you swung the door open, the view of Alastor blanketed your body with a cold sweat in the weight of a moment. He was doubled over the control panel, ears pinned flat to his head as the crackle in his voice echoed through the space with each breath he took. 

"Alastor!" You cried out, rushing over to his side in an instant. The sound of you calling his name caused his head to whip around. You wasted no time assessing his injuries, scanning your anxious gaze over his frame. 

"Worry not, my dear," Alastor coughed, blood spilling down the corner of his mouth. Your eyebrows knit in concern as you began raiding his radio tower, frantic to uncover a first aid kit. "Of course, I'm going to worry- you're bleeding all over the place!" You exclaimed, letting out a breath of relief as you found the emergency medical kit. 

Hastily, you began pushing Alastor's torn overcoat past his shoulders. The injured man simply gazed down at you, a weary smile decorating his visage. "Darling, I can handle this myself," Alastor clamored through gritted teeth, stopping your hands with his own before you could start unbuttoning his dress shirt. 

You shot your head up to meet his gaze, frustration evident on your face. "No, you can't! You need to let others help you when you need it! Stop trying to handle all these battles on your own. Please, Al," Your voice softened toward the end of your sentence. You didn't want to shout at him while he was wounded so badly, but Alastor's stubbornness got under your skin. Especially now. 

Alastor closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a shaky breath before releasing his grasp around your hands. "Alright, my darling... I won't stand in your way any further," His voice was barely above a whisper as he presented you with an apologetic look. You offered him a weak smile in return before undoing the buttons on his blood-soaked shirt. Peeling it off his frame with great gentleness. 

Your eyes widened in fear as you finally saw just how gnarly the gash across his torso really was. Your hands shook ever so slightly as you began threading the needle you uncovered in the first aid kit. "Tell me if it hurts too much, and we'll take a break." You expressed softly, eyes meeting his crimson ones. Alastor only nodded at you as he gritted his teeth harsher than before, bracing for impact. 

Alastor's grip on the edge of his desk tightened, leaving deep claw marks in his wake. You tried to make the stitching process as painless as possible, but there was only so much you could do. "I'm almost done, my love. You're doing so well," Alastor endured the grueling treatment, letting out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding as you finished patching him up. 

You generously applied ointment before wrapping gauze all the way around his frame. Alastor let out a hiss as the bandage came in contact with his gash. "I know, my love... just hold on a little longer for me," You snuggly secured the gauze before bringing your hands down. You grasped his hands. Clutching his large palms comfortingly as you beamed up at him. 

"There, now you're as good as new." You quipped, massaging the pads of your thumbs into the back of his palms. Alastor grinned wearily, his crimson eyes holding much adoration for you. "Thank you, my darling... I reckon I should apologize for being so uncompromising before," A slight chuckle escaped his lips as Alastor squeezed your hands right back.

You let a laugh of your own fill the room as you leaned in closer. "Ah, don't be... I'm just glad you're okay," Before you could catch up, your head came flush against his shoulder. The adrenaline finally wore off, leaving your body shaky and weak. Alastor didn't miss a beat. He gripped your hips to stabilize you instantly. "My dear, are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern, radio static crackling out ever so slightly.  

Tears began brimming in your eyes before you could stop them, and a lump formed in your throat. One that you couldn't seem to swallow down. "Sorry, I just..." A hiccup shook your body as your hands came up to his chest, being careful not to graze his injury. "If you would have died... I couldn't bear it!" 

Alastor felt his heart ache at your sorrowful cries. Your solemn words only added fuel to the fire. One of his hands unhurriedly came up to the back of your head, cradling your neck as Alastor cooed at you. "Oh, my dear," He allowed you to sob into his shoulder for as long as you needed, only releasing his grasp around your head when he heard your cries fizzle out. 

You slowly pushed yourself back against Alastor's chest, sniffling softly as you looked up at him. Before you could process it, Alastor captured your lips with his. Pouring all of his love into the chaste kiss. Your heart fluttered as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips. Your worries seemed to melt away from his embrace. Alastor was your everything, and the fact that you nearly lost him today scared the fuck out of you. 

Alastor pulled back unhurriedly, still keeping his face close to yours. He nuzzled his nose against your own before he whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, my darling. You're stuck with me for all of eternity. I expect you haven't forgotten that already!"

[dontforgetukraine]

Ukraine Donation Guide Master Post

(Ver. 2 updated Aug 13th, 2024) I will be reformatting this and adding more in the future when I have time.

Also a quick note, all of the groups I have found through twitter have been around long enough for them to be vetted by each other and the brigades they work with. In fact, a lot of these groups collaborate with each other too. Those that are in the fight for Ukraine have been diligent in calling out those that are grifters. Word spreads around quickly if an organization doesn't show up with what they promised. They also use their social media (often Twitter) as a means of transparency for their work.

Remember: When considering on whether to donate, always use your best judgement and donate to those you trust if you do not see what is listed is up to your standards.

Multi-Purpose

United 24 has various fundraisers dedicated to defense and drones, medical aid, rebuilding Ukraine, humanitarian demining, and science and education. You can pick which one you want to contribute to under their various projects.

Liberty Ukraine uses funds for humanitarian aid, medical supplies, protective gear and equipment, and rehabilitation therapy. You can choose which campaign of theirs to donate to.

Come Back Alive is a charitable foundation that supports Ukraine's military with competent assistance while also focusing on security and defense. They also have projects that use sports to help veterans rehabilitate. You can choose which campaign to donate to.

Serhiy Prytula Charity Foundation works to help both civilians and Ukraine's army. You can choose to donate to an active project or any of their general campaigns. Civilian aid campaigns cover temporary housing, supporting crisis and emergency responses, schools, demining, and healthcare. Military aid campaigns cover drones, optics units, communications equipment, and support of air defense teams.

Food Aid

World Central Kitchen works with local partners wherever they are providing food aid. They make sure meals and meal kits are what the local population eats. Even though there is no separate fundraising campaign for Ukraine (that I can see), they still do great work.

Animal Rescue

Hachiko Foundation works to help displaced pets and strays in frontline areas. They help with veterinary care, outdoor shelters, setting up feeding stations, and rehoming animals.

Medical Aid

Hospitallers (Website) is a volunteer organization of paramedics that was founded in 2014. They evacuate the wounded, provide medical aid on the frontlines, assist in rehabilitation, and transfer of the deceased to burial sites. They are also supported by Ukraine Charity. Visit Hospitallers' website to see how many they have evacuated, different methods you can donate, and more information about them.

Other

Saint Javelin (Twitter; Website) is a great place to get apparel, gear, and other cool loot to show your support for Ukraine. They don't take donations, but instead raise funds through their shop with a portion of their sales going towards humanitarian aid and critical items needed by the defenders (generators, pick-up trucks, medical supplies etc). Part of their shop has items made in Ukraine to support Ukrainian businesses. Overall, their products are high-quality. I include them due to their impactful presence in the Twitter community I follow and how they make Ukraine visible in an alternative way. Consider buying someone a gift from their shop.

The Kyiv Independent (Twitter; Website) is a great English language resource for news about Ukraine. I include them because I think supporting good journalism is incredibly important, especially now when the information space is fraught with Russian propaganda, misinformation, and disinformation. My followers have probably noticed I've pulled a lot of quotes from their stories in an effort to amplify Ukrainian voices and experiences. Look on their website for more information on different way to support them, such as their Patreon.

---

If you're on twitter, there are a number of groups and people that fundraise for Ukraine and for specific units fighting on the frontlines. If there is no official website, a PayPal for donations is listed in their profiles. When considering on whether to donate, always use your best judgement and donate to those you trust if you do not see what is listed is up to your standards.

@/Teoyaomiquu almost always has a fundraiser for Liberty Ukraine with a specified purpose. At the time of writing this, he is currently raising funds for engineering equipment such as excavators. One such excavator is already in Kursk. Follow him to stay up to date with what he's fundraising for.

Dyga's Paw (Twitter: @/dzygaspaw) is a smaller group that has recently raised funds for starlinks, drones, batteries, and Ecoflow generators. You can look at the fundraising campaigns they currently have on their website.

@/DefactoHumanity represents and founded Planet of the People with their website U(a)nited for Freedom. She frequently posts updates about their fundraisers and what their partners need. They are known for providing Frontline medical aid supplies, protective equipment and other military aid, technical equipment (starlinks, drones, scopes, etc), and infrastructure equipment (generators, vehicles, power stations, etc). They even have a merch store of the battalions they partner with if that's your jam. Here is their link tree if you wish to explore more. And in case you're curious, there is an article bout the founder here.

@/wilendhornets (Website) specialize in making high quality drones that have gotten a lot of praise from Ukraine's army. They have attracted a lot of media attention too. Check out their website for the list of articles that have been written about them. Their Twitter is very active with strike footage.

Ants Kitchen Hub (@/ants_kyiv) is a volunteer kitchen that makes dry rations for the Ukrainian army. They are more active on their other social media. To learn more about them, check out their link tree.

@/frontlinekit (Front Line Kitchen) is represented by Richard Woodruff. Originally they made shelf stable food for the Ukrainian army, but now their fundraising has branched out to other campaigns such as raising funds for medical supplies and drones. They are a well known group that many battalions have come to for help.

@/bekamaciorowski (Rebekah Maciorowski) is as combat medic and nurse who helps provide medical care to soldiers and civillians at the frontlines. She raises funds for medical supplies and other equipment, but also helps train soldiers in first aid. More of her social media that features her work can be found in her link tree.

@/UkraineAidOps (Website) is another organization battalions frequently go to for help. They fundraise for all sorts of equipment from medical supplies to drones. If you're interested, they also have a shop with patches from different brigades and flags signed by soldiers. Their shop also includes a separate section called the Victory Gallery where artifacts from the war are turned into art. This includes shells that are painted on, scrap metal from downed enemy planes are turned into keychains, and pieces of a rocket are turned into lamps.

Chris Garrett is the co-founder of Prevail. His organization deals with humanitarian demining as well as training for trauma care, training of bomb disposal, and education to the public. Prevail works with local agencies in Ukraine as well as the army.

Project Konstantin (Twitter; Website; Linktree) is still going strong after the death of their founder, British paramedic Peter Fouché. His digital ghost can be found here. They collaborate with the military, thus giving them an insight into what is dearly needed. They often raise funds for starlinks, personalized first aid kits (IFAKs), generators, portable power stations, and other nonlethal military equipment. I regret forgetting them the first time this post went around. Visit their website to see everything they have done and more. It has more information on what and how they do it than this post can cover.

One Team One Fight (Twitter; Website; Linktree) has some of the original members that worked for Ukraine Aid Ops. They formed their own group after differences with the previous one, and are still helping Ukraine. They are very visible on various social media showing what they have accomplished in their deliveries to various brigades. They're another group that seeks to bring starlinks, drones, medical supplies and protective gear to the battalions that come to them for help. Check out their website for more information on their current fundraisers, their achievements, and received recognition.

NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade (Twitter; Website) Another small group that focuses their funds on delivering drones, generators, vehicles, and saving the occasional furry companion. They are very diligent in their updates for their fundraising campaigns. Check out their website for more information and the articles written about them.

Postmaster General Boomer (Twitter; Website) focuses on humanitarian aid, animal aid, and logistics. Boomer is the beloved pet of one of the founders and the secret boss/mascot. They have many transparency reports and are diligent in reporting the various "tours" they do in getting supplies where they are needed to go. They are based in Germany but have built up many connections during their existence. They have also worked closely with Ukraine Aid Ops.

--

I am sure I have forgotten some, so please reply or comment with any more I should add to this master post. I will edit and update as I see and evaluate more.

Last updated: Aug. 13th, 2024

Version updates listed below

August 13th, 2024 Added:

Hospitallers

Saint Javelin

The Kyiv Independent

Project Konstantin

1 Team 1 Fight

NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade

Post Master General Boomer

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Corn Cob (The Surprise, Part 14)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, discussion of AFAB body parts, pregnancy times, blood, medical/miscarriage scare, invasive medical exams (hello, again, Pap smear), vague references to past abuse, happy ending Word count: 2.4k

Summary: When you find blood in your underwear, you panic. Emily races to you, both working against time to make sure the baby is okay.

Week 24: The Corn Cob

You’d thought it was going to be a normal day, a good day even. It was Friday. Emily wasn’t in the field. She’d even promised to be home on time. You’d just returned from the grocery store with ingredients to cook dinner, when you had to run to the bathroom. You were always running to the bathroom these days. Little corn cob didn’t leave a whole lot of room for your bladder.

But when you pulled down your pants, a flash of red made your stomach drop. You sat down heavily on the toilet, head reeling. You felt like you might be sick. You’d had cramps today, but that wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t supposed to be unusual. But the blood? This was way too much blood to be spotting. You looked down at your stomach, placing your hands on either side, and hoping, praying, with everything you had in you, that the little one was okay. But you hadn’t felt her kick all day. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Your breath was caught in your throat, and you couldn’t seem to pull it in. You pressed your hands to your face and noticed that you were crying, that your hands were shaking. You didn’t think you’d ever been so scared, so helpless.

You pulled out your phone, letting out a sob as your home screen came to life–one of the sonogram photos of the baby’s blurry little face. It was dialing, and suddenly you were even more scared to tell Emily. What if you had lost the baby? You didn’t think you’d ever forgive yourself if you lost her. How would Emily?

“Hi, honey!” Her voice was so bright, so happy. You felt paralyzed with fear.

You sucked in a shaky breath, and Emily’s tone changed immediately.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Emily, I’m bleeding!” you gasped, tears streaming down your face as you wrapped your arms around your baby bump.

“What!?”

You could hear her voice shift, could hear movement, and you knew she was coming. You felt the wave of panic subside just a little. Not much, but a little. Emily was coming. She was on her way. You needed her, and she was coming.

“What do you mean bleeding?!” she asked, frantic. “Bleeding where!?”

“Out my vagina!” you cried, sucking in big gulps of air that didn’t seem to ever get to your lungs. You felt lightheaded.

“Okay,” she said, and you could tell she was trying her best to stay calm, even as her voice shook, even as you knew she had to be panicking herself. “Okay. Honey? I need you to hang up and call Dr. Delgado.”

“I’m scared, Em…” Your voice was high and desperate, and tears dripped from your face.

Her voice changed again, and you heard the ambient noise of traffic. She would be here soon. She was coming. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. Alright? I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But I need you to call Dr. Delgado. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you.

“Okay. That’s good, honey. You’re doing great. Now you hang up and you call her. And then you can call me back right after, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” Emily added. And it was only then that you could really hear the fear in her voice, the absolute terror.

“I love you, too,” you told her, trying to stop a fresh wave of tears.

All the panic Emily’s voice had kept at bay came flooding back in after she hung up, and your fingers were shaky as you scrolled through your contacts to find Dr. Delgado.

The conversation was quick, no-nonsense. Just questions and answers. But as soon as Dr. Delgado determined that the bleeding wasn’t light, she got serious.

“Y/N, you need to go to the emergency room as soon as possible,” she told you.

“Is this…” You gulped. “Am I miscarrying?” You were afraid to ask, afraid to hear the answer.

“It’s rare in the second trimester, but I can’t say for sure. It’s imperative for you to get to the hospital as soon as you can.”

“Okay. I will.” You were suddenly even more scared than you’d been before.

“Give me a call once you’ve been seen,” she told you.

“Thanks, Dr. Delgado.”

Trying to pull yourself together, you got up, running to your closet for a new pair of underwear, adhering so many pads to it that you might as well have been wearing a diaper. You rang Emily on speakerphone, and she picked up immediately.

“What’d she say?!”

“I need to go to the hospital,” you told her, stumbling as you pulled on a pair of maternity leggings.

Emily exhaled shakily. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Meet me in the parking lot. Are you okay? Can you make it down there?”

“Mmhm.” You sniffed. “How’d you get here so fast?!”

“I took a Bureau SUV. Morgan’s driving. We’ve got the lights and sirens going.”

“Please hurry,” you said, quiet and scared, locking the door behind you and sprinting to the elevator.

“I’m coming, baby. Just a little bit longer. It’s gonna be okay.”

Emily quite literally leapt out of the passenger side of the SUV as it screeched into the parking lot. Her eyes were wide and alarmed as she ran to you, nearly tackling you in a hug. You were so relieved to see her you thought your knees might buckle under you. Seeing her triggered a fresh wave of tears, and she cupped your face, wiping them away.

“It’s alright, honey. I’m here.” She led you to the back of the SUV, never letting go of your arm, never removing her hand from your back where she held you steady. Then, slamming the door, she sprinted to the other side, jumping in the backseat with you.

“Drive,” she told Morgan.

“Jesus Christ, Derek!” you exclaimed, as you peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road, swerving and moving at speeds that would be illegal in any other situation.

“Sorry, mama,” he called back. “Gotta get you to the hospital.”

“Just close your eyes, honey,” Emily said, kissing the side of your head, and pulling you protectively into her.

Emily scanned you up and down, one of her hands resting on your baby bump. You were trying very hard to keep from crying.

“Are you in pain?” she asked quietly.

You shook your head, blinking back tears. “Cramps, but I didn’t think anything of it. I should’ve known something was wrong. I just– I thought she was sleepy today. I haven’t felt her move. God, I’m so stupid! What if she’s–” You sucked in a shaky breath.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Emily said, placing her hands on either side of your face. “You’re spiraling. We don’t know that anything’s wrong. Let’s not worry until we have to.”

But she was worried, too. You could tell. Your eyes were swimming. “I’m so scared, Em,” you squeaked.

“Me too,” she sighed, pressing her forehead to yours.

At the ER, you thought Emily might actually assault a health professional to get you seen faster. Your anxiety came out in tears. Emily’s anxiety came out in her being absolutely, terrifyingly authoritative. You kept tugging on her sleeve, hissing, “Em, don’t be mean! They’re just doing their jobs!”

But you had to hand it to her. She got shit done. You were in an OBGYN exam room with a doctor–”A doctor, not a nurse!” Emily insisted–within fifteen minutes of your arrival. Which, in your experience, was nearly unheard of.

The doctor sat and rolled over to the exam table. You sat, holding Emily’s hand tightly, already in the hospital gown one of the nurses had given. “Thank you so much,” you’d said, trying to make up for Emily’s brashness. He held a clipboard, reading the scribbled intake notes the nurse had taken.

“Alright, Ms… Y/L/N?”

You nodded.

“I’m Dr. Booker. I see you’ve had some vaginal bleeding today. Would you classify it as a lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you replied, voice shaky.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Any pain, nausea, fever?”

“Umm, just some cramps. Nothing really bad.”

He scribbled a bit more.

“Okay.” He set the clipboard down and slapped his hands on his thighs, rolling even closer to you. “Mind if I take a look?”

You gulped and nodded, tears threatening at your eyes again, as you watched him roll to the nearby cabinets and pull out a speculum. Emily squeezed your hand, watching you sympathetically. She knew that you did, in fact, mind if he took a look. This was your worst nightmare as far as doctor visits went. Not only did someone have to touch you, look at you, shove something inside of you, but it was a man. And you hadn’t had any time at all to emotionally prepare.

You trembled. Emily pressed her lips to your ear as the doctor pulled on gloves. “Do you want me to ask for a woman?” She was so quiet you could barely hear her.

You shook your head, staring hard at the ceiling. “I just want to know what’s wrong,” you whispered. “As fast as possible.”

She kissed your forehead, smoothing your hair as you lay back. You breathed deeply, trying to prepare yourself for the cold metal, the pressure, the feeling of being violated that somehow never went away, no matter how many times you had to do this stupid examination. But this time, it was for your baby. And you would do anything, anything at all, to protect your child.

So you braced yourself against the speculum, sucking in a shaky breath as the doctor forced it inside of you, seemingly oblivious to the ordeal he was facilitating. Emily held your hand tight in one of hers, the other gently rubbing the side of your face, catching any tears that fell.

She hated this. She hated this for you. But she loved you so deeply, so desperately for being so brave. She’d always known that you were the one for her, had known from the very beginning, but she knew even more now, in this moment, that she couldn’t have found a better person to have a child with. You were mothering, she realized. Right now, on this exam table, choking back tears, trying hard not to write away from the doctor’s hands inside of you. You were being the baby’s mom. And she loved you so much for it.

“Ah!” the doctor exclaimed, rolling away for a moment and leaving the speculum inside you. You felt your heart drop. You couldn’t breathe as you waited for him to roll back, to finish his thought. Emily’s leg bounced so fast and so hard that the sound seemed to take over the whole room.

The doctor rolled back with a petri dish, and you flinched as he reached back inside you. You felt a pinch and gasped, then grimaced as the doctor placed a small stalk of tissue into the petri dish and shut the lid.

“Cervical polyp,” he said. “Nothing to worry about. The little buggers just bleed a lot.”

“Oh, thank god.” Emily let out a shaky sigh, bending forward and pressing her hand over her mouth.

“So the baby’s okay?” you asked, terrified to hear the answer.

“Healthy as a horse,” he nodded. “I can do an ultrasound if it’ll make you feel better.”

You both nodded vigorously.

“What about Y/N?” Emily pressed. “Is she okay? What is a… cervical polyp?”

He waved her off. “She’s completely fine. Cervical polyps are just irregular growths. Very common. Almost always benign.”

“Almost!?” Emily exclaimed, sitting up rail straight, eyebrows furrowed.

“We’ll send it off for testing just to be sure, but 99% of them are benign.”

Your body shook with relief, but you couldn’t quite let the anxiety go. Not until you’d seen the baby.

Emily bit her nails as the doctor squirted the gel on your belly, rubbing the wand over your baby bump.

You let out a relieved sob as the baby’s head came into view, and Emily planted kiss after kiss on your cheek. The sound of the heartbeat filled the room, and you and Emily pressed your heads together, both weepy, both more relieved than perhaps you’d ever been.

“All’s well, ladies,” he said, removing his gloves and handing you a paper towel to wipe off the gel. “It’s been a pleasure. A nurse will bring your discharge papers by. You might experience some cramping, and the bleeding won’t stop right away. But it should slow and stop within the next 24 hours.”

“Thank you so much,” Emily said, rising to shake his hand. She was all charm now that you and the baby were okay.

But, even still, she did not let her hands leave you even once as you walked into the waiting room, Derek wrapping his wide arms around both of you.

“I’m not gonna lie, mama, you had me worried,” he said, squeezing your hand. He left to get the car, and you and Emily made your way outside to wait for him.

“Jesus Christ,” Emily mumbled shakily, her arm around your waist to steady you. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

You frowned at her. “You’ve literally been held hostage. You had to fake your own death.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, pulling you into her chest and resting her chin on your head. “And the thought of losing you or the little guy is way worse than either of those things.”

Emily held your face between her hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead before melding her lips with yours. You sighed into her, the anxiety and panic of the day rolling off of you.

You jumped at the sound of a car horn. Derek smirked, rolling down the window. “I swear, you two can’t go two minutes without being all over each other.”

You blushed, and Emily flipped him off, but you were both loose and happy with relief. You let Emily wrap you in her arms in the backseat, knowing that she’d need that for a while–to hold you close, protectively, to reassure herself that you were safe.

You knew you’d get home and lay down and she’d get you your heating pad, and then she’d pull your head into her chest, lace her legs with yours. And you’d feel like nothing bad in the world could touch you, not in Emily’s arms.

[miniwheat77]

Cologne. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, p in v sex, reader pining after Price, brief mentions of masturbation(f), age gap, unprotected sex, (sorry if I missed any.)

(forgive me this isn't edited.)

He drove you crazy. His sweet smile. His huge hands. Cargo pants that squeezed his thighs just right. The fact that he wore cologne even though it wasn’t always allowed in the military, not to mention whatever fucking Cologne it was smelled amazing.

You ended up on the task force by chance. You were only in your 20's, but you tested really well. Laswell and John happened to be on the base you were on because of a medical emergency of one of the extra members on the task force. He was injured badly enough to the point he’d be unable to aid in anymore missions. They were both talking when they came across you sparring with a couple of other soldiers, seeing how quick you were on your feet, deciding to watch you when it came to shooting and stealth too.

For how young you were, you were a good soldier. It was John who made the first move. He found your Commander and asked to recruit you.

He didn’t mind, he knew it would be a great opportunity for you. Since you were a good soldier he knew you would do great. John and Laswell offered you the position and you didn’t hesitate to accept it. The first time John approached you, he introduced himself as Captain Price and shook your hand. His grip made you weak in the knees. His hands were massive and his smile was fucking adorable. It was the ride back with him and Kate that changed everything for you. His toned stomach showed through his shirt as he drove, hands on the steering wheel. He talked through gritted teeth at the mention of the wounded soldier who would be let go from the task force. He cared about his people.

Needless to say it was uncomfortable ride back to the base. You shifted uncomfortably a lot. Heat pooling between your legs. An uncomfortable knot in your lower stomach. This was only the first of many restless days and nights you would experience on base.

When you arrived, everyone welcomed you with open arms. You settled in just fine, you even enjoyed it more than the last base you were on. It did feel a little odd that you were the youngest on base, but you didn’t mind the teasing. Captain Price took you under his wing immediately. Anytime you were down or acting different than usual, he was asking you how you were. If everything was okay, he treated you like you were his daughter and you hated it. You wanted to be closer to him, you wanted to be with him.

The sleepless nights, distracted shifts, the hurt feelings you always had. It was too much.

You were on laundry for a while. You were washing everything. Bedding, clothes. Everything.

Laundry was easy. Load them up, and wait. Your hands glided across a piece of fabric, the familiar deep gray shirt you’d seen him wearing. You swallowed hard, looking around before bringing it up to your nose. His cologne still fresh on it. The scent of it alone sends chills up your spine. You tuck it into a clean sheet and set it there for a moment. You felt dirty for taking his things, but the thought of it alone drives you crazy. Once you finish the laundry, you rush to your room. Once you’re inside, you lock the door behind you.

You can’t help it as you lay back, bringing it up to your nose, fingers dancing across your bare thigh. Moving lower to where you needed it. His scent throws you into another world, eyes rolling back.

When you finish, you have to return to doing laundry, like nothing happened. This becomes a normal thing. Taking his clothes.

The scent of him always pushes you over the edge.

You like to imagine his body weight on you, pinning you down as he ruts his hips into you, deep inside of you. Reaching places untouched by another. The chills that rise on your skin at the thought of it, shivers moving through you. You don’t know how much you can take before you burst. You feel like a freak, a pervert. Constantly worried that he’ll find out what you’re doing and be disgusted by your actions. You don’t want to feel like this, but can’t help it. He invades your thoughts like a plague, an illness. You’re obsessed and it’s sickening how easy he’s trapped your mind.

You’re completely spaced out, staring down at the sheet in your hands. You don’t hear anyone coming. Not until a hand is on your shoulder and you’re jumping. “Woah!” He mumbles. “You alright darling?”

“W-wha- yeah. Yeah I’m good.” You breathe. “I was talking to you but you weren’t replying. Is everything okay?” He asks. “Y-yeah. It’s fine. I was just.. spacing out. Didn’t sleep well.” John can see the small beads of sweat forming at your hairline. Something is stressing you out. “I can finish the laundry if you wanted to get some rest.” He tries to soothe you with a hand on your shoulder. Seeing the way you freeze up when he touches you. “I’m alright. I’m almost done anyways.” You smile nervously. “Okay. If you’re sure. I was just going to ask, have you seen my army green shirt? I thought I put it in the wash the other day but haven’t seen it.” He asks. You need to come up with something, and quick. “Umm. I think I did see it yeah. I might’ve mixed it up with someone else’s, I’ll keep an eye out for it.” You smile. The thought of you burying your face into the fabric, cumming hard around your fingers fills your mind. “Okay. Thank you Y/N.” He smiles. You nod your head with a small smile. When he’s gone, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

You quickly finish the laundry, heading toward your room.

You didn’t know it, but he knew.

You left your door cracked, in a hurry to get to that shirt of his that you loved so much. The cologne was starting to fade away from it and you knew that you needed to wash it and give it back soon. He happened to be passing by, thought he’d check on his new recruit. He sure as hell didn’t expect to see you, fingers knuckle deep in your pussy with his shirt up to your nose.

He figured it was a crush, thought it would go away with time. But every single day around the same time. Your door was closed and locked. He knew what you were doing behind that door. Especially when his clothes would disappear for a couple days before reappearing. He liked the game. He liked to see how nervous you got around him. He didn’t know why out of everyone on base you could’ve liked, you chose him. But he liked it. Some days, he wanted to confess to you that he knew what you were doing. Just to see those red blushing cheeks, that little stutter you do. He had a plan. He like your little game, so he'd play along.

“Hey, will you drop my clothes into my room for me? I’ve got a meeting here in a minute.” He peeks into the laundry room. “Yes sir.” You swallow hard. “Good girl.”

He wants to chuckle at the way your body goes rigid as he says those words, but doesn’t. He makes his way back to his room, closing his door and waiting.

When he hears your footsteps coming a while later, he waits behind his door. You come inside, he can tell you’re nervous. It’s your Captains room, of course you’re nervous. You place his clothes down on his bed and this is when he pushes the door closed with his foot. When it slams behind you, you whirl around. Your eyes are wide, lips are parted slightly. “Jesus.” You sigh. Placing your hand on your chest. “You scared me.” You laugh. Your heart thumps hard in your ribcage. He smiles, his arms are crossed. “See you’re finished with my gray shirt, which are you going to take next hm? The one I’ve got on?” He smiles. He can see the way your blood runs cold. Eyes wide. “I- what?”

He laughs, stepping closer, watching the way you step back away from him. “I know what you’re doing with my clothes darling.” You keep quiet, swallowing hard.

“I just don’t understand, why me huh?” He laughs. “Aren’t I old enough to be your dad?” Your cheeks are burning and your eyes are everywhere but on his. “I…” you start. But your lips form to a line. If you could crawl into a hole and die, that’d be best case scenario. He moves closer to you. His arms still crossed as he closes in on you. “Do you get off on that hm? That I’m so much older than you? There’s something about me that gets you going, it can’t just be cologne.” You’re so embarrassed and cornered, you want to run away and disappear off of the face of the earth. Your eyes flicker to the door beside him and he laughs. “You going to run from me? That won’t fix this." He laughs. Moving in closer. "If you run, I'll just catch you." He mumbles it quietly.

You swallow hard.

The backs of your knees are pushed up against the metal frame of the cot he’s sleeping on. A gasp leaving your lips when he pushes you back onto it. You sit up quickly, staring up at him. “Cmon, cat got your tongue? Say something.” He chuckles. You pause for a moment. “I- I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry.” Your voice is quiet and unsteady. He bites his lip slightly. “How about.. a thank you.” He smirks, making you look up at him in confusion. “What?”

“For letting you borrow my shirts. For all of those orgasms you got from me without me even touching you. Go on.” He nods, a smile on his face. “Thank me.”

You look up at him, the look in your eyes is pure sin. “T-thank you, Captain.” You blush. He moves right up to the edge of the cot, closing you in. “That’s my good girl.” He breathes. “Take your shirt off.” He nods. “W-what?” You look up at him. “Come on, take it off. That’s an order, darling.”

You look at his door nervously. “It’s locked. Pay attention.” He breathes. Lifting your chin up to look at him. The look in your eyes, it’s pure lust. It always is when you’re looking at him. It drives him crazy. You hesitate for a second. Grasping the hem of your shirt, nervously lifting it over your head. “Bra too.”

You sit up further, unclasping it and sliding it off. Setting it down. You take in a sharp breath when he pulls his shirt off. “Put it on.” He tosses it to you. You pick up the very comfortable fabric. Slipping it over your head. The smell of his cologne invades your senses. A whine leaving your lips. He laughs. “Don’t worry darling. I’ll give you what you need.” He breathes. He lowers himself down to one knee at the edge of the bed. Helping you remove your pants. Revealing you to him once he’s gotten them off. He sighs. “So fucking pretty.” He mumbles. Running his fingers up your slit, feeling you shiver under his touch. “How.. how did you find out?” You look down at him. His thumb circles over your clit.

“Passed by your room when you were meant to be in the laundry room. You left your door cracked, in such a hurry.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “Knuckle deep in this pretty pussy to the thought of me.” He shakes his head, leaning into you. Pressing a kiss to your clit, smiling when you shudder. He kisses it again, sliding his tongue over you. Your thighs shiver slightly, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around you and holding you still, moving his other leg so that he’s on his knees at the edge of the bed. Gliding his tongue through your folds. “You have to be quiet for me. Use the shirt.” He smirks. You nod your head. Lifting the fabric up to your mouth to muffle yourself. He laps at your entrance, keeping a steady pace with his tongue. You focus on the ceiling of his room. He starts slow at first. Gentle, small glides of his tongue. Waiting for you to get used to him. He knows you don’t have much experience, if any. So you’re going to be really sensitive at first. He gives you a minute to adjust to him. Eventually flattening his tongue and pushing down hard, flicking his tongue faster. You shudder, thighs clenching up tight. He holds you still though, you’re not going to squirm out of his grasp that easily.

He pulls away for a second, his facial hair glistening in your arousal. He can’t help but chuckle at the way you react to him. Flushed cheeks, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead. "Doing good for me darling. Can you take more?" He asks. You nod your head. He raises his right hand, gliding one of his fingers over your opening. He gathers up your arousal on it before pressing it into you. You tense up at the intrusion, gasping into the shirt. He lowers his face into you again, tonguing your clit. He adds another finger while he laps at your clit. You wrap a hand in his hair, tugging slightly. You whine out when he groans into you. He can feel you tightening around his fingers, you're getting close. Your thighs shake and he can't help but smile into you. Right when you're on that edge, right about to topple over the ledge into pure bliss, he pulls away. Drawing a mewl out of you. He can't help but laugh. Looking down at you as he stands up. "Relax, I'll give you more." He breathes. He starts kicking off his boots, reaching for his belt buckle. That's when it starts to hit you, he's going to fuck you.

He finally takes a second to drink you in. Your cheeks are flushed red and you look dazed. You look fucked out and he hasn't even fucked you yet. He frees himself from his cargo pants and you swallow hard. He's well endowed.

He moves you with ease, like you're a feather. Turning you so that he has space to move between your legs. He runs his hand back through his hair and you clamp your eyes closed.

He looks confused. "You alright darling?" He asks. "Yes. Just... overwhelmed." You breathe. "Do you want me to stop?" He asks.

"No, please." Your pleas have him chuckling to himself. His deep laugh sends chills down your spine. Like he's making fun of you for being so desperate. "Good girl." He raises your thighs up higher on his hips and lines himself up with your entrance, dipping the head of his cock into you. Seeing the way your eyes widen. Letting your head rest back into his pillow. His entire room smells like him. His sheets, his pillow. Him.

You can't help it as you wrap your legs around him, forcing his pelvis into you. Until he's pressed right up against you. "Fuck-" He gasps. The sudden feeling of you wrapped around him has him gasping out.

"Eager little thing aren't you?" He smiles. Running his thumb along your bottom lip. He rocks his hips into you and all at once it hits you. All of those day dreams you'd had of the way he'd feel, didn't even come close to as good as this felt. His touch lit fires on your skin. Your walls clenched around him, feeling every inch of him, every vein.

He picks up his pace, sliding deeper. You gasp out, clutching onto him. He shakes slightly, the way you're gripping him is almost too much to hold himself together. He grits his teeth, holding onto your hips tight as he rocks his hips into you. He forces you down into the bed with each hard thrust he takes, watching fall further apart beneath him. "Fuck... So good. You feel so fucking goad baby." He pants. He lowers one of his hands from your hip, resting it onto your swollen nub. Feeling your hips cower away from his touch. "Sensitive are we?" He chuckles. You whine out again and he laughs. "Quiet sweetheart. We don't need anyone finding out about this do we?" You shake your head after he says it. Not really caring about it. You didn't care if the entire task force heard you at this moment. You were too dazed to care.

He lowers himself into, resting more of his body weight onto you. Placing that pressure onto your body that you had daydreamed about so frequently when you had his shirts. Before you can stop it, you have tears gathering in your eyes, unable to stop them as they stream down your cheeks. "I'm- I-" You whine out. "S'alright. Cum for me. Show me what you got pretty girl." He smirks. He circles your clit with his finger still, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You shake when you finally reach your peak, walls throbbing around him as you cum. He clamps a hand over your mouth, smirking when they muffle the moans you were letting out. You could get him into so much trouble. "Just a bit more sweetheart. Gonna fill this pretty pussy. S'what you've been dreaming about right?"

Your hands grip the sheets as he overstimulates you. His pants get more desperate and labored as he approaches his own orgasm. He grits his teeth, he's so deep inside of you, you've never felt so full. He curses when he reaches his high. Lowering his head to rest against your chest. Panting hard as he pauses his thrusts. "Bloody hell." He gasps. Feeling your chest rise and fall with every breath you take.

It's silent for a minute, and than he's climbing off of you. You sit up, sliding to the edge of his cot as you redress yourself. Reaching to take his shirt off. "Stop." His stern voice has you freezing up. "I didn't say to take it off did I?" He laughs. Once he's redressed, he sits next to you on the bed. "Need something to tide you over for when I'm gone right?" He laughs. Raising up the bottle of cologne he has and spraying your chest with it, seeing you blush. "Although, you can always just come to me when you need something. Don't have to steal my shirts anymore, bad girl." He bites his lower lip.

You roll your eyes, embarrassed. He grips your chin, turning you to kiss him.

[lawqual1ty]

Heart drawings (Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader)

Pov: After finishing your duties you end up hanging out with Law during his work but end up getting bored which results in you adding a little something to your captain's skin.

Warning: too much fluff (go get some insulin), reader has (implied) ADHD symptoms

You had never been known to be a person that could sit still for long, whether it was moving your leg around or playing with something in your hand you had to always be doing something or else your brain would go insane, which got you to offer your helping hand in a lot of situations once you joined the Heart pirates.

However there would always be days, like today, that there was not much you could do even if you asked to, so you had to stick to reading or studying for the most part after you finished your daily duties.

You were in your room reading a few of the medicine books that your Captain , Trafalgar Law, had generously lent you for your free time, however well... You were struggling... And a lot.

"Wait... What was I reading...?" You grunted, this was the third time in a row you had read the words on the book only to forget seconds later what exactly you had read with great speed. You were getting irritated. You wanted to learn more about how to create different types of medicine so that you could help your crew but your brain was having a hard time concentrating, you rubbed the bridge of your nose with annoyance.

"I need a break..." You muttered as you softly closed the book, a light tap from the cover giving you the signal that you could head off.

You wandered around for a while looking for something to do, many of your crewmates were already hanging out with each other, chatting, drinking and some even helping out to clean the medical bay, you wanted to offer a helping hand in hopes of entertaining your inevitable boredom.

"hey, what are you guys doing?" You asked softly approaching Sachi and Bepo who were cleaning a few medical supplements, the latter turning to look at you.

"Oh, we were just cleaning and sharpening some of our usual tools in case we get an emergency" Bepo tilted his head slightly "Did you need anything Y/N?"

You smiled at the sweet gesture of Bepo, shaking your head slightly at his question "Nope, I was just wondering if you guys needed any help"

Bepo looked over at the different tools placed in display, seeming to think about your question a bit too much before turning to look at you with an apologetic look on his face "Not really... I'm so sorry"

He apologized as usual, his tone shifting to a more melancholic one making you chuckle nervously, you never enjoyed seeing him like this but he was just so sweet that you understood where this attitude of his came from, you shook your hands in front of you in a way of excusing yourself, almost as if the one that had to be apologizing should be you "No no it's okay, no need to apologize Bepo..." His eyes lit up with relief as you didn't seem mad at him for rejecting your help, it made you feel relieved yourself.

You sighed deeply with a soft smile "Anyway, good luck you too" Sachi smiled at you warmly as well as Bepo

"Thank you! We'll make sure that everything is right! Oh..." You were about to leave when Sachi's words seemed to try and stop you in your tracks "If you go see the captain tell him we are lacking some oxygen tanks".

Your eyes widened at his words, why did he think you were going to see the captain? Out of shock you just nodded with a soft but shy smile "Sure thing, I'll make sure to inform him once I see him" with those last words you waved at the duo and walked away.

A sigh escaped your lips as you kept walking, you didn't originally intend to see your Captain but now thanks to Sachi and Bepo you sort of had an excuse... Right? You made your way through the cold but oddly comforting halls of the Polar Tang, you had not been here for long but these halls had definitely grown on you... Maybe they weren't the best looking but the people around them made it feel like a home to you.

You finally arrived at the office door of your captain, you were a tad bit nervous to interrupt him but... You had a job to do so you might as well shake that nervousness off and knock, which you did.

"Come in..." A light husky voice invited you inside, you breathed softly.

"Please excuse me..." You muttered before placing your hand in the door handle and opened it, a light creak welcoming you inside to the sight of your captain with big eyebags under his eyes as he drowned in paperwork, he didn't even raise his eyesight to acknowledge you "Yes? What is it Y/N-ya?".

You took a deep breath before speaking.

"Sachi informed me that we are short of oxygen tanks"

"Oh right... Write it down on the paper list and we'll get some more on the next island..."

He didn't even budge, and honestly neither did you... You knew that after this interaction you wouldn't have much to do later which made you a bit sad... So you just stood there, staring at your captain for a bit. He seemed to notice it, after all an exasperated sigh escaped his lips, his grey eyes slowly rising to look at you with a piercing cold gaze "Anything else?" He spoke, cold and firmly, questioning why you were still there in the first place... That should have been the end of your interaction, informing him was the only reason you came in there after all, right? Then why didn't you respond...? Your mind started racing...

"Captain..." Before you were fully aware of your actions you took a step forward and spoke "Do you... Mind if I stay for a bit?"

You caught a glimpse of surprise in your Captain's eyes, those grey spheres seeming to warm up for a moment at your offer. But just as quickly as it appeared it went away only for his attention to shift back to his paperwork.

"I... I'm sorry..." You were quick to apologize, your voice wavering ever so slightly

"I didn't mean to--"

"Go on."

You froze "What...?"

"I said you can stay..."

His words snapped you back to reality, he was... Allowing you to stay, you had no space for words, you just nodded and moved a chair over next to his desk taking a seat politely next to him as he kept on working.

He didn't budge at all, if anything it seemed like his concentration increased thanks to your presence, the mere idea made you happy as you sat there next to him.

Unfortunately you started getting bored once more, as thrilling as it was watching your captain work through his paperwork with graze, not budging at all, it had gotten boring after a few minutes.

You started looking around finding yourself with a pen, you softly took it into your hands and started fiddling with it... Suddenly, an idea sparked in your brain. You took the cap off it and started scribbling in your hand, trying to see if the pen was smooth enough to draw on your soft skin, you smiled brightly once you confirmed your suspicions: it was a good pen and it drew a perfect black ray on your skin with ease.

Once you discovered this you started drawing on your hands, starting off with a skeletal hand to practice the location of different bones in the hand to less professional stuff like hearts and small animals. You were entertained by your own scribbles when all of a sudden you were interrupted by Law grunting and leaning backwards on his chair.

He had his left arm laid across the chair, his tattooed hand dangling in the air, while his right arm stroked his face with obvious frustration. You stared at him then back at the pen you were holding, slowly but steadily a smirk formed on your lips.

Without a warning you scooted closer to your Captain, he didn't even realize you were closer to him until he felt your hands take a hold of his left arm, he flinched but didn't move his arm at all... They say curiosity killed the cat ... And curiosity had definitely gotten to him as he looked at you take his arm with your hand and start passing the pen around his skin in delicate but firm traces.

"What are you doing?" He questioned with a furrowed expression

"Drawing" you spoke bluntly as you focused on the piece of art that you were doing in his arm "I got bored..."

Your response caught him off guard, his eyes wide as he stared at you for a bit. A small smile formed on his lips "I need to check your medical record..."

His soft tone was like a way of signaling you something...of what he really meant: he didn't mind you drawing on him... You looked over at him for a moment only to smile and return to your drawing, you didn't know much what you were doing you just followed your heart as you scribbled. Slowly but steadily the drawing took form into a star surrounded by wavy lines that formed what almost looked like a tattoo design, you even went out of your way to draw small hearts, a secret confession of your feelings to your Captain (not that he would notice... Right?) You leaned back with a satisfied smile as you looked at your work, you looked over at Law who seemed entranced into one of his books, he hadn't budged during your whole art process. Once you leaned back he hummed softly, his eyes never leaving his book at all "You done?" He asked politely, you nodded.

"Yeah I did!"

"Good... My arm was starting to fall asleep..."

You couldn't help but laugh at his snarky comment "At least you now got another cool tattoo"

He huffed with a slight smirk "Doubt it..." You acted offended at his words giving him a light push on his shoulder winning a soft laugh from him.

"You haven't even seen it!"

"I don't need to..."

"Oh come on... You have seen my drawings!"

A soft chuckle was the only response you got, it made you smile, although he acted as if he probably didn't like it you knew that he did... Or that's what you'd like to believe...

And trust me he did...

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A few days after the drawing incident you were wandering around the Polar Tang heading to the kitchen to get something to eat as you were pretty hungry.

You waltzed around when a characteristic husky voice caught your attention in an instant, it came from the kitchen. Following the voice you peaked through the door finding your captain talking with Penguin about something you didn't quite catch, all you knew was that it was something serious judging by Law's and Penguin's expression.

You stood there for a bit waiting for the right moment to enter when all of a sudden you noticed a small detail on your Captain's left arm, your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed a light pink...

What did you see?

Well, you saw your drawing tattooed onto his arm... That was the only reasonable explanation as to why it still looked so bright and vivid, after all a few days had passed since you did it and unless Law had taken extreme care of it it should have already been at least a little bit vanished, just like the drawings you did on your own skin from that same day.

Penguin was walking away once he had finished speaking to Law, which was your signal to pounce.

You slowly made your way towards Law catching his attention once you were hovering behind him, he glanced at him over his shoulder "Y/N-ya...?"

His question was left in the air once you took his left arm rising it to your face, much to his surprise, you scanned the drawing carefully confirming your suspicions: he had indeed tattooed it onto his skin. You turned to look to a flustered Law with a bright smile.

"You actually tattooed my drawing?!" You asked in both surprise and excitement, Law covered his face with his hand, a blush creeping its way to his cheeks in an instant

"Shut up..."

You laughed.

Maybe you should draw on him more often when you get bored...

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 12 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff

WC: 4.3k

A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.

Divider credit to @saradika

November 4, 1999

At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.

Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.

You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.

Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”

“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”

You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 

“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 

Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 

“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”

You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 

Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?

Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 

Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 

But this feels…different. 

“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 

Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 

“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  

He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 

“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”

Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 

“Ev, I think?”

Shit. 

Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”

You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 

After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”

You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”

Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”

It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 

You hope. 

Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 

Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 

As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 

Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”

Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”

“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”

“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 

There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 

“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 

Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.

“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 

Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 

“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 

“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 

The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 

Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 

“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 

The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 

“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”

He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 

5:46 PM. 

You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.

Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.

Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–

“I’m here!” 

Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.

He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.

“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 

His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”

You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”

He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”

It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”

“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.

Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”

“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”

“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”

You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.

“I love you.” 

His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 

You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 

“I love you, too.”

It all happened so quickly. 

One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 

“You really can’t feel that?”

“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”

After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 

And then a nurse rushes in. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”

 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”

The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”

It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 

He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.

“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.

You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.

“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 

Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 

“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.

He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 

As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 

You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”

“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”

Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”

He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”

Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 

But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 

“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”

Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 

Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 

“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”

Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”

Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”

“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”

“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”

“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 

Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”

It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 

“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”

Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”

Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 

Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 

But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 

--

[1onescu]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 - aubrey griffin

Aubrey Griffin sat in the stands, a UConn Huskies jersey draped over her shoulders, but her heart was firmly with the Iowa Hawkeyes tonight. Her eyes scanned the court, searching for her girlfriend, y/n y/l/n, who was warming up with her Iowa teammates. It had been a tough loss the last time UConn faced Iowa, but the respect and admiration for Iowa had only grown since then. It was why Aubrey and her family had come to cheer for Iowa today.

UConn and Iowa had forged a strong bond over the years, a mutual respect that extended beyond the court. As the teams exchanged good luck before the game, Aubrey caught the y/n's eye and gave her a small, encouraging smile. y/n, whose heart always raced at the sight of Aubrey, returned the smile nervously. She knew Aubrey wanted her to meet her family tonight, but her anxiety gnawed at her. What if they didn't like her?

Aubrey's family had made the trip too, their respect for Iowa deepening after their last encounter. They were excited to meet y/n, having heard so much about her from Aubrey. "You'll do great, I promise," Aubrey had whispered to her earlier, but the reader still felt a knot in her stomach.

Aubrey's mother, a kind woman with a warm smile, had always been supportive of her daughter's choices. Her father, a man of few words but deep convictions, had shared stories of his own basketball days and the importance of team spirit and respect for opponents. They were eager to meet the person who had captured their daughter's heart.

As the game began, the reader tried to push her nerves aside and focus on the game. Iowa needed this win, and she was determined to give it her all. The adrenaline coursing through her veins helped, but she couldn't entirely shake off the anxiety about meeting Aubrey's family.

On the court, y/n was in her element. She moved with grace and precision, her focus intense. She knew the eyes of the crowd were on her, but more importantly, she knew Aubrey was watching. That thought gave her strength. The first quarter flew by, with Iowa maintaining a slim lead. The reader made several impressive plays, drawing cheers from the Iowa fans and a proud smile from Aubrey.

During a timeout, y/n glanced at the stands again. Aubrey's family was sitting together, and she could see them clapping and cheering for Iowa. It was a strange but comforting sight. Aubrey had told her how her family respected good sportsmanship and strong character, regardless of team affiliations. Still, y/n couldn't help but worry about making a good impression.

As the game progressed, y/n's focus was tested. One of the player's on the other team, jealous of the attention and praise y/n had been receiving, decided to take matters into her own hands. During the second half, she tripped y/n, sending her sprawling to the floor. The gymnasium echoed with gasps, and Aubrey's heart stopped as she watched her girlfriend hit the ground hard, her nose starting to bleed. All she could see was her teammate, Kate go up to the ref who -looks like- didn't saw what happened, and didn't blow her whistle.

Medical staff rushed to y/n's side, helping her to the bench. As she sat there, trying to steady her breath and wipe away the blood, Aubrey's father approached her. "Hey, kiddo," he said gently, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Take a deep breath. You've got this. We believe in you."

His words were like a balm to her frazzled nerves. y/n nodded, her determination reignited. With her nose bandaged and her mind focused, she returned to the court, playing with a fire that had been sparked by Aubrey's father's encouragement. She moved with a new confidence, scoring points and making plays that left the crowd in awe.

Iowa emerged victorious, the final buzzer sounding like a triumph. y/n, exhausted but exhilarated, looked up at the stands where Aubrey and her family were cheering loudly. Gathering her courage, she walked over to where they stood.

Aubrey met her halfway, wrapping her in a tight hug. "You were amazing," she whispered. "Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

With a deep breath, y/n approached Aubrey's family. "This is her," Aubrey said proudly. "Mom, Dad, this is the girl I've been telling you about."

Aubrey's mother smiled warmly, pulling y/n into a hug. "We've heard so much about you. It's wonderful to finally meet you."

Aubrey's father nodded approvingly. "You played with heart out there. Welcome to the family."

y/n felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over her. The anxiety that had plagued her before the game was gone, replaced by a sense of belonging and acceptance. She had not only won the game but had also won the hearts of Aubrey's family.

As the night wore on, the two teams mingled, y/n staying close to Aubrey and her family. She realized that she had nothing to fear and that with Aubrey by her side, she could face anything. And as she looked around at the smiling faces, she knew that this was just the beginning of something truly special.

After the initial introductions, y/n found herself in a conversation with Aubrey's mother, who was curious about her background and how she got into basketball. "I've always admired players who show such dedication and passion," he said. "Aubrey speaks so highly of you."

y/n blushed, feeling both proud and bashful. "Thank you. Basketball has always been a big part of my life. It means a lot to have your support."

Aubrey's father chimed in, sharing stories of his own playing days and the lessons he learned on the court. "It's not just about the game," he said. "It's about character and how you handle yourself off the court as well. You showed a lot of resilience out there tonight."

y/n smiled, feeling a connection with Aubrey's family growing stronger with each passing moment. They were kind, supportive, and exactly the type of people she hoped they would be.

As the evening progressed, Aubrey and y/n managed to steal a few moments alone. They walked around the perimeter of the gym, talking quietly and sharing smiles. "I told you they would love you," Aubrey said, giving the reader's hand a squeeze.

"You were right," y/n admitted, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Thank you for being there for me."

"Always," Aubrey replied. "We’re a team, on and off the court."

y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest. Aubrey's words meant everything to her. They had been through so much together, and tonight felt like a new chapter in their relationship.

As they rejoined their teammates and families, y/n couldn't help but feel grateful. The support from Aubrey and her family, the encouragement from her teammates, and the victory on the court all combined to create a night she would never forget.

Eventually, the celebration began to wind down, and the teams started to head their separate ways. Aubrey's family invited y/n to join them for a late dinner, an invitation she eagerly accepted. It was another step towards integrating into Aubrey's life, and she was excited about the future.

At the restaurant, the conversation flowed easily. Aubrey's parents shared stories from Aubrey's childhood, and y/n found herself laughing and feeling more at ease with each passing minute. It was clear how much they loved and supported their daughter, and it made her feel even more connected to them.

As the night drew to a close, y/n realized that she had found more than just a girlfriend in Aubrey. She had found a family that accepted and cherished her. She had faced her fears, played her heart out, and come out stronger on the other side.

When it was time to part ways, Aubrey's mother gave her another warm hug. "We're so glad to have you in our lives," she said. "You're always welcome with us."

Aubrey's father gave her a firm handshake, a gesture of respect and acceptance. "You did great tonight," he said. "Keep playing with that same heart and determination."

y/N thanked them, feeling a profound sense of gratitude. As she and Aubrey walked away, hand in hand, she felt a surge of confidence. She knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she had a strong support system in Aubrey and her family.

[leonw4nter]

The Cotton Candy Haze Mirrors The Warmth Of Your Gaze

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

Coming back home from working 4 shifts in a single day for the fifth time this week, you went home looking and feeling like a hot mess– ponytail looking like you got into a fight and lost, eyes sunken in with dark bags underneath them, and pimples breaking out in several spots in your face and back. Despite how much your body craved a deep and restful sleep, you couldn’t give yourself that because grad school, especially medical school, won’t pay its own tuition along with living expenses. Juggling 4 odd jobs, along with working overtime for the sake of getting extra pay is really taking a toll on you: you’ve been cranky lately and you haven’t found proper time to be studying for the upcoming board exams, resorting to bringing all your books and notes in your bags so you’ll have time to read in case you’re free while still at work. Hell, you haven’t even found time to take Leon on dates due to how hectic and overwhelming everything is; you’re certain that the last time you and Leon spent some quality time cuddling together was three months ago. An icky guilt seeps into your weary bones, especially since Leon’s also taking up some jobs on the side to help with your expenses and along with his police academy’s costs but he still manages to make you meals, remind you to drink water, and drive you to wherever you need to be. With a frustrated groan, you fumble through your bag to look for your keys but unfortunately you couldn’t find it and deduced it to your forgetfulness, having left it at the bowl by the door back inside.

“Fucking hell,” you bitterly hiss. You were just about to knock at a neighbor’s door for the spare key you handed them but then you suddenly remembered that you haven’t had the chance to give them an emergency spare key yet since you were procrastinating on it, much to your disadvantage now. Exasperation causes tears to flood your waterline, your vision going blurry as you reach to contact Leon to tell him that you’ve been locked out but you forgo it, thinking that he’s probably had a long day as well and that he doesn't need another thing to be bugging him. You sink down by the door, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before taking your notes out to start reviewing again since you’re free and waiting for him to come home. A few minutes pass and you hear the pad of footsteps nearing you. Swiftly, you place your notebook back in your bag and sling it over your shoulder, getting up and dusting your legs before seeing Leon’s kind smile beaming down on you like the first few rays of the sunlight on a new day.

“Hey, baby.” you softly mumble as you place a kiss on his cheek.

“Hi,” he says as he pulls you in for a quick hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Got locked out. Forgot to bring the keys. I also didn’t ask the neighbors for the keys since I didn’t give them spares yet,” you quietly admit. You look down at your feet, shame creeping in. “Leon’s had a long day and here you are, worrying him even more. Great job, Y/N. Real girlfriend of the year,” you glumly think to yourself.

“Oh– I forgot to tell you this too but I already gave the spares to the neighbors. You’ve been really busy lately so I decided to do it instead,” he says. “Sorry about that. It just slipped from my mind.”

“No. It’s fine, it really is.” you say with a tired yet genuine smile.

Leon fishes out his key from his backpack before slotting it into the keyhole and unlocking the door, opening it and letting you head in first. You slip out of your work shoes, placing your bag on the couch and collapsing right beside your things with a loud sigh.

“I’m so tired with everything,” you loudly groan as you cover your face with both hands and proceed to groan a little more. Leon walks over to the back of the couch, wrapping his arms from behind you and placing comforting kisses to your hair.

“Tell me what’s going on. I’m just going to sit here and listen,” he softly whispers as he lightly pats your shoulder.

With a deep sigh, you ramble on about everything that’s bothering you. Tears prick your eyes again and there’s more than one occasion to your voice breaking. He stays quiet, arms still wrapped around as he nods to whatever you say, occasionally pressing his lips into your head as you vent about whatever.

“I can’t afford a review center and I don’t have time to study before the board. I’m going to fail, Leon. I won’t end up somewhere,” you finish. You recline back into his touch, feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted from your shoulders. Leon unwraps his arms around you for a bit, walking over to your place on the couch before pulling you in for a more proper hug as he delicately sways you from side to side.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s fine,” he softly mumbles. “You’ve been working and studying so hard. I can see all the effort you’re putting into making sure you reach your dreams and trust me, you will pass the board. You make time to study each day and I can see that you’ve got the drive to succeed, you can do this. Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you and your capabilities, okay?”

You sniffle, hugging back and staying silent for a bit before your shaky and slightly squeaky voice speaks up, the sound slightly muffled since you buried your face into the comforting scent of your boyfriend’s sweatshirt.

“But Leon, there’s more people who're smarter than me and they’re going to pass and I’m not going to. What if I’m not enough?” you say, which causes Leon to pull away from the hug and cup your cheeks in between his big and calloused hands.

“You’re going to pass. You’re smart, you’re my smart girl. There’s no way you’re not going to pass, okay? You will be a licensed nurse and you will reach your dreams. You’re more than enough for this and for me. Don’t let anyone and anything tell you that you’re not enough because you are. More than you’ll ever know.” He finishes with a small kiss to the tip of your nose before moving to your lips. Your own hand climbs up to lightly wrap around his wrists, maintaining comfortable eye contact.

“I’m sorry,” you softly tell him, your words coming out like a whisper.

“For what?” Leon says with a surprised smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”

“Yes I did, Leon.” you bashfully respond. “I haven’t been giving you much attention lately. You also do many things for me like driving me to school and doing my laundry but I don’t find the time to repay you. Just earlier, I got you worried because I was sitting just right outside the door when you already have a lot on your own plate. I’m just adding to that list of things that keeps you up at night and–”

Leon cuts you off by placing his index finger against your lips to shush you before gently moving you to be laying on his lap as he plays with your hair and scratches your scalp in the way he knows you love.

“Nope. I understand that you’ve gotta give a hundred percent of your attention to your studies, especially that your future job concerns human lives. I’m just doing my job by being here for you as your number one fan and making sure you still take care of yourself. I’m busy too but you’re not bothering me or causing me more stress, just the opposite actually. Now just lay on my lap and let me make you feel a lot better, yeah?” he softly says as he continues massaging your head, prompting your eyelids to drape over your eyes as you sigh in satisfaction.

“Unless you wanna have dinner first–”

“No. Let’s just stay like this for a bit.”

He continues to rake his fingers through strands of your hair, his fingers gently scratching your scalp and applying a good amount of pressure to your temples in order to effectively massage them. Most of the time, it’s you who’s giving Leon scratches and massages but it feels great to be at the receiving end of some pampering and loving from your boyfriend. He stops for a little bit, your eyes flying open to see Leon reach over to get a blanket to wrap you in it. Snuggling into the blanket, he continues his soothing ministrations to your head. You swear that if you were a cat and Leon was petting you in this way, you would purr so loud.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You finally finished taking your board exams about a month ago and ever since then, you would eagerly open up your laptop or phone just to look at whether or not you passed. Each time, your fingers would wobble and your palms would sweat to the point you frequently wipe them on your pants so your phone wouldn’t slip out of your grip. Your thoughts would shift between the confidence that you passed since you reviewed and studied and practiced so much and the fear of failure, the icky feeling of being a failure with no direction in life eroding at the happiness you built for yourself but luckily Leon was always there to keep those crusty, self-deprecating tendencies at bay.

“You passed!” Leon practically screeches. With quivering hands he shoves his phone back into his pocket and lunges at you, almost toppling over the tables as he wraps you around in one of the best hugs he’s ever given you.

“Huh? What?” is all you could muster in this state of shock and surprise.

He pulls away and opens up your laptop, going straight to your email and the school portal where they released the list of passers. Sure enough, your last name is listed.

“My girl is going to become a licensed nurse!” he shouts with the proudest, most vibrant smile you’ve ever seen him smile. 

Tears of pure, unadulterated joy spilled from your waterline and flowed down your cheeks, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins whilst also feeling relief at the fact that you passed. Now it’s your turn to lunge at Leon, springing at him and tackling him with your arms tightly enveloped on his larger frame as you jump up and down, toppling over into the couch and hugging him even tighter due to the renewed sizzle of joy running through your person. After a few moments of laying on top of each other and smiling and pressing kisses into each other’s face, you get up and phone friends and family to tell them that you managed to pass the boards. Leon called up his own friends Ethan and Chris to tell them of your results, sending pictures. You hear Leon and his friends giggling on the other side of the room, squealing and giggling like school girls. His face, the tips of his ears, and neck are flushed a vibrant pink the more he talks about how proud he is of his girl. Many times he showed the email and your name on the passers list to his friends, cheers and congratulations being the reception whenever he did, much to his massive delight. Finally, you finish up phoning friends and family and go to Leon, pressing a passionate kiss to his soft baby lips upon his soft baby face. He could feel you grinning against him with each gentle smack; Leon quite never figured out if the beauty of your lips was more of their softness or their association with whatever words you spoke, which always pulled him under a spell he didn’t wish to surface from. You pull away, gazing deeply into eyes painted a soothing blue watercolor hue and not wanting to break this moment of peace, the sensations feeling intimate in a way more than the physical contact of bodies.

“I’m so proud of my girl. My smart, amazing, lovely, sweet girl who will be a nurse soon,” he softly whispers.

“I’m proud of myself too, Leon. Thank you for supporting me, helping me out, and being there for me when I needed you most. I couldn’t have done this without you,” you sincerely thank him.

“You’re a strong independent woman, Y/N. You don’t need anyone to get you somewhere because you carry yourself with an air of confidence and independence but I’m very thankful and lucky you let me in your life.”

“Gosh, Leon. You’re going to make me cry but thank you. I mean it so much. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So… should we eat out? I’ve got some change to spare.”

“It’s on me. I’ve been saving up, I have a surprise for you but it won’t hurt to celebrate my Y/N’s passing.”

You smack his chest playfully, the blond laughing at his little joke.

“You made it sound like I died!”

“Oops. Looks like it might result in a grave misunderstanding.”

“God, let’s just get ready for dinner.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon's POV

I took her out to dinner that night, picking out a nice Korean grill for us to dine in since she enjoys Korean grills so much. Nothing felt more satisfying than seeing all her efforts pay off; all those readings and memorizations giving her the success she rightfully deserves. Right now, I’m seeing her devour her entire plate and in the blink of an eye she’ll get up to get seconds but I don’t mind; seeing her eat good food and indulge makes me feel happy. I feel satisfied, as if I don’t need to eat because her happiness is enough to keep me going for days on end. We’ve both decided to keep working some more jobs to be able to have more savings to add in our accounts so we could afford to move into a better place, probably nearer to Raccoon City since I’m going to be stationed there by next month. She doesn’t know this but I managed to prepare a little surprise for her, which is a 2 day camping get-away; deep in the forest, surrounded by trees, the stars shining above us, and the cold weather. She deserves a little break, we both do, so I planned this. I’m free for the next few days too so this is going to be perfect, I’m grinning just at the thought of it.

“What’re you smiling about?” she asks, but it comes out sounding a little difference since she’s got some food in her mouth.

“Nothing. You look beautiful tonight,” I respond, which isn’t exactly a lie. The buzz of glee just gives her this glow that makes me want to get on my knees and worship her like the goddess she is.

She gets back to eating, doing a little happy dance every now and then. She’s also insisted on feeding me, making sure I finish at least 3 plates because “one can never be too full”, which I appreciate since she just wants me to eat well and I want to have the energy to walk her around town tonight.

After dinner, we took a walk around town. I stopped by at a flower shop, getting her flowers as one of my many little gifts. It feels tempting to tell her about our little camping getaway coming up in a few hours but I want to build up an element of surprise and blissfully catch her off guard. The evening gets cold and a little quiet so I shrug off my jacket, draping it over her shoulders and making sure she’s all warm and toasty.

“You good?” I ask her.

“Yeah. Thanks,” she shyly says as she huddles into my jacket even more. I advised her to bring along a coat since the night could get a little chilly but she refused. As long as the cold won’t bother her and make her feel ill, I don’t really mind because I like seeing her in my clothes and having the smell of her perfume on my things. We take a few more strides, a comfortable settling between us as we walk hand in hand and go wherever our hearts desire. I turn my head and steal a lengthy glance from her; the delicate breeze sends her hair flowing smoothly like a poet’s ink and quill, the fine strands woven from spacetime and starlight as the streetlight’s luminescence bounces off; her body is absolutely perfect, worthy of all praises and respectful admiration with curves that mold in my hands just right but her genuine beauty is from within her heart; God, she’s captivating. She looks at me and I promptly look away, keeping my gaze trained on something else as heat is concentrated on the apples of my cheeks. I can hear a twinkling giggle from her, followed by her fingers pinching a cheek as she giggles even louder.

“You’re too cute, Leon. Gosh, you’re so adorable! You’re like– the most puppy-looking person I’ve ever met and I love that!” she squeals.

“Baby, my cheeks are hurting.” I say in a small voice.

She pulls her fingers away, gently running a hand over where she pinched and gave the spot a peck.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I know you can’t get enough of me.” I quip, followed by a wink.

“You’re not wrong but you’re one cocky person,” she says but a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“I’m your cocky person.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

A day later.

Hours ago, I woke her up at 4:45 AM so we could get ready. Of course, she was a bit disoriented because I didn’t say anything to her but after I told her about my little surprise, she practically launched from the bed and got ready immediately. She slept early last night– slept very soundly too, not a single noise rousing her from sleep. While she slept, I carefully slipped out of bed and packed everything we needed, her things included. It was kind of difficult, having to pack things quietly and move them to the car without causing much thudding but I managed to get it done in 3 hours. After several rounds of double checking everything and making sure there was nothing I left out, I finally made my way back up to our apartment and locked the doors to retire for the night. I could barely sleep due to the rush of giddiness coursing through my person but I forced myself to; after all, I’ll be the driver and it’s going to be irresponsible if I don’t.

Now, she’s sitting in the passenger seat with a blanket draped over her lap as she quietly drinks in the view that speeds right past the window. Everytime I see her and she innocently looks right at me, I feel a little antsy and nervous, having to feel around in my pockets and try to calm myself down. In an hour or two, we’ll get to the spot and then finally set our camp up before we start preparing the ingredients we’ll be using for cooking. The campsite we chose is a little more secluded, right by a lake that’s unfortunately too cold to safely swim in but that doesn’t take away the charm of the entire spot. The release of the board passers coincidentally going before the day of the trip I planned is a perfect coincidence, making this whole thing a celebratory trip for her but I want to add another thing to celebrate later so for now, it’ll stay as another secret.

Finally, I pull up at our spot and park the car. We carry our supplies and set up grills, our tents, and a spot to keep all of our food and drinks and utensils. We finish early so we set up the inside of our tent, placing a comfortable blanket on the floor so the bumpy and rigid ground doesn’t cause any of us back pains the following morning. All afternoon speeds past us as we spend the hours cuddling, Y/N saying something like how the weather is “perfect cuddle weather”. Soon, it’s nighttime and we finish up with everything: dinner, a quick towel bath (since the showering in this weather would get us both sick), so now we’re just sitting by the bonfire and huddling close.

“Thanks, Leon. Thank you for all this. A celebratory dinner was enough but I guess you decided to outdo yourself,” she says as she leans her head on my shoulder.

“This is nothing. Besides, you deserve this,” I say.

We sit in silence for a little bit before she speaks up again.

“We should celebrate some more wins in life, y’know. Even the little things, we should celebrate it one way or another. It doesn’t have to be this grand,” she tells me.

“Yeah. You’re right, we should celebrate wins in life,” I agree. This is it. “You’re a big win in my life, Y/N, and I want to celebrate you everyday.”

My hand slips into my pocket, my fingers feeling the velvet of a tiny box holding my promise of the world and forever to Y/N.

I can’t imagine ever growing old without you, nor do I desire to.

If all goes well, we’ve just given ourselves another reason to be celebrating.

NOTE - Woke up today to see that in a month, I've managed to hit a hundred followers!!!!!!! LET'S GOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Srsly so thankful for everyone who decided to follow me and read my fics, I love you and wish you well. I didn't expect to reach a hundred this early into my writing journey so this is so cool. I also told my mom that I write now and she seems supportive so I'm really happy with that. I guess this fic functions as a hundred-followers-special now :)) That's it and I hope you really enjoyed this fic. Again, thank you for the hundred followers!!!!! I couldn't have done it without you <3!!!

The chain dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[scientia-rex]

Hallo!! I really appreciate your blog and how open and invested you are in wellbeing outside of medical fatphobia and other ways medicine as an institution can suck. It's also great to see a humanized side of working in medicine, so thank you for your openness :) You mentioned recently not prescribing bariatric surgery to patients except in rare, specific cases. If you have time and energy, would you be able to share a little more about what you think about bariatric surgery when those particular conditions aren't present? Also please feel free to ignore this ask if you're not up for it. Hope you have a great day! 🌸🌼🌺

When someone is fat to the point where they can't do daily activities of living like dressing themselves, walking, etc., then bariatric surgery probably has a place.

However, bariatric surgery has risks. Lots of them. To start with, there's the on-the-table risks. These are a lot lower than they used to be--anesthesia in this day and age is incredibly safe. Getting to bariatric surgery is challenging for most patients, as insurance in the US will typically only work with a few centers that have wrap-around teams including the surgeons but also other specialists, especially nutritionists. So lots of patients go to Mexico. I haven't had a single one of my own patients, since I started having my own patients four years ago, get from the phase of thinking about bariatic surgery to actually having it done in the US. I've had three patients go to Mexico and have it done. I will withhold judgment, because I haven't been to those centers, I don't know what those doctors and teams are like, but I do know the overall out of pocket cost for patients is about 5 grand, which is so much cheaper than it is in the US that it doesn't bear comparison.

Just-after-surgery risks include blood clots that can go to the lungs or the heart. There is always a risk of wound infection, which can be devastating. If a prolonged hospital stay is required, pneumonia is a significant risk.

Any time you have intra-abdominal surgery, your body develops scar tissue. Places where scar tissue fuses different structures together are called adhesions. Having a re-operation after that is more risky because of those adhesions. You are also at higher risk for intestinal obstruction, because your intestines can hang up on adhesion and twist so that they cut off their own blood supply. This is a surgical emergency. When bowel dies, it becomes leaky and lets dangerous intestinal bacteria into the otherwise sterile environment of the abdomen. That higher risk of intestinal obstruction never goes away.

People who have had bariatric surgery are also at risk for dumping syndrome. This is a condition where the small intestine becomes overly stimulated immediately after a meal, because the food is not moving smoothly through the stomach into the small intestine on the natural time scale. That stimulation leads to excessive insulin release in comparison to the amount of glucose absorbed, which can means hypoglycemia, which is life-threatening.

Rapid fat loss leads to significant amounts of excess skin. Many people who've had bariatric surgery go on to have skin removal surgery. This is actually a riskier surgery than the bariatric surgery itself, because you are tampering with the barrier between the inside of your body and the world outside it. And if it's done too early, you can end up needing your skin to stretch again, and having stretch marks in addition to the scars.

After bariatric surgery, you are also worse at absorbing good nutrients. You need lifetime monitoring for vitamin levels, including vitamin B12. If you don't have enough vitamin B12, your nerves start to die. This results in pain that starts in the feet, since the neurons running from the spinal cord to the big toes are the longest and therefore most susceptible in the body.

But perhaps the most upsetting aspect of bariatic surgery to me is that it is presented as a definitive solution.

Is it?

Not for 20-25% of people who have bariatic surgery, who struggle with significant weight regain.

So if the most extreme intervention we have--literally surgically altering your gut--isn't enough to make weight loss permanent, how is anything else going to do it?

You can be skinny. For a little while. But attempts to lose large amounts of weight, including surgically, have high failure rates. The 75% success rate for bariatic surgery is significantly higher than for any other method currently widely available, but the risks are also significantly higher. I don't think it's worthwhile for most patients, especially given how many patients are lied to by their doctors about how much their weight is likely contributing to their health problems. Most of my patients focus on their weight rather than activity levels, they beat themselves up about how they're not doing intense enough exercise but don't incorporate lower-impact exercises like swimming or walking, they try to eat less rather than eating a diet more rich in vegetables and fruits and lower in highly processed foods. You can do so much for yourself without ever framing it as being about weight.

And if you've done that--if you're struggling with being so fat that you can't live your life--then sure. Talk to your doctor about a referral for bariatric surgery. But don't be shocked if the results are not what you were told to expect. Don't be surprised when you find that you actively resent the people who suddenly find you tolerable, even desirable, now that you're not so fat. Don't let them sell you bariatic surgery as a no-downside cure-all, because it most emphatically is not.

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P8

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

Everyone was panicking. Alex was out of his car pacing back and forth in the Audi garage as Lily tried to calm him down. They refused to show the reply or any current footage of what was going on. But Lily had seen it live and even she was struggling to not cry herself.

Lando was sat with his head in his hands, crying over the reason for such a bad crash. He wouldn't forgive himself, no matter how bad the crash had been, even if you just came out with a small scrape. You were on track to winning the race as well. Not that that really mattered as your unconscious self was being hauled out of the burning car that had started to catch alight when the fuel tank burst and leaked.

One courageous marshal managed to pull you out, as they were pulling you out they weren't thinking about any broken bones they just wanted to get you out the car.

They laid you down on the floor, not taking your helmet of but flipping the visor up to see if you were awake, which of course you weren't.

They held your wrist looking for a heartbeat screaming for a medic to come over and help you. In record speed time, emergency services had managed to get a helicopter to airlift you to the best hospital in Belgium.

When the drivers saw the helicopter fly off, they could tell it was a bad crash, not that they couldn't tell before but the fact you needed to be airlifted had them worrying.

Lando was near close to being sick, Oscar at his side rubbing his back as he dry-heaved into a bin.

"Oh my god, I've killed my best friend" he cried and Oscar right now had no idea what to actually say to him.

"No you haven't, she's going to be okay!" Oscar says rubbing his crying friends back.

Charles was num, he didn't know what to think and he actually couldn't talk to Carlos. Was this his fault... no it was the rain, and your team, and your radio, and your car, and Lando's fault and he was so terribly angry when he thought about it fully.

Joris had talked him out of the abyss that was Charles mind and the whirlpool of thoughts he was flowing down. He told him off when Charles started to angrily play the blame game, explaining it wasnt anyone's fault and that you knew the risks of racing.

The race wasn't continued, with only two laps to go. Lando won, Lewis in P2 and Charles in P3, that should have been your first race win and it was a dull celebration hearing your shared national anthem with Lando when it was supposed to be you up there.

He didn't do his usual champagne pop, none of them actually even popped the champagne just handing it off to their teams to enjoy who just passed it back as no one was really in the mood to drink.

Interviews were even more dull.

"Hello Charles, pleasure to have you here!" the interviewer smiles, trying their best to lighten the mood but you'd become such a presence around the paddock over the last few races that it was strange not having you around.

Charles just nods and she awkwardly looks down at her note pad.

"So obviously not a great race with the end there, but you had a spectacular race despite the rain and that long pitstop. Can you comment more on that?"

"Yeah, I think not only the drivers find working in those conditions tense and they want then best for you. Obviously the long pitstop had me loosing a few positions but like normal you just push harder and gain those places back, P3 was better than we hoped for and I shouldn't have been up on that podium today" he nods and his interview is wrapped up insanely quickly.

"Any last comments on Y/N, any insight on her condition and how she's doing?" she asks tentatively.

"No, sorry I don't!" he says with a grit in his teeth before his PR manager takes his arm and guides him away with a final nod to the interviewer saying this was over.

Lando and Alex couldn't even do any of their media duties, too upset by what happen to you that they went straight back to the hotel. Alex and Lily actually travelled to the hospital where you were at now with your family and personal trainer to see if they could find anything more out.

They arrived at the hospital in record time considering the one and a half hour drive it took to get from the race track to Brussels where you were being treated.

"Hi, we're looking for Y/N Y/L/N?" Lily asks knowing Alex had been a little choked up the whole time and could barley get his words out.

"Ah, yes are you immediate family?" she asks looking over the two of the with an eyebrow raised.

"No, but I'm her team-mate she's a race car driver and she" Alex blurts out only for the woman to interrupt him.

"Got into an accident at the race, I'm aware. Her family are on the 2nd floor outside a private suite near the trauma unit. You can go talk to them but there's no visitors in her room right now!" she exclaims and they both nod, running towards the lift to make their way up.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Alex choked out looking to Lily. He didn't know what to do if they came up and she wasn't okay.

"She's a strong girl, the halo did an amazing job protecting her. She'll be okay, I'm sure of it!" Lily say pulling her boyfriend in for a cuddle which he accepted nuzzling into her comforting smell.

The lift dinged and they stepped out, immediately stepped out seeing various doctors and nurses rushing around, even though it seemed like calm and organized rush.

They spot a group of people and your personal trainer, which Alex deducts easily that its your family. Both him and Lily tentatively walk over seeing your mother crying her eyes out into your father and your whole family looked the farthest thing from okay.

"Erm, hey" Alex smiles towards your personal trainer who also looks worried rubbing the back of his neck. Both your parents snap their head towards Alex, your mother immediately sobbing harder pulling him into a kind and gentle hug.

"Oh she loved driving with you so much, Alex right? She talked about you and how welcomed you made her feel!" she cries and Alex feels sickness building in his stomach and throat.

Your mother was using the past tense as if you were already dead and he didn't dare ask the question. He just continued holding your mum as she continued to cry.

Your father, who was trying hard to hold back his tears but ultimately was failing gave Alex a kind smile before reaching for his wife to pull her back.

"H-how is she?" Lily gulps, knowing Alex didn't have it in him to ask.

"Sh-she died on the way here apparently and she'd flatlined again once she was here. But she's in emergency surgery and their doing everything for her" her dad says and sighs not really knowing what else to do.

They all sit and wait, waiting for any news on your condition.

It felt like hours before a nurse and doctor cam trotting over to all of them.

"Family of Y/N Y/L/N?" she asks and looks around at each of them and your mum stands up grabbing your dads hand.

"Yes that's us, we are her parents" she says pointing between the two of them.

"Can we talk to you privately please?" she asks noticing the big group that included children.

"Alex, darling you should come with us so you can update her friends" your mum reaches out for him and he nods following the doctor into a private consultation room.

"So, is my daughter going to be okay?" your mum asks the pending question.

"We did everything we could, and she's a very strong girl considering her injuries. She'll be okay but she wont be racing for at least 3 months, might be the whole season depending on how much she pushes herself in physio therapy when she's up and moving" he smiles and your dad starts to fully sob hearing his little girl was going to be okay.

"What happened to her. Why did she flat line?" your mother asks.

"Her injuries were extensive. She fractured her spine, broke 3 ribs which caused her left lung collapsed which deprived her of oxygen. Which didn't help the minor head and neck injuries she suffered, and of course the fuel leak caused burns on her arms and legs" he listed of her extensive injuries that seemed to be non-stop.

"Holy shit" Alex admitted and took a seat.

"You can see her now, she's still under anesthetic and it wont ware off for a few hours but you can see her" he smiles and lets your family all hug before running out to the rest to tell them you were in fact okay.

Alex explained to Lily everything that happened and she also felt relieved. He asked if she was able to send a message to the Whatsapp chat while he got a drink of water to try and calm his heart rate down.

He ended up talking them through your condition and the fact that only your immediate family were allowed in right now but he and Lily could go in after and that your parents had expressed that they were all more than welcome to come see you.

All of them agreed that they would of course come and see you tomorrow. Your family and Alex all tweeted about how you were doing and that they would ask you to make a video or statement when you were awake and with the world.

Everyone was just glad that you were alive... and were starting to plan their trip to come see you.

A/N: Y/N going to be out of racing until after the summer break? Oh no! ... what will she do!

Also my google search history is wild after this chapter where i had to look up the healing time for all her injuries....

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[maritotoy]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How long has it been since then?"

"Four hours, maybe five."

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

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

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

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

You knew Mauga.

And with such.

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

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

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

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

Because that's your job as a medic.

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

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

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

Did I mention he has two hearts?

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

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

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

He definitely is careless, isn't he?

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

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

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

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

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

Before you knew it, you fell asleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's not really a surprise to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright," Baptiste said, sounding annoyed.

--------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your gaze flicks briefly to his. "Hm."

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," he replies smugly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yet..."

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

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

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

"How? Are you not afraid of dying?"

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

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

"Sometimes." His grin returned to his features.

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

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

You blinked at him.

He blinked back.

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

A small smirk forms on his lips.

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

This feeling...

It's definitely not normal.

End of part 1

Part 2- ???

[squadmuse]

ONE DAY IN OCTOBER - Part I

A MATT CASEY X HALSTEAD!OFC FIC (Charlotte Halstead Casey)

A/N: so this has been an idea that I’ve been slowly working and developing for about a month now and @deanstead has been such a great & lovely helpful mutual through it… hope everyone enjoys this, as I am so excited about it!!

A cool October sun was high in the sky above the bustling city of Chicago that morning, and luckily Dr. Charlotte Halstead Casey found herself alone on the rooftop of the city’s Gaffney Chicago Medical Center to enjoy it.

A lifelong Chicago resident, her green eyes watched from high above as if she were a mere bird, looking down as cars rolled down the roads and people walked up along the sidewalks. Rush hour had been over for a few hours now, so it wasn’t as busy as it would’ve been as people hurried even more to reach work or school. When Charlotte had arrived for work the night before, the noisy city had been cloaked in a dark twilight with little to nobody wandering around.

Glancing down at her hand that was encircled around a travel mug filled with warm decaffeinated coffee, Charlotte grinned as the sunlight hit her diamond engagement ring and matching wedding band. It had been nearly six months since she had married the love of her life, Matthew Casey. He had dropped her off at the hospital last night with a kiss goodbye and a warm hug too. Matt was very much everything she had ever dreamed about.

It wasn’t often that Charlotte found herself working the night shift in the emergency department, but it had been a case of seniority needed and a call from Goodwin herself. Luckily, she hadn’t been working the day before and had been relaxing at home while Matt worked on one of his construction jobs in Wicker Park.

Looking back out at the metropolis that she called home, she sighed. It looked like it was going to be a slow day in Chicago, and luckily a quiet night too, as Goodwin had signed her up for night shifts for now on. Taking a gulp of her drink, Charlotte let herself be lost in the tranquil atmosphere around her on the roof, waiting for the moments to fly by and for caffeinated coffee once again.

Charlotte had been so lost in her daydreaming mind and her imagination running wild like a hummingbird would, that she did not see the figure that had appeared on the rooftop paradise that she had claimed for herself that mid-morning. Her green eyes were fluttering shut and there was a soft smile dancing on her soft lips which made her look as serene as the view that surrounded her.

With soft steps that were not unlike his soft wavy hair, did the lone figure make his way to where Charlotte stood alone. There too was a soft smile painted upon his face, like there was upon her own, and as he found his way to be at her side high above Chicago, the man placed a lean arm around her shoulders as if he had done it many times before.

Charlotte’s eyes shot open as if they were bullets firing from a pistol at the sudden touch and her wide eyes pivoted just as fast to face the figure beside her and a chuckle slipped from both their lips as she punched him jokingly on the chest. Her older brother Will Halstead grinned as she did so.

“Even after all these years, you still react to the slightest touch, Tater,” he chuckled, ruffling her dark hair, not unlike all those years ago.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at his comment and his childhood nickname for her, which seemed to be sticking around even as they were adults. Trust Will and Jay, her other older brother, to find out her name was also the name of a potato species when they were kids. She was grateful they at least didn’t call her Tater Tot.

“Well you still happen to have the coldest hands in Chicago, so we’re even Billy,” she grinned back as she used her own childhood nickname for her eldest brother in return. A louder laugh than before erupted from her lips as Will grimaced.

“You know you’re the only one I’ll ever let call me that?” said Will as he leaned on the railing beside his sister. His brown eyes followed the sights below like Charlotte had done before. “Jay is the same, only you get to call him Jayjay.”

A broad smile appeared on Charlotte’s face at his comment. Smugly, she nudged Will in his side. “That’s because I’m your baby sister,” she said mirthfully. It was true, ever since she had been born all those years ago in 1988, Charlotte had been the apple of her brothers’ eyes and spoiled rotten by two Halsteads. “Y'know, Pops is the same.”

Will nodded as he glanced at her. “That’s because you’re his little girl,” replied Will with a soft smile. “Pops didn’t expect to have a little girl, even Mom thought she would have another boy.”

Charlotte giggled as she shook her head. Thank god her parents had not had another boy, the old house back in Canaryville probably wouldn’t have survived that. “Remember the time when I refused to do the tap class Mom signed me up for and how I wanted to go to the ice hockey club with you and Jay?” said Charlotte quietly as she reminisced.

“How could I not?” chortled Will, his soft auburn curls jiggling with the movement of his head. “Mom was stunned, wondered where her little girly girl had gone!”

Sighing, Charlotte remembered that too. Theresa Halstead had been aghast about her only daughter wanting to act like her older brothers and not do all the girly things she was finally getting to do now she had a daughter. “I think I got pulled from the peewee team after Jay punched Eddie Lynch after he made me fall and break my arm,” said Charlotte, thinking about that moment with her brother.

“Yeah you did, I think Pops had a bust-up with Coach Murphy over all of that,” added Will as he turned to lean his back against the railing and so did Charlotte before taking another sip of her coffee. “I think that was when Jay switched to soccer, and you got into gymnastics?”

Charlotte nodded. She had got into gymnastics after that fiasco, at least it was all girls in her club in Bridgeport. “Yeah it was, Mom didn’t want me roughhousing with the hockey boys like I would with you and Jay at home,” she chuckled. It was true, and she still did have a tough side to her, having grown up a Halstead in Canaryville. “You just kept to your baseball, which Pops loved.”

“South Side pride, it’s in our blood little sis,” laughed Will as he threw his head back looking up at the fall sun. “I think it was Pop’s proudest moment when I won the high school baseball award.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the statement, which was the understatement of the century. Patrick Halstead was probably the biggest baseball fan in Canaryville and had been absolutely ecstatic about the prize at the De La Salle Institute, to the amusement of Will, Jay, Charlotte and their mother. Usually, Pat Halstead was a man of few words and even less emotion.

For a while the two siblings stood in silence, and the only sound was that of the lively city many floors below.

It was nice like that, just the two of them on a quiet day in October.

After minutes of watching the city and clouds go by, Will quickly grasped his sister’s travel mug and took a sip from it before spitting it back out.

“Serves you right,” giggled Charlotte as she took back the mug from Will, who was glaring at her with lighthearted disgust.

Will nodded, rolling his eyes in playful annoyance. “I see you’re still on the decaf?”

“Yup, you know I’m off it.”

Again, Will nodded his head in agreement as he knew that. “I know, I just hoped you had hot cocoa or something? Something that is actually nice!”

“Hey, decaf coffee is actually nice!” retorted Charlotte as she playfully shoved her brother to the side, making him stumble slightly. It wasn’t a lie, she had been surprised to find herself enjoying it.

Will shook his head and stood upright. “If you say so, Tater,” he replied before turning to face Charlotte with a more serious expression upon his face and his deep brown eyes fixated on her as he was reading her innermost thoughts. “How was your shift?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Charlotte sighed in response to her brother. “Just the usual stuff, I was only called in because Ethan is sick, and you worked the day shift.”

“Yeah Maggie had said about that when I arrived earlier,” said Will with a sigh, himself as he reached out to rub Charlotte’s shoulder affectionately. “I hope you still took it easy though.”

Charlotte took a large gulp from her mug before smiling at her brother. Even now, after all these years, Will was still the ever protective brother he had always been in her life. “I can still do my job, I’m not incapacitated.”

“Oh I know you’re not, and you’re a more than capable attending, but you’re carrying my unborn niece or nephew, so I’m not just big brother Will, but Uncle Will too, gotta keep two eyes out for you now,” he stated, gesturing at the round bump that was protruding underneath her ED scrubs.

It seemed Baby Casey was already under the watchful gaze of their Uncle Will, not just their mommy and daddy.

After a while longer up on the rooftop together, Charlotte found herself traveling down in the elevator with Will at her side. The two of them were not short on conversation topics as they traveled down the hospital building floor by floor.

“—I can’t believe he actually said that to you!” exclaimed Will angrily as the elevator stopped on the cardiothoracic floor. “You’re Noah’s superior.”

Charlotte shook her head, as neither could she when it happened. “He completely ignored my instructions and advice,” she stated wearily, remembering the interaction between herself and Noah Sexton, who was a resident in the department. “I think Connor is going to talk to Goodwin about it, he had to take the poor guy up to surgery to repair the mess.”

“Good, I’ll make sure to talk to him later about it,” scowled Will as the elevator started to move again. “You don’t need idiotic residents, especially now.”

Charlotte sighed in agreement. She didn’t need the added pressure and stress of someone like Noah Sexton working under her. With her pregnancy, it had been paramount to her and Matt that she stay as relaxed as possible, even in a stressful job (although he also had a stressful job too). Their baby would always come first. “Just don’t make a big deal out of it, Will. I’m off for maternity leave in December and then off for a few months. Maybe when I come back he’ll be off to some other hospital!”

“Fingers crossed, but I’ll say something to April,” stated Will, as he glanced at his sister worriedly. He knew their nurse friend would happily pull up her younger brother about his behavior and actions last night.

“Is she working today?” asked Charlotte as she felt the elevator move without stopping. It seemed not very many people were using the lift this morning.

Will nodded. “Maggie said so,” he replied as they finally reached the first floor and were met with the emergency department before them as the doors opened up. “So what are you going to be up to today?”

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders as the two doctors walked across the room. Much like she had thought before, it seemed like it was going to be a quiet day in Chicago. “Probably just napping and organizing baby things, Matt is on shift today,” she told her brother.

Will hummed as he held open the glass door to the doctors’ lounge for his sister to walk through before him.

“Maybe you could go visit Pop?”

[storm-angel989]

Can I request Valentino x wife!reader where they take their 2 months old daughter to get vaccinated and Val just can’t stand to see his little princessa cry after receiving a vaccine shot

Oh my god this is the SOFTEST Valentino thing ever. I love it! Enjoy!

Valentino watched as his wife lifted the baby from the bassinet. Typically he would be right by her side, assisting wherever needed. But for the moment, he held back, baby carrier in hand as he watched his reader, his wife, snuggle the baby to her chest. It didn’t matter that neither of them had slept a full night in two months, or that they only showered that morning by the grace of Vox’s canceled meeting. He wouldn’t trade the sight of her holding their daughter for the world. 

He set the carrier down and stepped forward. He carefully took the baby from her, leaning over and placing her into the protective seat with careful hands. The infant blinked up at him with the same blue eyes as his wife and cooed. 

“That’s right niñita, Daddy’s here,” he said softly as he lifted the entire carrier up. “We’re taking a trip downstairs, okay bebita?” He lifted up the entire carrier, leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek as they stepped into the elevator. 

Doctors appointments for any other infant in the world would involve a trip in the car, a potential rescheduling of naptime, and ensuring everything the child could possibly need when leaving their home was carefully packed in case of emergency. But for Valentino’s daughter, the trip simply involved a baby carrier, a diaper bag, short elevator ride and perhaps most importantly, her father ensuring his studio was absolutely empty. 

Admittedly, never did he think he would be using the high tech nurses office he installed in the studio for anything more than medical fetish pornography, or the occasional employee with sex toy induced emergency, let alone his daughter's eight week old check up. But the convenience of having a pediatrician work around their schedule, and having access to everything in house couldn’t be ignored. And for Valentino, clearing the studio was less of a feat than taking a trip outside of the V tower. 

As soon as the elevator door opened, they stepped out and carried the infant down the hallway and into the office. Upon arrival, his wife immediately began the discussion with the doctor. He left her to it as he lifted the baby from the carrier and held her to him. 

“Are we in a new place, muñeca? What do you see?” He asked as he gently cradled her so that she could see the entire room. “I see two blue chairs,  and one green table, and a silver container full of white cotton balls and…”

“Val? Bring her back over, doc is ready,” his wife interrupted his conversation with their daughter. 

Begrudgingly, Valentino walked back to where they stood and handed the baby over to the doctor. He watched her carefully as the doctor weighed her, listened to her insides, and examined her thoroughly to be sure she was okay. As soon as she was finished, Valentino picked his baby girl back up and held her back to his chest protectively. 

“Everything looks great,” the doctor said cheerfully. “She’s due for her two month vaccinations- three shots and then I’ll see you again in a month.” 

Valentino gritted his teeth. “Shots?”

Reader nudged him, “Val, we talked about this.” 

As someone who had given and received more needles than most, Valentino knew first hand the pain they caused. And that was the last thing he ever wanted his sweetheart to experience. 

“Are they really necessary?” He asked uneasily. “She’ll cry and…”

“And you can pick her up and cuddle her until she settles and then we’ll go home,” his wife interrupted calmly. “You and I both did the research. We talked to how many doctors? We both decided this was the best course of action for her.” 

Hesitantly, Valentino handed her back over to the doctor. As soon as she left the warmth of his arms, her cries began. His wife tucked her arm into his and laid her head on his shoulder. Valentino laid a comforting arm on his wife and grimaced at the sound of her cries. 

Valentino knew it was the best choice for her.

Valentino knew the shots would protect her in ways he couldn’t.

Valentino knew that they had done everything possible to make sure this was the best decision for their daughter.

But the facts didn’t make his heart hurt for her any less. Nor did it make the innate instinct to take his child and get her as far away from the source of the pain any less powerful. As soon as the last bandaid was put on, he swept his daughter up in his arms and gently rocked her. His wife turned to the doctor to review the follow up procedures as he comforted the screaming child. 

“Shush, Princessa. Daddy is here. It’s okay. I know it hurts,” he muttered. “I’m sorry little one, I promise it was for your own safety. I know, I’m sorry it hurt.”

“She’s probably hungry too, Val,” Reader said softly as he tried desperately to soothe his daughter. “Let’s pop over into your office and I’ll nurse her before we go back upstairs.” 

He looked at the clock. She had a point, it was almost her lunch time. Or was it snack time? It didn’t really matter either way- she ate almost every two hours. He passed his daughter back to his wife and picked up the empty baby carrier, along with the diaper back. Together they left the nurses office, and made their way back towards the elevator. He let them into his work office and reader took her usual place on the couch as Valentino locked the door. 

He sat next to his wife as she nursed their daughter. He put his arm around her and gave reader a soft kiss on the top of her head. There was something primal, something pure and so incredibly beautiful about seeing his wife feed his daughter. Bottle or breast didn’t matter to him- it was the early mornings, late nights and sheer dedication to this tiny little baby. No matter how exhausted she was, she always put their child first. Something Valentino recognized and did everything in his power to only take care of their baby, but to encourage his wife to take care of herself. 

“Here, I’ll burp her,” Valentino said when she was finished. 

Reader handed her over to him and he held her upright against him. He pulled the cloth out of the diaper back and draped it over his shoulder before he positioned her so her head rested against the cloth. Carefully, he stood up as he patted her back. He walked around the room as he thumped her back firmly.  

“You’re pretty good at this you know,” Reader’s voice came from behind him. He felt her lift the dry corner of the cloth and out of the corner of his eye, saw her wipe the little girl’s mouth. “Spit up should bother you more than it does.”

“Babies are pretty much just more delicate versions of inebriated adults,” he replied as she took the infant from him. With his now free hand, he lifted the diaper bag up and slung it over his shoulder. “They eat, they sleep, they cry, they throw up, and then they sleep again. It’s basically the same thing.”

Reader laughed as she settled the baby back into the carrier. “You have a point. What do you say we get this little one down for a nap and then…” she paused and let out a grin. “Have some alone time?”

Valentino pushed open the door, “only if by alone time you mean sleep.”

She laughed and walked across the dark studio to the elevator. “Of course that’s what I meant.”

[coochiequeens]

I don't like conservative "news" media like fox and this site but no one else is talking about how surrogacy gives pedos access to kids.

The fertility industry is handing designer babies over to men with zero vetting or scrutiny of their mental fitness or criminal history.

By KATY FAUST

Surrogacy is risky for children. Not just the risk of a primal wound via intentional birth mother separation. Not just the risk of identity struggles if their genetic mother is purchased from a catalog. Not just the risk of mother-hunger if they are raised in a home absent maternal love. 

Surrogacy puts children at risk for the worst kinds of abuse. 

That became glaringly obvious last month when YouTubers Shane Dawson and partner Ryan Adams announced the birth of twin boys. Dawson’s long history of sexualizing children is well-known and well-documented. Evie magazine detailed concerning incidents including Dawson pretending to masturbate while watching 11-year-old Willow Smith’s music video, referring to a 6-year-old fan as “kind of sexy,” justifying pedophilia as a mere “fetish,” typing “naked baby” in a child pornography search and remarking that the returns were “sexy,” and proclaiming, “I would rape all of you” when viewing a series of photos featuring young girls wearing his merchandise.

In one show, he instructed a 12-year-old to eat a “cocktail weenie” with the recognition that child molesters comprise a significant portion of his audience. Dawson and Adam have another 10 embryos in frozen storage should they decide they want a few more children around the house.

We hope no harm comes to the boys to whom Dawson and Adams have been granted (via surrogacy contract) parental rights. But other surrogate-born children were not so fortunate.

Contrary to what you may think, surrogacy isn’t just about helping infertile couples have babies. When we look at how surrogacy is actually practiced and promoted, we see surrogacy isn’t about babies, it’s about on-demand, designer babies shipped worldwide. And sometimes, those babies are shipped directly to child abusers.

We don’t know the raw numbers because, unlike organ donation, the medical wing of #BigFertility requires no tracking or follow-up of those who avail themselves of their services. (Apparently, there’s more concern about the survival of a kidney than a child.) And unlike adoption, which heavily vets and screens prospective parents and monitors the child post-placement, surrogate-born children are not known to social workers and often disappear across international borders.

Even when safeguards are in place, predators often go to great lengths to acquire children to abuse. In 2022, the country was horrified by the story of a suburban pedophile ring set up by two married men who raped and pimped out their adopted sons. 

That children created by a fertility industry with no mechanism (and no desire) to scrutinize intended parents for things like mental fitness, criminal records, or predatory history end up in the homes of dangerous adults should surprise no one.

Absent any kind of record-keeping or follow-up on these children, those of us who reject surrogacy on the grounds that it violates the rights of children, must piece together the risks when stories of child victimization emerge. 

These 5 Pedophiles Mail-Ordered Babies

Psychiatrist Jo Erik Brøyn held a high position in Norwegian social services responsible for child protection and was involved in several high-profile cases of child removal. He also acquired two boys through an Indian surrogate. In 2018, police discovered 20 years’ worth of child pornography in his possession — more than 20,000 images and 4,000 hours of videos — depicting child sexual abuse including “boys masturbating each other, fixed/sexualized violence against children, anal sex by men with boys or oral sex of children (including toddlers) on grown men.” He was sentenced to less than two years in prison. Some sources report that the boys have been returned to his care.

An unnamed German pedophile hired a Russian surrogate for €60,000 who birthed the baby in Greece. He then flew the child back to Germany. In 2020, a regional court found him guilty of child abuse and producing and possessing child pornography. His child was a subject of 16 of those cases between the ages of 2 and 3, and the defendant was in possession of 175,000 images of child pornography. He was sentenced to five years in prison. The child was removed from his custody. 

In 2013, Mark Newton and Peter Truong were convicted of subjecting their surrogate-born son to “the worst [pedophile] rings … if not the worst ring I’ve ever heard of,” according to one investigator. After paying a Russian surrogate $8,000 to carry the child, the pair began to violate the boy as a newborn.

“The abuse began just days after his birth and over six years the couple traveled the world, offering him up for sex with at least eight men, recording the abuse and uploading the footage to an international syndicate known as the Boy Lovers Network.” Police believe the pair created the boy through surrogacy “for the sole purpose of exploitation.” The child was removed from their custody, and the men are serving decades-long sentences.

During the height of the Indian surrogacy boom, it was revealed that an Israeli sex offender had procured a little girl via surrogacy. Had #BigFertility had any kind of vetting in place or required fingerprinting or simply character references, it would likely have been discovered that the man had spent 18 months in jail for sexually abusing young children under his supervision. The discovery shocked authorities in both India and Israel, but because they couldn’t prove that abuse had yet taken place, there was no ground to remove the girl from his custody. It did however validate India’s decision to ban single men and gay couples, who composed 30-50 percent of intended parents, from the Indian surrogacy market.

In 2014, intended parents Wendy and David Farnell commissioned twin surrogate children in Thailand, then a global hotspot for surrogacy. The little girl, Pipah, was healthy, but the little boy, Gammy, had serious medical issues as well as Down Syndrome. A scandal erupted when the couple took the little girl back to Australia but abandoned Gammy to be raised by the Thai surrogate.

It was then discovered that David had been jailed in the late 1990s for sexually molesting two girls under the age of 10, and was charged, convicted, and sentenced again in 1998 on six counts of indecently dealing with a child under the age of 13. When his criminal record was revealed and investigated, a judge determined there was “a low risk of harm if Pipah stays in that home,” and she remained in the care of Wendy and David until his death in 2020. The “Baby Gammy” case was one of several scandals that prompted the Thai government to ban commercial surrogacy altogether. 

Many of the above cases are older, the results of contracts that were drawn up when surrogacy was less common. Since then, the surrogacy industry has grown exponentially with a projected 1,000 percent increase by 2032. In addition, there are entire organizations devoted to delivering custom-ordered babies to men, none of which will have to submit to background checks or fingerprinting. So expect more cases of surrogate-born child exploitation in the coming years. 

Whether or not the child ends up abused, whether it’s paid or altruistic, whether it’s traditional or gestational, and regardless of the intended parent’s household composition, surrogacy always violates the rights of the child. It is not a problem that can be solved through regulation. The only way to protect children is to ban surrogacy worldwide.

[kalifornia1025]

Excuse me while I go on about why I loved Shoscombe Old Place Pt. 3 (SPOILERS)

1. John’s less-than jovial intro and the mention of a ‘medical emergency’ followed by a sigh…I was both stressed and wanting to hug him because dude are you okay?? What’s gonna happen??!

2. GENIUS that this case coincidentally goes alongside John’s personal issues revolving around Carrie and her leaving Archie with him! Especially with John and Carrie’s own argument sneaking into an argument about the case. It was honestly so cathartic hearing John call her out on how shitty she was being about something that SHE did! (And we hear a bit more about the healing process John went through after he got hit with the IED bomb!)

4. God, this podcast is just amazing about monologues!! Monologues are hit-or-miss depending on where you hear them from, but this podcast KNOWS that a good monologue is definitely needed for a Sherlock podcast. The whole time I was just captivated by Robert’s monologue: how his sister’s husband’s family was really well off, how Robert’s family wasn’t (also a nice connection to his and John’s personal struggles with classism), and Robert scrambling to do everything Beatrice wished for when she died while also trying to keep up appearances so he wouldn’t have to give everything back to the Falder family and be left with…nothing. No cars, no fancy house, not even his sister…

5. John getting excited to drive one of the cars was great! “JOHN HAMISH WATSON!” “Don’t you ‘Hamish’ ME!”😂😂 Great way to balance out the somberness of Robert’s dilemma with the comedic nature of the podcast!

6. Love love LOVE when Sherlock adaptations remind us that John is a DOCTOR, and a competent one at that!! Dr. John Watson is honestly my favorite character, and so far THIS John is becoming one of my fave Watsons! I was stressing alongside John during that medical emergency scene😰

7. The ending was honestly so sweet! John going back to the river that was used as an analogy for him and his new life, Sherlock packing everything up for John (which is a difference compared to pt. 1 starting with Sherlock not even getting his own things packed yet), Sherlock also passing on some words of appreciation from Joe that John definitely needed, and some lighthearted comedy sprinkled in to wrap up the whole episode🥰💕.

What. A. Case!! I love the direction this podcast is going when it comes to telling classic Sherlock cases while still making it interesting and exciting! I’m glad they only made a SMALL mention to Moriarty because some adaptations get too eager to introduce him into the story and immediately mess with Sherlock. This podcast made the right decision when introducing Moriarty: he’s there, but only a foreboding threat (as he should be). I already posted about my “who Moriarty really is” theory (I know there’s one error in it, but I’ve since then clarified it) but I’m not in a hurry to have my theory be proven right or wrong. I’m just happy with Sherlock and John solving their cases for now☺️.

Whew! Sorry for all that. Just needed to get it all out of my system. Welp, now I gotta wait patiently until they reveal what their next case will be for next week😬.