#taking a look at my bloodwork again

[adr1025]

genetics are so messed up. russian roulette kind of bullshit

[palajae]

wrong place, wrong time.

PAIRING... heeseung x doctor!reader | GENRE... fluff, romance, humor, mentions of hospitals, flirty heeseung | WC... 1kish

“oh my god. he has to be a model. there’s no way-“

“maybe he’s famous…”

“should we ask him for a picture?”

you roll your eyes at the excited chatter coming from the nurses down the hall. who knew what they were gossiping about this time? shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you’re quite literally stopped by the sight of everyone crowded by the front desk.

you frown, taking in their lovestruck expressions. “what’s going on?”

one of the nurses, giselle, quickly squeals and runs over to whisper in your ear. 

“you won’t believe it, doc. the finest man just walked in. his condition seems alright so we’re all trying to figure out what he came in for.”

of course. you let out an exasperated sigh, watching in amusement as everyone fights to be the one to escort him to a room. 

out of pure curiosity, you decide to take a quick glimpse. exactly how handsome could this guy really be?

apparently, very. much. so. 

lee heeseung. early twenties. looks like a member of a famous boy band. has got everyone in close proximity wrapped around his finger.

also, a huge flirt (obviously.) 

the nurses love him, getting any and every chance to bat their eyelashes and flirt back. 

you, on the other hand? 

you’re sure you’ve become a pro at rejecting his advances. 

the first time he came in was for bloodwork. the second time, x-rays. the third time he was “feeling under the weather.” 

honestly, you’re wondering why he visited so often. if anything, most people avoided hospitals.

“hi, dr. y/l/n.”

your lips press together in a thin line. your eyes remain focused on the clipboard in front of you. you weren’t counting but this was, what? 

his fourth time checking in? 

“heeseung. you’re back…again. may i ask why you seem to love the hospital?”

he smirks teasingly, “or maybe why the hospital seems to love me?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes indiscreetly. 

he did it every time. of course, he was friendly with everyone. but heeseung just seemed to go the extra mile around you. 

“i think i ate something bad.”

you quirk an eyebrow, “oh really?”

“i don’t know, maybe it was something the chef cooked?” he responds cheekily. 

you let out a huff of air, one long enough that blows the baby hairs out of your face. “…what did you eat last night?”

“oh, it was delicious,” his eyes bore into you as he continues to ramble on.

“any pain, discomfort, bowel movements?” you interrupt, clicking your pen incessantly. 

“no, just the ache in my heart when you ignore me,” he clutches his chest playfully.

you look up at him with pursed lips. 

“you know what? i think you’re fine and it’s time for you to go.”

you guide heeseung to the front desk to drop him off, about to leave him in the hands of the receptionist. as you’re about to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist. it’s subtle—under the table so no one else can see. 

your body stiffens for a moment, examining his face that holds an unreadable expression. when neither of you utter a single word, you gently pull your arm from his grip when someone calls for you. 

winter’s mouth drops open. “you’re telling me he came back a fourth time? this must be a record.”

ningning nods excitedly, “i mean, there has to be a reason. who do you think he keeps coming back for?”

you almost choke on your water. “you’re saying-?”

she turns to you, eyebrows raised insistently. “there must be a certain someone that catches his eye here.”

“i wish it were me,” giselle sulks as her fork stabs into her food pathetically. 

winter frowns, “you know, he has been really clingy to you, doc.”

you swallow harshly. “huh?”

everyone begins to chime in accordance. 

“yeah, he always asks about you and what you’re doing.”

“he only gets check ups from you, too.”

you scoff, shaking your head slightly. “don’t remind me.”

the three of them pause for a short moment, before their expressions change. you feel fear and apprehension course through your veins. 

“do you not like him? is it because you think he’s so cute?”

“are you interested in him?” their wide eyes and questioning voices makes your mouth dry.

“now that i think about it… y/n’s the only one who doesn’t seem down bad for heeseung.”

you stammer, unable to form a response until your pager goes off. 

“ha-oh. well, that’s my cue!” 

you quickly make your escape in order to hide your flustered expression. 

after you finished your rounds later, you slump into your chair in the cafeteria. the sounds of the conversation from the table next to you drifts over to your ears. 

“do you think it’s because of me? i mean, he always greets me good morning with those dreamy eyes of his.”

your eye twitches. 

“don’t think you’re so special. heeseung waves goodbye to me every time.”

alright, enough of this. you stand up, chair clattering backwards quite loudly, and walk off. you’ve just made it to your office, opening the door, when you freeze.

“heeseung? what are you doing here?”

he immediately smiles from—your eyes narrow—your rolling chair. he rolls closer, a bit too close.

“why do you keep asking when you know the  answer already?”

for a moment, you keep your eyes locked. then you let your professional mode switch off. 

“you really need to stop coming, hee. people are getting ideas,” you chide gently with a ruffle of his hair.

he leans into your touch with a hum, “about you and me?”

you push his head away with a snort, “no. about you and them.” 

with a chuckle, he wraps his arms around your waist. “i’m sorry. i can’t help but miss my baby when you’re practically working all day.”

you soften, “i know. i’m sorry. but this is getting a little out of hand.”

suddenly heeseung gets up, moving closer towards you. “will a kiss make up for it?”

you pretend to think, tapping your foot thoughtfully, “maybe… depends on how good of a kiss.“

he quickly leans in, one arm snaking around your waist while the other cups your cheek. your eyes begin to close. as soon as you feel the ghost of his lips touch yours, the door slides open. 

“doc-“

you immediately push heeseung off of you, startled. and then proceed to shut the door in giselle’s face, quite literally. with panicked whispers, you manage to shove your boyfriend under the desk with a final shh!

about 0.3 seconds later, you slide the door open again. 

giselle stands there, gaping. 

“what was that?!”

“what was what?” you clear your throat nonchalantly, taking a look at your patient’s files. 

“you-he-“ she splutters, “heeseung!” 

“what are you talking about?”

“you’re the one heeseung keeps coming for?”

“doctor y/l/n?!”

you both freeze. the rest of the nurses look from you to giselle and back with shell shocked faces. 

you want to curl up into a ball. this is not how you wanted everyone to find out. given, you didn’t expect your loving boyfriend to visit out of the blue without any context. 

you smile sheepishly. “surprise?”

before you know it, a hand finds its way onto your shoulder. you almost jump before relaxing at the touch. 

“we-we thought- heeseung-“

you bite your lip, as heeseung chuckles. you wanted to keep your personal life and work life separate, but with your job getting so hectic the past couple weeks, you realized you had spent way more time at the hospital than at home. 

immediately, guilt runs through your body. heeseung had always been so sweet and understanding, and seeing him come visit your work really put things in perspective. 

how bad must’ve it been for him to have to go out of his way just to see you? while you kept brushing him off? 

you wrap an arm around his waist, hugging him closer. “guys, this is my boyfriend, heeseung—as most of you already know.”

he looks at you with surprise evident in his eyes. obviously, you weren’t the most open person. 

as everyone watches you two with jaws dropped, you squeeze his hand in hopes he understands. you’re lucky to have heeseung—the most empathetic person you know, because he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, “no more running away and prioritizing work.”

everyone else in the room fades away as he truly looks you in the eye. 

“i know, baby. i know.”

as you both beam at each other, you’re assured in the love you feel together once more. 

a/n ▸ jae posting two days in a row? that’s crazy

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount

@hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @who-tf-soddhi

@microwvdstrawb3rri3s @asteria-wood @enhacatalog @june-pop @ohsjy

@ashtxrie @isoobie @mireyaaaaaaaaa @choppedballoondetective

send a message to be added to the taglist!

[qwimblenorrisstan]

To Be Known | Azriel x Reader

Summary: You’ve always been afraid to confess to Azriel about your feelings for him, but after a hookup gone wrong, everything begins falling apart, and he’s there to pick up the pieces.

Word Count: ~ 2.4k

Warnings: Drunk ppl, drunk fem reader, allusions to smut, std mentions, bloodwork (doctors), guy being an ahole + taking advantage of drunk reader, scars, angst to comfort

A/N: this request was so good (ty to anon!!), I feel like az always pairs really good with angst to comfort, anyways hope you enjoy<3 (also sorry for lack of posts recently I just had a math+science test back to back and have spent the past few days studying😭)

Requests are open!

Unlike the rest of your friend group, you weren’t special.

You weren’t a High Lord, Spymaster, General, High Lady, Seer, or any special title. You weren’t funny like Mor, witty like Amren, or even talented in much like all of your friends were.

But then again, like your mother had said, opposites always attract.

Maybe that was why had always had a small crush on the Spymaster who was withdrawn and secretive, the opposite of your friendly personality. You could befriend just about anyone, knowing their name, age, and at least a few background details on them in a few minutes, while Azriel was the exact opposite, getting his information on people through other ways.

With his job and his centuries of experience for two different High Lords, it was a wonder he didn’t already know about your crush on him. Maybe it was because, like everyone else, he was focused on the central characters in your friend group.

The three sisters and brothers. It was hard to overlook them, with all their achievements and accomplishments, not to mention the things they’d overcome and their pasts.

Tonight you were all out at Rita’s, Cassian telling awful jokes to Nesta as she rolled her eyes, playfully swatting him on the shoulder, Rhys and Feyre having a drinking competition, Azriel brooding somewhere in the corner, alone because of Elain visiting Autumn Court with Mor for “political purposes” even though everyone knew she wanted to see Lucien.

You were taking a sip of your drink, idly standing at the bar, elbows propped on the table as your eyes raked through the crowd, searching for someone who could offer a decent hookup. Drunk Fae stumbled about, laughing loudly with genuine joy that made your lips twitch up a bit, the music playing in the background also helping your mood as a cool breeze blew through the open area.

“Looking for someone?”

You choked on your drink, alcohol coming back up to sting your throat a second time before you swallowed it all backdown, one hand over your heart as you sighed in relief, looking at Azriel who’d somehow approached without you knowing.

“Mother above, Az, you scared the shit outta me.”

You replied, taking a few more breaths to calm down, turning to face him, back now against the bar table as the shadowsinger looked down at you, hair falling into his eyes in a boyish way that made you giggle as you tried to brush some behind his hair.

“Someone needs a haircut,”

You teased, and a hint of a smile graced his lips.

“I’ll make sure not to go to Mor this time.”

He said, grimacing for a moment at the memory of the awful haircut Mor had given him, insisting he needed it, only to butcher his beautiful dark locks. You could still remember how distraught he’d been after, looking like a puppy that had just been kicked.

“I could do it, my mom used to cut hair, taught me a thing or two,”

You offered with a little shrug, taking another sip of your drink, one you’d already refilled by now. Maybe twice. You couldn’t remember, all you knew was that the hangover in the morning would be brutal.

A chuckle from Azriel made you rub your thighs together as he shook his head in fond exasperation. He swallowed, almost nervously, odd for him, before speaking.

“Maybe next time, though I wouldn’t object if you-“

He was cut short by another male strolling up to you a tad bit too confidently, one arm going to the right of you on the bar table as his eyes met yours.

An old partner. Particularly a fuck-buddy.

The best solution for tonight, really, since Cauldron knows you weren’t bold enough to push anything with Azriel. He was a friend, nothing more, or at least you tried to convince yourself. He still hadn’t gotten over Elain, or you thought he hadn’t yet, and you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship or making things awkward between the two of you because of your desires the the crush you’d kept secret for years.

Your fuck-buddy’s eyes met yours, and you swallowed, glancing at Azriel as he watched the silent interaction the two of you had before giving a terse nod and walking away. You would’ve noticed how his eyes narrowed, or how he looked stiff if you hadn’t taken a few too many sips between talking with those at Rita’s tonight.

“Want to take this back to my place?”

The male drawled, arm sliding around your waist as he began guiding you to the exit around the side, where people could discreetly leave. Neither of you was beating around the bush, and you rarely did anyway. You both just needed a release, or at least you did.

“Mm..sure.”

You murmured, body hot now, thinking about Azriel instead of the male leading you to his old home, wishing it was Azriel’s hands on you, wishing you knew what it felt like to know him more, deeper than just the tip of the iceberg you’d touched.

~

Weeks had passed since that night, you’d woken up cold and alone in the male’s bed, gotten up, and collected your clothes before walking your ass back to the townhouse while your head had felt like someone split it open.

You had vowed not to go drinking for a while now.

And things had gotten weird between you and Azriel Joe, too. He was avoiding you, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, you could tell.

When he heard your footsteps, he left the room almost immediately, hell, even his shadows were avoiding you, not following you like loyal dogs per usual, just one or two to make sure you were safe at all times like he did for every member of the Inner Circle. His jaw was clenched every time he was in a room with you, and he wouldn’t look you in the eye, maybe couldn’t.

You barely remembered what had happened that night other than a few blurry memories of conversations and whatnot; so you didn’t know if you’d said something stupid and messed it up, or he thought you were a whore for going out with that other male and leaving him all alone.

The more you thought about it, the more you thought the latter was more likely.

It didn’t help that just a few days later, amidst all your worries, you’d decided to take a little walk through Velaris to get some outside time and a serotonin boost, only for the exact opposite to happen when you were met with your previous fuck-buddy from that night weeks ago screaming in your face, yanking you down a small alleyway to properly yell at you.

“Nasty bitch, gave me a disease! If you’re going to be a whore, at least keep your fucking viruses to yourself-!”

Horror shot through you at his words. You didn’t have any sort of STD, not that you knew of at least, and if you’d spread the theoretical disease to him…He might be an asshole, but no one deserves that.

Unsure what to do as tears welled in your eyes and fell, you began trying to ignore him as you turned and dashed out of the alleyway, the loose clothing you were wearing helping you to slightly outpace him through the streets, avoiding the children and Fae on them, not to mention the vendors and toys strewn about.

He pursued you, screaming still, and hot tears of embarrassment pouring down your cheeks as you began to sob, you didn’t even realize you’d outrun him until you were already at the steps to the House of Wind, ascending them, not even bothering to count out the 10,000 steps in your head.

Somehow, through either pure anger or sadness, you reached the top right when your knees gave out, only for Nesta to catch you right before you fell, dressed in her training leathers, weapons strapped to her. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion and already-building anger as she saw you crying your eyes out.

“What’s wrong?”

She demanded, shifting to hold you up fully, carrying you bridal style as she started walking into the House, snapping her fingers once she got inside, and the House listened to her as always, making a warm cup of tea in your favorite flavor, and a comfort meal she knew you loved as she slowly sat you down at the table. The House must’ve deemed it necessary when it added a cushion beneath your butt on the chair, considering your aching legs.

You tried to blubber out an answer amidst the tears, but couldn’t manage to, and her eyes softened as she sighed, sitting down next to you on your right, before seeing that she wasn’t making much progress, and getting back up.

“Eat, we can talk about this later, I’ll go get him.”

You were about to ask who she was going to get, even though a part of you already knew as you saw her walking off in the direction of his room. You began slowly digging into the food, finding yourself to be much hungrier than earlier anticipated. Then again, you’d skipped out on breakfast, expecting to get a big lunch while out and about in Velaris.

Azriel arrived only a moment later, shadows swirling, concern evident on his face as Nesta gave him a stern look and pointed to you before she mouthed “You’re welcome.” to you, and strolled out of the door.

“What happened?”

He asked, smooth voice soaked in worry as he quickly pulled out the same chair Nesta had just been sitting in, sitting in it as it groaned under his weight. One of his wings stretched out in your direction, just barely curling around you.

You swallowed a bite of your food, tears coming back up.

“It’s embarrassing.”

You managed to croak out, and he shook his head.

“I won’t make fun of you, I promise.”

He pledged, and you trusted that promise as you sniffled again, wiping the wetness from your eyes with one hand.

“Me and that male from Rita’s, we slept together, and he just accused me of…of giving him an STD.”

You said, before breaking into sobs again, hands going to cover your face despite the warmth that burned in your cheeks from the shame of being in this situation. His large palm gently brushed over your back as he scooted closer, raising an eyebrow at the cushion in your seat for half a second before his wing curled fully around you; and he pulled you into a surprisingly warm hug.

“I’m sorry.”

He murmured, and your sobs slowly subsided until you had no tears left to cry, but you still held onto him in the hug, hands fisting the back of his shirt, the cloth bunching up beneath your fingers.

“What if I do, though? Have a..virus?”

He gave a little hum of thought.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, do you want to go get tested?”

You gave a sad little nod, a small pout on your lips that made him want to rip apart the male that made you feel this way. He gently picked you up, careful with your sore legs, figuring out what had happened rather quickly after some of his shadows informed him what they’d seen. They also quickly informed him on the full story, and what that male had done. Another job for another day, but he would make sure he paid for it.

Nearly two hours later, you’d had to pee in a cup for Madja to check, and now were getting blood taken to get that tested as well, as well as any other necessary bodily fluids. Symptoms were noted if there were any. It was uncomfortable at best, but Azriel held your hand the entire time, not even wincing when you squeezed his hand a bit too hard for all the scars covering it.

He quickly winnowed the both of you to the House of Wind afterward, having been told the results would take at least a day to get back. He winnowed the both of you straight into his room.

It was dark, curtains drawn and everything, with the barest essentials in it as well as a desk for work, a few maps hanging from the walls, and assortments of fancy knives you knew he must’ve collected over the centuries.

You turned to leave, but his hand grasping your wrist quickly made you turn, tilting your head sideways in mild confusion.

“Stay.”

He begged, looking terrified of what you might say, but also hopeful. You sniffled again, nodding and tentatively following him as he gently led you over to the bed, each move like a new dance, one that neither of you had practiced before, but were willing to try.

He slowly stripped his leathers off, letting you see his scarred body and wings for what it truly was. And for once, the sight of his bare body, while very attractive, didn’t just make you horny or craving him. It made you appreciate him, who he was at his core. The years he’d spent training and honing his body to protect his Court, the scars he’d suffered protecting his loved ones and serving them; even willing to take it to the end.

You appreciated him. Even in the bad lighting of the room, or the thick shadows swirling everywhere, you appreciated Azriel.

And so, in turn, you began slowly tugging your clothes off, leaving only your undergarments on. His eyes ran over you, respectfully as always, but taking in your vulnerability; who you were beneath the covers, before he gave a small nod.

He walked over to his dresser, pulled out one of his more casual shirts; one that was clean that he hadn’t worn in a good while, and walked over to you, standing in front of you as he helped gently tug the opening over your head, guiding your hands to the arm holes, adjusting it for you.

No words were exchanged, and none needed to be, not ad you both crawled into his bed under the blankets, and he enveloped you in an embrace; wings and arms wrapped around you with his head tucked into your neck.

And tonight, you knew for sure that you wouldn’t wake up cold and alone like that night so many weeks ago.

No, tonight, you didn’t need the warmth of passion or lust to keep you from the biting cold, now you had Azriel by your side, and that was more than enough.

[russellsppttemplates]

Not anymore (Lando Norris)

Lando's determined to make you see where you belong

Note: english is not my first language. I hope this is still enjoyable to read as I really challenged myself with these pieces! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me)! This is part 2 of We don't fit together ! Edit: I used a line from dumplingsjinson (they're the best 🫶✨️)

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, curse words, bloodwork

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Part 1

The past couple of days were strange. Lando still sent you his usual good morning and good night texts he would send whenever you didn't spend the night together, and you replied. Still, because of your schedule and his schedule, the text for the dreaded conversation came through only this morning

From Lan

Needed to get my bloods done and then Jon also needed a physical assessment so this morning was a rush, but I'm free for the rest of the day if you want to talk, lovie

To Lan

I'll be home for the whole day, you can come here whenever it's best for you!

Tidying the place up a bit, the thoughts on your head kept the same train of ideas. You didn't fit his lifestyle, and the constant doubts you felt were certainly not the way you wanted to go about your life.

There was a knock on the door when you were fluffing the pillows and you walked up to open it, see Lando with somewhat dark circles under his eyes and a bunch of your favourite flowers, "Come in", you said softly as you both headed to the living room, sitting down since you didn't know what else to do.

"Thank you for texting, there was this part of me that didn't believe you would", you admitted. This was the time to be honest, still remaining polite and aware of the words leaving your mouth.

"Of course I did, Y/N, I want us to talk this out, I want us out of this rough patch", Lando pleaded softly, "I'm so sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", he offered, cutting through the silence when you seemed to not know what to say to kick-start the conversation.

"It's not your fault, Lando", you spoke the truth, "you have been on my mind every conscious second, every thought is about this and I- I really don't know how we will do this, how we will do that", you pointed to him in allusion to the goal he had, "I'm sorry".

Lando gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs before speakingup, "I did too, and I want you to know I just want you to be happy, fuck, there's nothing I want more in life than to see you happy, and right now it pains me that I am the one that's making you hurt", he let his heart out.

"It's not only your fault", you whispered again, this time looking at him. Your insecurities were just that - your own - and you were responsible from how certain triggers made you feel and react, "I have to be the one to know how to deal with these".

"And I want to help you, lovie, you don't have to do this all alone all the time", Lando offered, "I want us to work and this is a conjoined effort - you shouldn't be doing that alone".

Silence filled the room as the gears turned in your head before you looked up again, seeing the broken look on Lando's face, "Do you think we should take a break? Spend some time away from eachother?", you voiced.

Lando didn't expect the option you suggested. Spending time further apart didn't seem like the right thing to do when you were obviously feeling like you didn't fit in and belong in his life, "are you sure that's the way to go? We'll do what you feel the most comfortable and happy with, but I don't want you to feel like I want you away or that you have to keep away from me - I want you with me for as much time as you can give me".

"It's silly, I know - I've never done this before, I don't know what to do", you shrugged your shoulders. Usually, by the time any insecurities shone through, your past partners had already left.

Lando sighed, "If that is what you think is going to help I'm all in, Y/N. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm serious about this, but I'm giving up on us, I'm going to fight for you", Lando stated as tears started forming in his eyes, keeping them at bay because this wasn't the end. It couldn't be.

"I'm going to show you just how much you belong with me and how well we fit together, okay?", he checked with you, seeing a small nod, the uncertainty behind it only fueling him to put all his efforts into it.

.

"I wanted to do something we haven't done in a while", Lando said over the phone as he packed the tupperwares into the basket.

"Yes? And what would that be?", you asked. Lando kept a respectful distance but he made sure that everyday that you didn't spend together, you knew he was thinking about you and doing all these little things to remind you of how much he loved you and how you were meant to be together.

"I'm not going to tell you because it's a surprise, but I need to warn you to bring comfortable shoes, and as much as I love your little dresses, anything without a skirt would be better", you heard him smile.

"Okay, anywhere I should go to?", you wondered, "I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes if that's okay?", he quesioned, getting a positive answer from you, "see you soon, beautiful girl, I love you!".

Lando finished packing the picnic basket, getting the napkins and the drinks from the fridge so he could go to his bedroom and get ready.

He planned a fun afternoon, starting with a cycle around the city before finishing with a picnic in the park as he knew it was one of your favourite things. He had come up with many of your favourite plans to do together lately and he was feeling good about it. There was nothing he wanted more than to show you that you fit together and that both of your lives could compliment eachother if you both made adjustments. He was going out less than he used to and favouring to spend that time with you, he made sure you knew he was there and that he wasn't planning on leaving.

Finding a t-shirt and some jeans, he got two buckets hats from the new Quadrant Spring collection they would be launching soon and got ready to leave the apartment.

The drive to your wasn't long, but he never knew with the after lunch traffic, finding a good spot for his car and seeing you already at the entrance of the building, checking the street before crossing it, "hey, Lan", you smiled as you got inside the vehicle, kissing his cheek softly as he drove out of the spot once you had your seatbelt on, "hey, baby, how has your day been?".

"It's good, better now that I'm getting out of the house with some very nice company", you smiled.

The park wasn't too far, and when Lando parked near the rental city bikes with a smirk on his face, you knew what he wanted to do for the afternoon, "we're cycling?", you beamed.

"Yes! I also have some snacks here for a picnic later", Lando got the basket from the cartrunk, carrying it to the bike and making sure it was safely attached to it, scanning the code for his bike and then yours.

"Wait", he said as you were making sure the seat was at the right height, cycling around the area. Fishing out the bucket hat from the basket, he shook it a little so it would have a nice shape before putting it on your head, kissing your lips softly as he looked at you, "these are new and I needed my prettiest model to try them on first", he charmed as you blushed, "plus, I don't want the sun to blind you or burn you".

You cycled around your favourite spots in town, Lando occasionally taking pictures of the city and you with his camera and waving at the odd person who noticed and recognised it was him and you on the bikes, before you returned to the park, deciding to cycle to your favourite spot by the old big trees, blossoming from the spring sun.

"Thank you for this", you mumbled as you wiped your lips free of crumbs from the cake you had.

"Y/N, I won't stop fighting for us when we have something worth fighting for", he smiled, pulling you to lay on the blanket with him and holding your hands between your bodies, "I also got this really cool invite for the new exhibition at the museum - that one you wanted to see - and you want to know why it is so cool? Because we get the exhibition all to ourselves, no one else is going to be there which means you can take as long as you want and I can admire you all to myself and all I want too", he kissed your cheek.

"Sounds like a nice plan, thank you", you kissed his jaw.

.

You scanned your paddock pass as walked in the directions you were giving, not wanting to mess up the schedule and the lined up events everyone had.

They had been experimenting with new events to promote motorsport, adding parties and sunset events to the race weekend on order to gather all of the sponsors, famous people and fans who were interested in seeing the behind the scenes of a luxurious and extravagant race weekend.

"Everyone who still doesn't have a bracelet can come through here, please", one of the women in black suits called as you stood in that line, waiting for you turn.

"Here you go, enjoy the party!", she smiled, letting you go through and carrying on with her tasks.

The section involving the paddock, pitlane and the starting grid decorated with lights over bars serving drinks while staff went around with trays with small canapés.

You supposed this did work or they wouldn't try it out, after all it was an expensive sport and the more investors and sponsors they got, the better, so every little interaction and publicity was welcomed. You recognised a lot for the faces from Instagram and other social media platforms, along with some of the sponsors you had spent races sitting next to in the garage.

The face you wanted to see the most was nowhere in sight as you saw Oscar and Zak in the distance, talking to someone you recognised being one of their sponsors.

When you stepped closer to the area where most drivers seemed to be hanging out, you spotted Lando and he spotted you.

It had been nearly a year since you called it quits. It wasn't working for you and no matter how much Lando tried and fought for your relationship, you still didn't feel comfortable and thought you'd be better without eachother. It wasn't easy and to this day it would probably be one of your biggest regrets.

Maybe today you'd get to ease that heavy feeling in your chest.

Lando knew a lot of people would be there tonight, but your face wasn't one he expected. Last thing he heard about you was that you had made a small career switch and started working with another company, so he figured you were probably invited through one of the people with deep pockets wanting to invest in motorsport, knowing how it always looks nice on the company to invite employees to these fixtures.

As he saw his father and Max walk up to where you were, he walked in your direction, hoping to divert them so they wouldn't see you, another person pulled him with him to the side for a photo and it became impossible for him to not notice you and the other way around.

“It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”, you spoke up when you locked eyes and stood close enough to eachother.

"Yes, it has", Lando stated, "how have you been?", he wondered.

"I've been okay, and I see you have been doing well too - the car looks great this year", you congratulated, "I've been meaning to text you because I wanted to talk", you tried.

It took you some time to work on your insecurities, to learn to feel uncomfortable in some situations and get yourself out of them, and now you felt ready to begin again, feeling comfortable in your own skin.

"What did you want to tell me? You can tell me here", he stated coldly.

To say you broke his heart would be an understatement.

Despite all of his efforts, stopping DJ'ing, being conscious of who he hung out with, making sure he spent as much time with you as he could, you still raised concerns about how you were like oil and water.

Not made to be together.

"This really isn't the best place", you looked around as he pulled you inside the McLaren garage that was just on the side, exchanging a look with the security guard that was making sure no one broke in without permission.

"Is it good here now?", he offered.

"It will have to do", you smiled, "I'm sorry things didn't work out before - I wasn't in a good place and things weren't working out the way I'd like", you offered, "and I feel better now".

"Let me stop you right there before this gets out of hand and I hurt you, because I have never wanted that and I don't want it now", Lando said sternly, catching you off guard, "making peace with the fact that we weren't going to work out together was one of the hardest things I've done - I was miserable, didn't enjoy racing or anything that I was doing because I didn't have you by my side - you left me when I needed you", he poured his heart out.

He didn't shout and he didn't yell, but every word stung. Both from how true they were and how he had hurt because of you.

"I'm sorry, Lando, I wasn't trying to diminish how you felt then", you clarified.

"I know you didn't, but this isn't how it works, fuck", he rubbed his temple, "You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it - I waited so long for you, and I wanted to wait longer if you had let me, but now I can't do that, not anymore", he stated firmly.

"Are you saying we don't have another chance?", you asked as your bottom lip wobbled, "I promise I'll be more open about how I feel, and second guessing wo-".

“You were it at one point, you know?”, Lando shook his head as he looked at his feet before looking up back at you, "my parents, Max, Carlos - everyone agreed with me when I said you were my endgame", he offered.

There had been a time where he wished for this. For you to come to him and tell him you wanted him back and how it had all been a mistake. Now that he was hearing it, he realised he didn't want it, not anymore.

[dira333]

Hurting together - Aizawa x Reader

mentions of Chronic pain, requested by @alienaiver I hope this is in any way what you've imagined.

“Nervous?” Shouta asks after a full 120 seconds of your leg bouncing without stopping.

“Huh?! Oh, oh, I’m sorry!” You scramble to a halt, arm resting on your leg to keep it in place. “I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to stop now. But if you wanna talk about it, I heard that helps.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t wanna … I don’t wanna annoy anyone,” you mutter, eyes flickering from left to right.

“Do you wanna hear my story then?” He asks, not because it’s something he likes sharing, but you’re cute and what’s the alternative? Staring at the wall until he gets called in.

“Oh, if you… if you don’t mind?”

He huffs out a breath. “Well, apparently it’s not healthy to break a bone every single week.”

“Oh!” Your eyes grow huge. “Every single week? Wait, is it the same bone.”

“No,” he snorts softly, “At least then I’d have a better story. I’m a pro Hero, I just happen to get into fights.”

“And what’s your Hero Name? Fragile Bone?”

It takes him a second to recognize the joke, snorting loudly when he does. You’re snappy, now that the anxiety fades.

“No, it’s uh… Eraser Head.” He waits a second for you to recognize him, the star-struckness to hit. But it doesn’t. Instead, you cock your head to the side and eye him thoroughly. 

“Interesting,” you say, “I remember an Interview you were forced to give a few years back. Uh, I think there was a streaker at the Sports Festival?”

He laughs. “Good Memory. Yeah, that was one of our students. He didn’t have his Quirk under Control back then.”

“And you’ve got a broken bone now? Or is this just a check-up?”

“Bloodwork.”

“Yikes,” you pull a face, “me too. It’s the worst.”

“It is,” he agrees, dares to ask before he can lose his courage again. “Want me to hold your hand through the process?”

And it’s smooth, smoother than he’s ever been able to - maybe the absence of his friends does benefit his ability to flirt - and he might even get his hopes up for a second there - until your face falls.

“That’s really tempting, you know, but I… uh… my hands are hurting. That’s why I’m here, you know, to figure out why they’re hurting like this. So hand-holding is kinda a no-go.”

“Oh, I understand,” the dejection must be audible in his voice because you reach out for him, though you don’t take hold.

“But if you want,” you offer, voice a little breathless, “you could… uh… put your hand on my shoulder? It might look weird, but-”

“I’ve seen weirder things,” he offers and your smile lights up the room.

-

“Oh, I didn’t know you were coming in together,” Doc Oc greets him and for a moment he is paralyzed, frozen between two different emotions. Surprise, because Doc OC’s obviously familiar with you and he’s got the worst memory when it comes to names. Embarrassment, because it’s usually not the best thing if a Doctor remembers you by name, let alone this one.

“Ah,” you smile, “We met in the waiting room. Bloodwork, you now. It’s easier if it’s done together.”

“That I can agree with. Now, who wants to go first?”

-x-

“Now, I believe you owe me something,” Recovery Girl announces one afternoon, a big smile cutting into her wrinkly face. “What’s her name?”

“Huh?” Shouta had been busy reading through this week's assignment, deciphering the texts. Denki’s Handwriting almost requires a PHD in decoding.

“Doc Oc and I have been friends for quite some time. One would call us even… very close… if you know what I mean. He said you brought in lovely company.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess…” He can’t help but blush at her tone. Too much information.

“Well, are you going to ask her out? You cannot count this as your first date, surely? A fancy Dinner is a must.”

“A fancy Dinner is a must for whom?” Hizashi’s leaning around the door and Shouta groans. Of all people to overhear this.

“Shouta’s girlfriend.”

“Shouta has a girlfriend? Shouta, my man, why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you love me anymore? Your best friend?”

He crawls further into his sleeping bag, closing his eyes. Those assignments can wait, if he can fall in to a coma first, he-

-x-

“So?” Rumi leans against your Desk. “Did he call you?”

“Not yet,” you’re chewing on your lower lip, “But he’s probably busy.”

“Busy my ass,” she snorts angrily. “You’re a catch. If he doesn’t get a groove on you’re gone. He should know that.”

You level your friend - and boss - with a glare. “I’ve been single for a year.”

“Which he doesn’t know,” she sings. “But on another note, have you’ve gotten the results from your bloodwork? You know we only need that so we can get started on your hands-free Desktop.”

“Why do you sound more excited about this than I am?”

“Because you’re afraid of change and I am not. Just think, your hands will finally get to rest!”

“Yay,” you wave them around half-heartedly when your phone pings.

Rumi’s already grabbing it from your desk, always faster than you. “Oh, it’s your guy.” She hands it back. “Not looking.”

“Thank you for respecting my privacy,” you joke and open the short text only to gasp.

“He’s asking me out.”

“Great, so he’s not an idiot. Confirm.”

“No, no, he’s asking me out for a date tonight. You know how bad my legs have been today, I can’t show up with a cane.

“Why not?”

“Because,” you drag out, “the last time I did that there was no second date.”

“And you think he’s that shallow?”

“I just don’t want to jinx it.”

“Fine,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “Tell him you can’t tonight because you’re working late. Ask him if he’s able to reschedule for tomorrow or Friday.”

You hesitate, but do as you’re told.

“And now,” she grabs your bag as soon as you put your phone down, “you get your cute ass home and rest. I want you as fit as you can be tomorrow so you can enjoy that date.”

“But work-”

“Work is like my ex - it will always wait for you.”

-x-

“Fuck,” Shouta groans, head on his arms. The pain is strong today.

“You… uh… you good?” He hears a familiar voice from the door. Shit, he forgot about training with Hitoshi.

“Fantastic,” he grinds through his teeth though he does not dare to lift his head. Lunch was decent, but he doesn’t want to taste it again.

“Do you need Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m going to be fine. Can you get me my painkillers from my bag? I would, but moving-”

“Sure, sure.” He can hear rustling and then a pill is dropped into his outstretched palm.

Slowly, carefully, he drags his arm back to pop it into his mouth, swallows it dry. He’s got loads of practice.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be right as rain.”

“Uh, if you say so.”

-

He’s got a black eye.

He’s got a black eye and a date in about thirty minutes and the painkillers are making him particularly loopy today.

Hitoshi wouldn’t have been able to hit him in the face if his reaction time hadn’t been so slow. He’s lucky no bone is broken.

Something tells him that it would be better to reschedule, but wouldn’t that make him look disinterested when he’s not?

-

“Mew.” 

Shouta turns to the sound, surprised to see a black cat looking up at him. There’s a hedge there, and he bends down to pet the animal. 

“You’re loud, huh?” He comments on the purring, taking a seat on the ground when his knees turn a little wobbly. He really is getting older. 

The cat disappears into the hedge and he holds out a hand, making little sounds to lure her back out.

Just as he can spot the green eyes blinking back at him, a banknote is dropped into his hand.

“Here,” a voice says, “It’s cold out.”

Shouta freezes, only to look up into your face.

“Uh,” he makes, suddenly envious of Kaminari when he cooks his brain. 

“I didn’t mean-” you say just as he exclaims loudly: “There’s a cat.”

“Where?” You ask, peering into the hedge. “I love cats.”

-x-

“This was nice,” you tell him after Dinner, the episode with the Cat now something you can laugh about. “Would you like to do it again sometimes?”

“Yes,” he nods slowly, “I’m sorry if I was a little loopy today. I took… uh, I forgot to take a nap.”

“Ah,” you smile, “You’re getting old too? If I don’t get my usual lunch nap I’m not so nice to be around.”

Shouta laughs. “Somehow I find that hard to believe. You’re very nice to be around.”

“You think so?” You ask, heart skipping a beat when he nods.

“How are your hands?” He looks down at them, “Can I hold them? Or do they still hurt?”

“If you don’t squeeze them I should be fine,” you say, praying that it’s the truth.

It is a little uncomfortable, if you were to tell the truth, but he’s gentle and your heart blooms at the implications.

If only you could put this moment in a jar, keep it for all the days where it’s hard to get up.

 -

“So?” Rumi leans over your desk, grinning wide. “Gimme the scoop.”

“We went out, it was amazing, I don’t know when I’m going to see him again.”

“That’s not the scoop, that’s a short summary. I want every detail. Also, what does it mean you don’t know when you-”

The ringtone of your phone cuts her off. You take a peak only to gasp.

“It’s him. He’s calling.”

“Well, pick up. I’ll come back as soon as you’re finished. And I want all the details.”

-

It’s hard to find time for another date.

Shouta works two fulltime jobs and you’re overwhelmed with just one.

But he calls or texts every day, sending you pics of cats whenever he’s out on patrol.

It’s nice, but it could be nicer.

When he asks what you’re doing and you’re in bed, pain holding you down, you cannot tell him the truth. Because he doesn’t know the truth. And telling him over the phone seems insensitive.

Sometimes he sounds pretty loopy when he calls and you wonder if he’s getting enough sleep. But when you ask him about it he evades the question so masterfully, that you only remember it hours after the call.

“I think I have to come clean,” you tell Rumi one day during lunch, your hands in thick compression gloves to combat the pain. “This season is hitting me hard and I cannot postpone our next date again just because I cannot go anywhere without a cane.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well. From what you’ve told me about him he seems very nice.”

“Yeah,” you sigh,”so nice I don’t want to lose him.”

-x-

Of all the moments for a migraine to hit, this has to be the worst. 

Okay, maybe the second worst, because he’s not currently fighting someone.

But he’s been pressing his temple against the fridge doors of this Konbini for half an hour now, clearly unsettling the other shoppers, and his painkillers are far, far away in his car’s glove compartment.

Every time he thinks he’s got it now, turning away from the coldness has his lunch rise up in his throat.

“Shouta?” A familiar voice asks and the ice seeps into his veins. It’s you.

“No, I’m not Shouta. You must mistake me for someone else.”

“You’re wearing a nametag. Backward, but you’re wearing it.”

He sighs. “Can you just pretend you’re not seeing me?”

“I could, but why?”

“This is embarrassing.”

“I mistook you for a homeless man, I think we’ve already reached top embarrassment.”

“I’m having a Migraine.”

“See,” he can hear the encouragement in your voice, knows exactly how your mouth curls at the words even if he cannot see it. “That’s very low on the embarrassment list. Do you need a painkiller?”

“Yeah, but they’re in my car.”

“What are you using.”

“I doubt you have that. You can only get it via prescription.”

Shouta names it, hears you chuckle.

“Oh, you bet I got that. One pill is enough, right?”

“Right.” He can hear rustling before a pill is pressed into his hands. He swallows it dry. 

“It will take me a minute to come to my senses.”

“No worry at all. I can stay here with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I want to. By the way… the Bloodwork… was that about your Migraine?”

“Yeah,” he swallows around the lump in his throat. “And other stuff.”

“Mhm.” Some more rustling.

“How did you get those pills by the way? You don’t work in a pharmacy, right?”

“Oh, no, I don’t deal drugs if that’s what you’re asking.” You laugh, but it tapes off awkwardly. “I… I suffer from chronic pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

You laugh again, but you don’t sound amused. “Yeah, me too.”

Silence settles between them. Slowly, the pain in his head eases into something manageable and he peels himself away from the cool glass to look at you.

You’re staring at the ground, a cane in your hands. 

“I’m going to be pretty loopy for the rest of the day,” he tells you, lump in his throat, “But do you wanna grab a coffee after this?”

The surprise in your eyes tells you what he’d already assumed. You’re not used to people accepting your condition as something that just is. 

“Might ask you some questions as soon as my head works properly again,” he adds like a threat, “but for now I’d just like to look at you. You’re really pretty.”

“You’re really loopy,” you giggle.

“Mhm, it’s going to get even worse, sugardrop.” His hand finds your elbow, careful to avoid your hands and you knock your head lightly against his shoulder.

You’re probably a weird-looking couple to the outside world, but he’s never cared much about that anyway.

[atinylittlepain]

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 

“So, you do live around here then?” 

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.” 

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.” 

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.” 

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.” 

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 

[unabashedcandymaker]

Uncertain 02

Summary: Pregnancy progresses, and while your relationship stays strong in the beginning, the dynamics start as the pregnancy progresses.

Warnings: self-doubt, depression, anxiety, general not great feelings

Words: 5.6 k

Natasha x Reader x Bucky

Uncertain 01 / Uncertain Masterlist

Less than a week later, you’re in the med bay, flanked by both Natasha and Bucky, lying on your back, knees spread, waiting for the doctor to finish with the ultrasound. 

Seeing as how you were the first person to be carrying the progeny of a super soldier, the very best OBGYN in the world had been brought in just for you. A whole new wing has been added to the med bay now too. The idea had been to keep everything ‘in house’ until they had an idea of what to expect with this pregnancy.

Not that it mattered to you one way or the other. Natasha was grateful for the preparations and that there would always be someone close by if anything happens. Bucky, on the other hand, grumbled about letting the government have their hand in your very personal, very private ordeal. But, he didn’t really mind as long as you were ok with it.

You were an anxious mess regardless, trying your best to focus on the grainy image on the big screen tv that was attached to the ultrasound machine. Nat squeezes your hand, and you look up to her to see her giving you a reassuring smile. She was excited. You and Bucky were more reserved, but it did nothing to dampen her spirits. Her brilliant green eyes were shining as they moved between your face and the screen.

It was easy for you to get caught up in the moment with her. You didn’t have to force the smile on your face when you looked back too. You reach your other hand over your head in the general direction where Bucky was brooding, and was greeted with his warm hand engulfing yours, fingers interlocking, his thumb stroking your wrist.

“And here’s your baby. Let me take some measurements and we can get a more approximate idea of how far along you are,” the doctor says as she points to the peanut-shaped blob right in the middle of the screen. “Looks like you’re a little further along than we expected. I’m getting about 9 weeks. Which means that maybe, let me just see here, maybe we can…oh yeah, here we go…”

And breath is sucked out of your body when a rushed whooshing noise fills the room. You know what it is even before the doctor tells you.

“...there’s the baby’s heartbeat.”

Natasha is squeezing your hand harder, holding it to her chest, and you can feel Bucky shift behind you, releasing your hand so he can lean down to kiss your forehead. His fingers stroke your hair, never breaking contact as he looks up at the screen again.

The doctor is printing out a long line of pictures, makes a couple notes in your chart, and then is cleaning you up.

“Everything looks great. Mama and baby both look healthy and everything appears to be as expected at this stage. I don’t see anything abnormal or that would be a cause for concern. Your hormone levels look normal. I know it’s too early to say, but I don’t see anything here or in the bloodwork that would indicate this would be unlike any other normal and healthy pregnancy.

“But with that being said, I’d like to see you again in two weeks. I'd also like to repeat the bloodwork then too. Just to be on the safe side. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions or concerns. This is my personal cell phone and home number,” she says as she hands you a card that Bucky promptly takes and puts in his back pocket with a nod. “I’m on call 24/7. You are my only patient until we deliver this baby. So believe me when I tell you I am being very sincere. Please. Call me with anything. It has been a pleasure to meet all of you. I’ll give you the room and you can let yourselves out whenever you’re ready.”

And for the next few months, everything has been great. Natasha has been over the moon. Even her normally stoic demeanor when working with the team has been a little softer, a little less scary. 

Sam and Steve have been the only ones brave enough to tease her, and she only replies with a smile in kind. ‘How could I not be so happy. Look how perfect my life is.’

But when she’s in the privacy of your home, she’s a wildfire. She consumes you, every bit of you, every chance she gets. Always touching you, always seeking you out, craving your closeness.

She’s also obsessed with making sure you are eating enough and eating well, but also indulging every single craving. Bucky has fussed at her more than once for it, but it hasn’t stopped her yet. You want ice cream at 3 am, you best damn well believe that she’s already on her way to get you your ice cream. She helps you remember your vitamins and to drink plenty of water, quick to chime in with the, ‘no, my love, that has too much caffeine. Maybe I could make you this tea instead.’

She dotes on you constantly. Everyday that she’s home, she’s making your breakfast, bringing you lunch to your desk at work, sneaking in extra snacks in case you get hungry later. That part wasn’t unusual to happen before the pregnancy, but now she’s made it part of her daily routine. She’s made it her mission to spend as much time as physically possible by your side.

And you won't deny, you absolutely love it. 

And Bucky. Your poor, sweet, hopelessly overwhelmed Bucky. He hasn’t figured out what to do with himself. Right after the first doctor’s appointment, he bought a dozen different pregnancy and baby books, and threw himself full force into reading them all as quickly as possible. Every morning he greets you with a sweet kiss and a new fact he’s learned concerning the development of your baby. 

“Did you know the baby can open and close her hands?”

“The baby can sense light and soon, it’ll even be able to taste...how wild is that?!?”

He spends a majority of his time brooding just like before, but the further you progress with this pregnancy, the more relaxed and comfortable he becomes, and dare you say, he may even be getting excited. Which is refreshing as you are officially starting to experience symptoms of your pregnancy other than morning sickness. 

But when you’re in public, his attitude is wildly unpredictable. Sometimes, he’s constantly following you around, hovering over your shoulder, throwing threatening glares at anyone who might try to come too close. Other times he’s so soft and gentle, like you’re made of glass and may break if you overexert yourself. He’s always got you in his line of sight whenever physically possible. If he’s in the building, you may not be able to see him, but you better not doubt that he can see you. 

You love the predatory behavior just a little less, but you appreciate it all the same. It’s his way of showing you he cares.

In the bedroom is where you’ve noticed the biggest change. 

Bucky barely touches you. It’s almost like he’s afraid to. He’s too soft, too hesitant. And it doesn’t matter what the pregnancy books say, or how many times you try to assure him that everything is fine, that he shouldn’t handle you any differently, he only ever gives you a small smile, kisses you on the forehead. Sometimes he will pull you into a hug, and although he never says anything, you can tell he is silently dismissing the conversation. You never want to push him or make him uncomfortable, so you always let it go, chalking it up as an unpleasant side effect.

The biggest change in the relationship comes after you first start showing. It happens around the 5 month mark, just a couple days before your next ultrasound appointment. 

It’s Sunday morning and you’re all three lounging on the couch, your head in Bucky’s lap, your body lying on the length of the couch, while Natasha is laid between your legs, her cheek resting on your belly, her hand rubbing lazily along the slight swell. Everyone’s quiet and you’re even on the verge of a nap when suddenly, Nat is jumping from her spot up to her knees, hands held up in front of her, a wild look on her face. She’s starting at your belly for a long couple seconds before her eyes dart up to yours. 

“What...I...did she just...I think I felt her move…” Natasha whispers as she stares down at your belly again. 

You giggle and relax back into Bucky’s lap, reaching both your hands out for hers. She’s slow to comply, but eventually does. You take her wrists and push her hands under your shirt, her palms flat on your stomach. Your hands cover hers and you’re moving them around, trying to find the spot where you feel the baby kick the most. 

You settle and hold her hands still, just watching her face as she’s staring at your intertwined hands. Then, her eyes light up again when she feels the baby move again. 

“You feel that?” She asks in wonder. 

“All the time,” you smile, relishing in her excitement as she lowers her body back into the couch, her hands still planted firmly on the spot you put them. Her face is inches from your belly and she’s whispering something you can’t hear, but she’s delighted when she can feel the baby bump against her hands again. 

“You wanna feel?” You ask, looking up to Bucky who looks like he’s frowning from this angle. 

“Maybe later. Don’t wanna impose on her moment,” he says with the smallest smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, as he jerks his head to Natasha who is clearly having the time of her life as the baby keeps pushing up against her hand over and over again. 

Something about his reaction feels off and it’s almost unnerving, but you push it to the back of your mind as Nat starts with rapid fire questions.

‘What does it feel like?’

Like I have gas. 

‘How long have you been able to feel it?”

I don’t know, a couple weeks maybe?

‘Why didn’t you say something sooner?’

Lord, Tash, I don’t know, cause of this?

‘When is she most active?’

When I’m trying to sleep mostly. 

There’s a dozen more questions, and you answer each with what’s left of your patience as you try to close your eyes. All the while, Bucky sits above you, still as a statue, his blank expression giving nothing away as you relax into his lap again. 

At your 20 week appointment, during the anatomy scan, all three of you are surprised to find out that the baby is a boy!

All this time, you and Natasha were so sure it was a girl. It felt like a girl. The image in your head was a girl. But you’re not disappointed in the least, as the image starts shifting to a little mini version of Bucky, with deep, blue eyes and shaggy dark hair.

The image on the screen in front of you is a strong, healthy, active, and quite large baby boy. Absolutely perfect and healthy in every single way. 

“You’re measuring a few weeks ahead of gestation age, but that’s nothing to worry about just yet. Maybe start taking it a little easier at work. Might be a good time to start to lighten the load at work. Maybe also not physically exerting yourself too much. As I’ve said, nothing to worry about, you’ll be able to feel it when it’s uncomfortable. Just don’t push it,” the doctor assured. 

So with a clean bill of health, you leave the office. Bucky beaming like the proud papa he is, staring down at the new ultrasound image, but isn’t offering you much else besides a bashful smile and a sweet kiss to your temple. 

Natasha wants to celebrate. She’s insisting on throwing a party, and wants to invite everyone in the compound so she can express her excitement with everyone that means anything to her. 

You’re not sure how you manage, but you and Bucky talk her into a quiet dinner at home instead. She’s not especially thrilled about it, but she relents when you promise she can be in charge of decorating the nursery anyway she likes; total artistic freedom. 

And everything still continues to be fine. 

Your belly has started to become more noticeable every passing day. You’ve long since stopped being able to fit into your regular clothes, finally surrendering yourself to pick up a few new outfits from the maternity store. Natasha is unbelievably excited to help, throwing shirts and pants and dresses and skirts over the door of the changing room. 

It’s not long after that she sneaks into your dressing room and makes you come twice as she presses you against the wall.

And she continues to be as affectionate as she’s always been, if not even more so. 

But Bucky has just about pulled away from you completely…at least he has physically. It happened so slowly that you weren’t really sure it was happening at all until he stopped joining you and Nat in your bedtime activities almost every night. There’s always an excuse why he can’t come to bed just yet with you, opting to wait until you’re already fast asleep before crawling under the blankets and pressing himself into your back.

You know he still loves you, he shows you that everyday. He still kisses you good morning and goodnight. He occasionally drops by to intimidate all of your coworkers. He still laughs at all your stupid jokes and does all those little things he’s always done to show you he still cares. 

But he won’t touch you anymore, not like he used to. He’s careful not to touch your belly and it’s been too long since you’ve been intimate with him.

And every single day, you try to tell yourself that it’s not you, that everything’s fine, everything’s normal. This is all in your head. 

But also with every day that passes, it’s getting harder. 

All those insecurities you’d felt before you’d met Nat and Bucky, and even at the beginning of your relationship, and all your self-doubt starts to creep back in, whispering to you every single reason Bucky doesn’t want you anymore.

Every time he pulls away before you can deepen a kiss, the voices start to get a little bit louder. Every time you see his hands lingering on Natasha’s waist instead of yours, you sink a little further down. And on the several occasions you’ve walked in unexpectedly to see his dick sink deep, deep inside of her instead of you, you’re already so far gone that you can’t see the light anymore. 

Why won’t he touch you like that anymore?

Why doesn’t he hold you the way he holds her?

Does he not find you attractive anymore? 

How could he, have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?

Everyday it becomes more harrowing a task to push the repulsive thoughts away. 

Now, you agree with them. How could you not? They’re true. You have gained a lot of weight. 

Sure, the doctor says you're well within the healthy range, and it’s what is supposed to happen! This is healthy for the baby, right?

But you are unable to ignore them when you’re standing in front of the mirror, in the privacy of the guest bathroom, all by yourself. 

Suddenly, the light seems harsh and you can’t help but see everything that’s changed in the last few months. 

You aren’t sure how you let it get this far, but you’ve become so self-loathing that you can only see every extra pound you’ve gained and every horrifying, ugly stretch mark.

Your hips have widened. Your butt is bigger. Your boobs have started to swell and droop just slightly. Is one boob bigger than the other now?!? Even your face seems to be a bit chubbier. At 6 and a half months, these things were to be expected, sure, but you can’t stand it. 

Now that you see all the ways your body has changed, seeing what you believe he is seeing, you completely understand why Bucky doesn’t want to be intimate with you anymore.

So, it starts to feel almost natural that you should start shying away when Natasha tries to initiate intimacy. At first, she’s worried because you’ve never denied her before, you’ve never wanted to before, but she eventually brushes it off as a side effect of this later stage of your pregnancy. 

Your wardrobe starts changing along with your mood. All the cute maternity clothes you’d bought with Natasha six weeks ago have all been exchanged for overly large, shapeless sweaters and tee shirts; anything you can find that hides your baby belly. 

The time you used to spend cuddling on the couch, you now opt for the plush armchair across the room. Bucky furrows his brow, but doesn’t say anything. Natasha will try to persuade you to join them, making plenty of room for you to snuggle in between them, but that usually ends with you excusing yourself to the bedroom for the rest of the night. 

Then, you started changing in the bathroom where neither could see you. You started locking the door whenever you would shower, not wanting to risk them accidentally walking in and seeing you. 

They’ll be repulsed. 

And it’s not long after that that you start sleeping on the couch. Or in the guest bedroom that Natasha was slowly transitioning into the nursery. 

Both protest the first time it happened, but when you claim you’re too uncomfortable and need a little extra space, they let you do whatever you say you need to do. They both give you very disapproving glares when you snatch up your pillow and make your way out of your bedroom, but they never try to stop you.

Natasha is trying to spend all her free time with you, but you were soon finding excuses as to why you can’t anymore. You’d start staying later at your desk, claiming you had too much to do to prepare for your maternity leave, even though that would still be almost two months away.

But no matter how many times you tried to convince them otherwise, they both still insisted on going to all your doctor appointments with you. They were both still so incredibly into this baby. 

The appointments were becoming more frequent since you entered your third trimester. Instead of twice a month, you are being seen every week. And used to, the three of you would walk to the appointments together, but now, you worked right up until the last minute, meeting them in the doctor's office not a minute sooner than you had to. 

They both stand when you enter the room, each pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, or your cheek, but you’d shrug away as you’d take your place on the exam table. Natasha, as always, looked like a kid on Christmas whenever she would hear the baby’s heartbeat. Bucky is always right there, his hand on your shoulder, smiling like a proud papa.

For these brief moments, your life would feel normal again, that everything was as it should be, especially when they’d look at you the way they are right now. But, as soon as the doctor walks out, the spell is broken. 

You’re coming up on the 34th week of your pregnancy, and you absolutely can not take any of this anymore. Your hormones are wreaking havoc on your mentality. Everything makes you cry; songs on the radio, tv shows, the fucking commercials about the dogs…EVERYTHING. 

And that’s not counting the physical changes. Your body has stretched to unbelievable proportions, and you feel like you’re looking into a funhouse mirror every time you accidentally catch a glimpse of your own reflection. Everything hurts no matter your position. You’re never comfortable. The baby has gotten so big now and he thinks your bladder is his own personal trampoline, causing you to run to the bathroom every 30 minutes.

And above all else, the icing on the cake to make everything so much worse, you miss Bucky and Natasha.

You HATE yourself for how much you miss them. 

You miss the way Bucky’s eyes would crinkle when he smiles at you first thing in the morning. You miss the way Natasha’s hands always felt so soft as she would cup your face when she’d kiss you. You missed their heat as you snuggled between the two of them every night. You missed the way the three of you used to fit so perfectly together. 

You used to think that it was going to be the three of you, forever. You used to think that there would be nothing that could have separated you from each other. 

Oh, how wrong you were. Turns out that this tiny baby, weighing no more than 6 pounds at this very moment, was just big enough to set your world on fire, destroying everything you ever loved.

A tiny nudge from the inside pulled you back. And crushing guilt was added to your already depressing episode. Of course the baby was not to blame for your crumbling relationship. You had nobody to blame for that but yourself. Because you weren’t enough anymore. You were never going to be enough ever again.

Unsure of how you managed to get here, you find yourself curled up as much as your belly will allow you to in the middle of the bed, clutching Natasha’s pillow to your chest as half your face is buried in Bucky’s. You don’t hear the front door open, so you don’t bother trying to hide the fact that you are full on sobbing as you were supposed to be home alone for the rest of the day; Natasha and Bucky both supposed to be at some training exercise off site.

And you can see them almost as perfectly as if they are standing in front of you now. Natasha, clad in compression capris and a sports bra, so firm and voluptuous, no doubt commanding everyone’s attention with her graceful movements and perfect form. 

And then Bucky, so tall and broad and handsome as he broods, but executing each drill with commanding force and precision. What a beautiful pair the two of them make. 

Maybe Nat is sending Buck a flirtatious wink from across the training area. Maybe he’s giving her that playful smirk. Maybe there’s some teasing touches, some witty banter. Maybe their hands linger on the other for a second or two longer than is necessarily polite. 

And you sob harder. 

Of course this was why Bucky wouldn’t want to touch you anymore. That’s what started all of this in the first place. Your body was changing and he didn’t find you attractive anymore. And who the hell would be compared to what a knock-out Natasha is at any given moment. 

And you know from experience exactly how beautiful she is. When you have someone like her, someone with such ethereal beauty that transcends all of space and time, how could anyone ever look at someone like you the same way? You only wonder how Bucky had ever found you attractive in the first place. 

God, they are going to be so much happier once they cut you loose and get you out of their way.

You imagine their life may go back to the way it was when they were together before, all those years ago, before you came along.

It takes a moment to register that someone’s in bed with you, curling themselves around your body under the cocoon you’ve made with the duvet. Your instinct is to pull away, but strong, slender arms only hold you tighter as you’re pulled closer.

“Please,” Natasha’s voice is in your ear, broken and small. “Please, don’t push me away anymore. It’s killing me.”

You can feel a shuddering breath as she inhales and it’s more painful than you'd ever imagined, to know that she’s hurting too. That you’ve been the one hurting her. 

“Talk to me, милая девушка (sweet girl). I can’t…'' Her voice definitely breaks this time and you can feel her sobs more than hear it. “I can’t be without you any longer. Tell me what I’ve done to hurt you.”

Oh no. Does she think she’s done something wrong? How do you begin to tell her how perfect she is? How could she ever think she had hurt you?

It’s you. You’re the problem. She has to know that. 

You have to tell her the truth. It’s the only way she will finally understand what you already know. 

You tell her everything, even though it hurts, but it would continue to hurt so much more if you didn’t.

She holds you close as the words mixed with broken sobs pour from your mouth. Every insecurity that has grown into a festering wound inside of you; every dark and sinister thought that whispers its vicious poison when you’re alone, filling your mind with darkness and pain; every self-deprecating realization that your only loves deserve far better than you. 

You lay it all bare and then you wait. You wait for her to tell you it’s all true and while they might still love you, you’ll never fit into their perfect little family anymore. 

When she lets you go, you know this is the beginning of the end. You know she’s pulling away. She’s going to walk away from you, this time forever…

But no, while she does release you, it’s only to crawl over your body so she can lay face-to-face with you. Her green eyes are red-rimmed as her own tears fall freely.

“I need you to understand something. I am always going to love you. I am always going to want you, whether you weigh 100 pounds or 300 pounds or even 500 pounds. It doesn’t matter to me if you wake up tomorrow morning, having developed elephantitis and are permanently deformed for the rest of your life. 

“It doesn’t matter to me what you look like, because that’s not the part of you that I fell in love with. I fell in love with who you are on the inside, and on the inside, you are always going to be the most beautiful person I’ll ever know.

“You, my sweet, sweet girl, have always been, and always will be my greatest love,” she whispers as she cups your jaw and swipes at the steady stream of tears running down your cheek. Her hands are soft and her movements are so gentle and you’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be touched by her. 

“B-but Bucky…” you argue, but she cuts you off with a finger pressed to your lips. 

“I love him too, always, with everything in me, but it doesn’t make anything I’ve just said any less true. I’ll never have anyone else like you. There’s nobody that makes me feel the way my sweet girl does.”

She pulls you in close, carefully positioning herself against you so she’s cradling your large belly in her lap, your head under her chin. You still cry as her hand rests gently on your belly, rubbing soothingly across the taut, stretched skin. 

“I thought it was me,” she admits after you’ve finally started to calm down. “I thought...I thought you were going to leave. When you started pulling away from me, I thought I was going to lose you because I wasn’t enough anymore. 

“And then, if you left, it would only have been a matter of time before Bucky would leave, too. He’d follow you anywhere. You’re the mother of his child, how could he not? And what am I compared to you? What can I give him? There’s no future with me if you’re not here.”

It was your turn to hold her as she cried. It took some serious wiggling, but you managed to pull her into your chest, cradling her, comforting her. Her tears came hard and fast, staining the front of your shirt. 

“You’re my forever, Tasha. I wouldn’t...I couldn’t live without you. And I’m so sorry that I did this to us. I...I...I don’t know how to fix it,” you whispered into her hair, stroking the sweat dampened locks with one hand as the other held her close. 

“There’s nothing to fix, sweet girl,” she said with a sniffle, pulling back to look up at you. “I’m yours, мое сердце (my heart). I’ve always been yours.”

“But what about Bucky?” You whisper, willing yourself not to cry again as you think about the other half of your heartache. 

“It’s not what you think. I don’t know what’s up, but I know him and it can’t be what you’re thinking. He adores you. I know you can’t see it, but he still looks at you like you hung the moon. You’ll need to sit down with him and talk about it. We have spent too long tiptoeing around each other and look what it’s done to us,” she says as she scoots up so you're lying nose to nose. 

“And come back to bed. Please. I can’t stand to spend another night away from you. I don’t know if I can suffer through broody Bucky on my own anymore.”

“He can’t have been that bad,” you say with a small chuckle, curling a strand of red hair behind her ear. 

“You have no idea how insufferable he’s been without you,” she assures with a warm smile. 

“Speaking of, where is he? No...wait...what are you doing here? Both of you are supposed to be at…”

“At the thing, yeah, no, I couldn’t stand to be there a second longer knowing that you were here all alone.”

“Won’t Steve be upset you left?”

“Nah. But hey, even if he was, what is he gonna do? Kick me off the team?” She says with a scoff and a wink. “Besides, it was mostly for the incoming agents. We were there just as a morale booster.”

“But Bucky stayed?” You ask in a whisper. 

“I-“

“No, he didn’t,” comes a deep voice from the doorway. Your head whips around, your body following sluggishly after, to see Bucky standing in the doorway, arms crossed, and brow furrowed. 

“How long have you been here?” You asked as you struggled to push yourself up off the bed, to move anywhere else, feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed in this position. 

But Nat’s arms hold you in place, keeping you on your side, as Bucky walked over, kicked off his shoes, and laid down next to you. 

“Long enough. Nat beat me here by a few minutes. I would have been here sooner if she would have waited for me to get in the car…” He’s smiling playfully, but his eyes are shining, wide, unblinking, and a little pained. “I waited in the hall, figured I’d give you two a few minutes…”

The silence stretches as you stare at him. There’s so many things you want to say, but you can’t seem to make yourself speak. You need to tell him how you feel. You need to tell him…

“I’m sorry,” he says, cutting you off before you can even get your mouth to open. “I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I’ve done this to you; I’ve done this to all of us, and I’m so, so sorry. But it’s not what you think. Not that there’s an excuse, but I never imagined it would have led to this; that you’d think I wasn’t attracted to you anymore…that I didn’t want you.”

You’re blinking away tears when they start springing back up. His hand reaches out slowly, pausing just inches from your face, giving you the opportunity to pull away. And when you don’t, his hand falls to your hair, pushing the tangled mess back away from your face. The touch is so tender that you can’t fight the tears from falling anymore. 

You’ve closed yourself off from them for so long that you’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be loved by them. 

“It was me,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “I’m not...I won’t be...I’d die if I ever hurt you, or him. It’s all I can see every time I close my eyes. It haunts my dreams. And, ok, I’ll admit, I did pull back some, but you just seemed much more delicate than before. There’s a brand new little person growing inside you. And if I hurt you…or him..I couldn’t…”

His voice breaks and he’s blinking away his own tears. You know how he feels. It’s the same self-loathing you’ve been dealing with for the past few months. 

What a mess this has turned into. All three of you have been suffering through the same exact thing, feeling inept compared to each other, and instead of anyone talking about how they feel, you’ve been keeping it bottled up until it’s reached this breaking point. 

“What a trio we make, huh?” You whisper, reaching out and placing a hand on Bucky’s bicep. You’re giving him a watery smile which he returns as Natasha is hugging you from behind. 

“Maybe this would be a good time to suggest we go back to therapy…together…” Natasha piped up as she shifted upwards again, curling around you so she, too, could reach Bucky. 

“S’ not a bad idea,” you agree. “It helped before. Could be good to go in for another refresher before the baby gets here.”

Bucky sighs and nods. 

“I’ve missed you,” you breathe as you feel the both of them snuggle into you. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

And for the first time in months, with both of your loves snuggled in close, you feel whole and loved and complete. 

Chapter 03-Final Chapter

[femcelbassmentdweller]

Overview of My First Year of HRT (2021-2022)

Hi, my name is Sylvie, and I'm transfemme! I started hormone replacement therapy on September 25th, 2021 and I've been through quite a lot on my journey to a year of HRT so I'm making two separate posts: this one focusing on the medical side and physical changes, and another that will focus on the social side of transitioning. So, here we go!

I realized I was trans the last week of August 2021, then September 9th I came out publicly, September 15th I had my first appointment with Plume, and I received my first Estradiol script September 24th, but consider my official "first day" of HRT the 25th.

I started HRT on sublingual Estradiol pills, 2mg twice a day (morning and night). Psychologically, taking the first pill hit me like a psychosomatic lightning bolt, and the first meaningful change estrogen granted me was an opening of my feelings- I could suddenly experience a "true range" of emotion, I experienced ambivalence for the first time. Physically, within the first week, I was experiencing tingling in my chest/nipples and by three weeks they actively ached, and after about two months my nipples looked different (darker, larger), and my chest started to stick out (36" to 37")

At 2 months my Estradiol was increased to three times a day and Progesterone 100mg (at night) added. By two months, my body's sensitivity had reached astronomical levels, particularly in areas that weren't sensitive before: for me, this was my nipples, armpits, and butt. My skin overall became more sensitive, slight touches made me quiver and my pain tolerance dropped sharply. During my second month my body's smell changed too and my sweat production cut back.

At 3 months, Spironolactone 50mg once a day (morning) was added and during this month my nipples had noticeably expanded and become dark enough to see through shirts, and my chest had grown enough to be noticeable small mounds in a tight shirt (38"). Also by 3 months, random erections completely stopped happening, whether asleep or awake.

Between months 3 and 5 a lot of things happened in my life; the stress and inactivity caused me to lose 50 lbs. As a result, I lost a ton of muscle mass. My thighs, upper arms, and butt became soft and jiggly, I could not lift things I could before, even with great effort.

3 month bloodwork results: E @ 133 and T @ 320

At 4 months, I asked my doctor for Finasteride, which is a DHT blocker- DHT is an androgen created by testosterone and an excess of DHT is related to hair loss, as well as some research I read back then relating to DHT and thicker/darker body hair. Since starting Finasteride, I have only shaved and used Nair on my body itself and I have experienced 75%-80% body hair loss, and much of what hair remains is now vellus hair (light, short, soft).

Between months 4 and 5, I started experiencing sexual dysfunction. Even if aroused, it was a 50/50 shot of whether I could get hard or not. Likewise, I began producing much less semen. This was when I started experimenting with different forms of masturbating too (i.e. using a vibrator).

Between months 5 and 6 I started gaining weight again, and this was when my breast growth was the greatest, going from 38" to almost 41". However, in the growth it seems I lost the sensitivity I had in the early months- my nipples and armpits are still erogenous zones, but not as potent. Additionally, I noticed fat redistribution caused my hips and waist to take a more stereotypically feminine, almost hourglass appearance (and increased from 32" and 34" respectively to 35" and 38" by 10 months).

6 month bloodwork results: E @ 258 and T @ 22

Months 7, 8, and 9 saw only slight breast growth (41 1/2") due to losing weight again from stress, but at this point I have very little body hair left, and even areas which were full before (armpits, groin) thinned out significantly over time- the most astounding of all being my butt, which the cheek hair just disappeared without me doing anything, like the hair just fell off.

Somewhere during months 8 and 9, I completely lost the ability to become erect without medication (doctor prescribed me Sildenafil, aka viagra) and no more ejaculating. Reaching orgasm became a concentrated effort instead of something that came easily, and very little clear liquid would come out during.

9 month bloodwork results: E @ 57 and T @ 28

For some reason my levels dropped between 6 and 9 months, and during that time I became very mentally and emotionally unwell due to the hormone imbalances. My doctor suggested a few things: me not waiting/letting the pill dissolve long enough in my mouth or the pill just not having the same potency on me anymore. So...

At month 10 I started injections and almost immediately started feeling much better. There is a hormonal low day for me every week, the day before I do my injection again, but it's not hard to deal with. I feel like myself!

Now months 11 and 12, nothing really noteworthy to update except I'm desperately trying to eat more so I can gain weight to grow my boobs. Just stopped taking Spiro though, but I use Tgel to maintain my girldick because I'm a Switch.

Lastly, I'd like to say I'm open to any questions anyone might have, and I'll do my best to answer them. You can DM me, email me secretly from a fake account (bellatrixnovus@gmail.com is my email), whatever! I just hope this information is of some value to someone out there!

[seokmattchuus]

Stray Kids Reaction to you fainting

A/n: This is angstier than intended but I didn't know how else to make it? Anyways, I'm not entirely proud of this so if it sucks, don't point it out. p.s.idon'trememberifiproofread

- Requested -

Chan: Gets over the initial shock fairly quickly, the natural leader in him quick to work out what needs to be done in order to get you to the hospital with little to no one finding out. When the doctor informs him that it's due low blood sugar, he couldn't keep the disappointment from coming out once you woke up. He couldn't figure out why you wanted to put yourself through something like this, and he couldn't hold back.

"And for what?" He asked, his voice lacking emotion. "For what others have to say? The press?" He scoffed, his fear coming out as anger. "Do my feelings not matter? What if something worse happened?"

Minho: He couldn't wait for your special stage. He helped you practice ever since you got the song, knowing how perfected you wanted it to be. Not once did it seem like you were pushing your limits, so when he saw your slowing down, he quickly headed to the side of the stage, ready to run out and get you if he needed to. Just when he thought you pulled through, the second you made it backstage, your legs gave out.

"Hey, hey," He says sternly, supporting your neck while fanning you. "Y/n, c'mon." The panic in his voice grew as he called out to staff. "Can we get some water, please?!"

Changbin: He insisted on accompanying you to go do bloodwork. He was free, and he knew how long those appointments lasted, so he didn't want you to be bored. He was lucky he chose to as the second you looked down to see the blood flowing, you went limp.

"'I'll be fine' you said. 'Who passes out from blood' you said." He mocked half-heartedly, the seriousness passing now that you're awake. "Guess I'm coming to the next appointment."

Hyunjin: You had pranked him by doing this before, so he didn't believe you when you fell to your side on the couch. He continued making your lunch and waiting until he was finished to acknowledge that it happened. Gradually freaks out while trying to figure out what to do.

"Okay, you got me," He put his hands up sarcastically, his heartbeat picking up as you still hadn't gotten up. "Y/n, it's not funny." He said as he knelt down by you, trying to wake you up.

Jisung: He knew you needed your vitamin D supplements, but you insisted you would be fine for a few days while you helped them on set of their new show. That didn't stop him from worrying, though. He refused to take his focus off of you, and it worked out for you when you stood up to call for a break, just to fall right back down into the chair, your head lulling back before you held it up again.

"Y/n!" He yelled as he dropped what he was doing to run towards you, the staff beating him to it. "Is there anything I can do?"

Felix: He knew you were nervous. He could hear your foot tapping against the floor and the way your chest rose too much. You were taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself on your own. You were trying to keep it from him, and he didn't want to call you out, knowing it would make you feel worse. He doesn't act on it until he sees you fighting to keep up right, and eventually failing, his arms wrapping around to catch you, and slowly lay you on his lap.

"No," You breathed out when you felt his hold slip away.

"I'm not leaving, I promise." He said, his voice calm and steady as he gave you a reassuring squeeze. "I'm right here, okay? Just focus on getting your breath back."

Seungmin: He knew you were stressed about school. The bags under your eyes, the untouched bed from when you last made it, the growing empty Starbucks cups under your computer desk, and the lack of groceries in your fridge. He decided to cook for you, hoping it would help you feel less stressed, but the second you got up, he saw your eyes roll back and bolted to your side.

"Do you need anything?" He asked worriedly as he helped you sit up. "Just wait here, let me get you some water."

Jeongin: He told you this would happen, but of course you were stubborn. He knew how hot it got backstage and he also knew you hadn't had much to eat since you wanted to eat after the concert. He turned to give you a kiss for good luck when he saw the loss of focus in your eyes. He freezes in panic, never having been in charge of something so serious, quickly calling for anyone to help.

"I-I told her eat something." He mentally kicked himself as he watched Changbin pick you up and carry you to a room that had fans. "She'll be okay, right?"

[ashintheairlikesnow]

🦷 for…literally anyone. Go crazy with this

CW: BBU, some mouth whumpiness although the whump is emotional, medical whump

"Okay, here we go. Now, I'm going to insert this into your mouth, and you're going to bite down, as evenly as you can, and hold it until I say. Got it?"

Oskar looks at the little plastic tray in Arvid's hand as though the spongy, grayish thing inside of it is something alive that might bite him at any second. "Why?"

"I want to make a mold of your teeth."

Oskar shifts rapidly backwards in the exam chair in Arvid's 'medical room', also known as the half of his basement space he doesn't sleep in. One wrist brushes against the open leather buckles that can be used to restrain patients and he flinches violently away from it, face going suddenly white except for two red spots in his cheeks. "But-"

Arvid closes his eyes, taking a breath. "Oskar. Just do it."

Oskar shakes his head, curling his knees up to his chest and sliding his arms around his legs. His mouth opens and closes a few times on a word that never seems to quite make its way out. "I-... I don't want to," He whispers, hiding the bottom half of his face behind his knees, only his dark eyes showing, staring, hurt, at Arvid. "I don't want to do that. Please, Arvid, I-I don't, I don't want to-"

"Oskar," Arvid says, keeping his voice calm only with difficulty. This is irritating. "

Oskar's eyes drop and he stares down at the stirrups that hang off the end on long metal poles, where patients can slide their feet and hold their legs open. If possible, he blanches even further, and Arvid fights down his annoyance at the delay. "I have Samael coming in in like half an hour for bloodwork, we need to get this done before she gets here."

Oskar curls himself up even more tightly, closing his eyes and giving his head one more weak shake. "Please," He whispers. "I don't want to."

"Oskar. It is just to get a teeth mold! This is completely normal!" He thinks. Actually, Arvid doesn't have much of a comparison for normal, but it's normal for the work he does, anyway. He has molds of the mouths of all of the archangels and most of the other employees of the organization, too. He has molds of his own teeth, damn it. "I'm tired of you wasting my time with this, so just... fucking do as I say. You're my pet, aren't you?"

Oskar's breaths are coming shallowly, and he doesn't open his eyes. "Yes," He whispers. "I am." One of his hands moves to touch the collar around his neck, as if reminding himself. "I, I am yours."

"Right. So just. So just do the thing, so we can get it done and I can go back to doing my actual job before Samael shows up and wonders why nothing's ready for her..." He trails off as he hears a strange noise, like a clicking, and tilts his head. His eyes trail downward, until he realizes... it's the chair rattling in place.

Oskar is shaking so hard the exam chair is shaking, too.

"... hey." Arvid looks down at the molding clay in the dental tray - it'll dry out and be more or less useless if this takes much longer - and then, with a sigh, he sets it back down on the little metal rolling table and reaches out, putting one hand on either side of Oskar's face. "Talk to me. What's wrong with this? The tray, the... the chair? Is that it?"

Oskar hesitates, then opens his eyes again, looking up at Arvid without raising his chin. "... both."

"Okay... uh. What the fuck is wrong with them?" The chair is... just a chair. Arvid had gotten it at an insanely low price some years back during a private estate sale he decided not to look too closely into - but Oskar is clearly terrified of the damn thing. He's not even restrained - Arvid only uses those when one of the archangels is violent or hallucinating.

"Clinic c-chair." Oskar's teeth click together from his trembling. His eyes are glimmering in the lights with tears that haven't fallen yet. "The, the mold for a-... a gag, I don't... I don't want to have a gag here, Arvid. I don't-... I don't want to-"

"What? It's-... it's not for a gag."

Oskar swallows hard, licking at his lips. "It's... not?"

"No... no. Jesus Christ, Oskar, it's for if you get hurt and lose a tooth or something, so we can get you a good screw-in tooth and shit. I was thinking the other day about how you've ended up going out on fieldwork with me twice, plus you've been climbing the tree in the yard, and just in case, we should have shit ready to go for your records. That's all."

Oskar glances sidelong at the little plastic tray, then back at him. His lips press into a thin line, the skin paling at the pressure, before he tries to talk again. "I don't... want anything in m-my mouth, Arvid. Please-... I, I can't. Please, please don't make me. Please."

Arvid inhales. He knows if he checks his phone that time is running out, Samael's going to walk in any fucking second. "Oskar. We are going to do this and we are going to do this now. Open your fucking mouth. I am ordering you, as your owner, to open your mouth."

The look of open, honest pain and fear on Oskar's face sends a twist of some strange unpleasant chill through Arvid's chest, but he at least slowly nods and - jaw trembling - opens his mouth wide for Arvid to slide in the tray, then bites gently down. Sounds come, unbidden, from his throat - muffled whines that he doesn't even seem fully conscious of. Arvid can all but see his pulse racing in the spot just under his jaw. His eyes lock on Arvid's face and stay there.

"Good boy," Arvid soothes. Usually praise is a one-way ticket to fixing Oskar's bad moods, but this time it just seems to bounce right off him. The tears finally fall, running in clear trails over his cheekbones. Arvid wipes them away with his thumb and Oskar flinches, minutely, never quite pulling away. "It's all right. It's all right. Just a few more seconds..."

He takes the little handle on the tray, murmurs for Oskar to open carefully and slowly, and pulls it out to set it aside and get the next one ready for the bottom teeth. Oskar's trembling never stops, the chair rattling lightly, the pet's fingers dug into the padding until his knuckles are pure white.

Arvid finishes the second tray, and as soon as he removes it and says a soft all done, you were very good, Oskar uncurls, bolts off the chair, and races past the curtain that separates the two halves of Arvid's life. His feet slap on the concrete floor and Arvid watches him go, sighing.

He hears Oskar climb into the bed, the gentle squeak of the springs in the mattress as he buries himself under blankets and probably curls right back up into the little ball likes that. Muffled sobs are just barely audible, and Arvid's teeth itch to go ask him to stop that shit, it's annoying and he has shit to do today, he can't waste his time comforting Oskar's every fear.

But... he caused the fear.

Arvid hesitates, feeling that strange unpleasant twist again.

It's guilt.

He inhales, looking over at the curtain. "Oskar..." He trails off. He should just... go over there and apologize, hold him for a while, let him talk about it or something. It'd be the kind thing to do, and Oskar is the best thing he has in his life these days.

There's a harsh, loud sniff. "Yes?" Oskar's voice is thick and heavy with his tears.

"Listen, I just-" The door to the basement opens and Samael, a woman who seems created entirely in shades of black and slightly less black, steps inside. Arvid swallows the rest of his sentence.

The sounds of Oskar's fear stop - muffled even more thoroughly as he must hear Samael enter, too.

"Am I early?" Sam asks, eyebrows raising. The piercing in one glints in the flat white light of the exam side of the room. "Where's your little creature, isn't he around you all the time these days?"

"He's... busy," Arvid says. "Just give me a second to get the vials ready for you."

"Busy? Doing what?" Sam hops up onto the exam table, even swinging her legs a little. She's maybe five foot three on a good day, but Arvid knows damn well she can snap necks with her thighs alone and is one of the best in the business. "What do pets even do?"

Arvid ignores her. He walks over to peek around the curtain, faintly smiling as he sees the very Oskar-shaped lump on the bed, a hint of his hair showing on the pillow.

"We'll talk about it later," He says, pitching his voice low. "Okay?"

There's a rustle as Oskar shifts around under the blankets he's hidden himself in. He peeks out, just a bit of hair and pale forehead and huge eyes. "Yes, sir," He says, voice weak.

Arvid sighs. Oh, good. He's sir again. Great.

Sometimes, this shit is harder than he thought it would be.

[lilkumquat27]

Another snippet! But this time of my Ten Years Later AU when the crew mysteriously return after ten years. Caz is at this moment being question by Commander Brantley after they Beira is seized upon by military and they’re brought back to base. This is from Chapter 2: Lost in Confessions

"I need to see my wife… my girls. I…” Caz staggered his words and started to pull at the handcuffs.


“No… Cameron – “


“I canny be here! I need to go. My family… I… if what you say is true, they’ll be well moved on by now! My girls will be… fuckin’ teenagers! My wife… god’s sake, Suze. I can’t have her thinking I’m deid! I’m not! I need to go hame!”


Brantley stood off his chair and leaned over the table, “Cameron, you need to calm down. I don’t want to have the nurse come in with a sedative again. I can understand your shock, but you need to take it one minute at a time, right?”


“Understand? You don’t fucking understand. I don’t even understand! What the fuck is happenin? You saying I’ve been gone for ten fucking years? How… how is that possible? I woke up this morning on the oil rig I’ve been at for four months! This has to be some kind of fucking conspiracy. Aye, this isn’t real!”


“I showed you the newsletters. I’ve used every available resource within the base to prove to you it is 1985. If you still don’t believe me there’s not much I can do to prove it.”


“Let me go to my girls! If what you say is true they’ll be grown now. My wife will be forty four. Surely things out there have changed. You want me to believe it, then let me go!”


“You know I can’t do that, Cameron. You’ll see your family again soon. First, we need to figure out what happened on that rig. How you’ve come back. We’re gonna need to run some tests, I’m sorry. It won’t be just you, everyone on the Beira will need to go through the same process. We need to ensure it’s safe for you all to return home.”


“Tests? What kind of tests?”


“Bloodwork, scans, check ups, we just need to make sure everything is alright with you all.”


Caz stuttered and his glare went vacant, “You… you think this was something bad? Like… like the Bermuda Triangle or some shit? You know, ships and planes go missing without a trace? You think… maybe aliens or something?”


Brantley had a hearty scoff and shook his head. Caz battled, “Well, I don’t fucking know, mate! You’re the one who should have the answers!”


“It’s easy to take flight of fancy, I get it. You need an explanation, and we do, too. For now, let’s just stick with the facts. That sector of the North Sea had been vacant a day ago. Then not even a second after midnight our alarms start blaring. We see that an unauthorized ship has entered the UK’s coast. Upon further investigation we realize it’s not even a ship, at all. It’s a damn oil rig that seemed to materialize out of the white. By materialize, I mean within moments, Cameron. This could be something otherworldly, it could not. My experience, there’s always a logical explanation. Even if it’s buried underneath mounds of nonsense. Could be your rig was seized upon by terrorist motives and they put you back there.”


“You still think I’m lying to you?!”


“Maybe they did something to your memories.”


“Jesus Christ. That’s your logical explanation? Take a look at Rennick. Cunt should be 68 if it’s been ten years. Pretty spritely for a seventy year old, don’t you think? I should be forty-five, but gotta say, mate, still feel like not a day over thirty six. We haven’t aged! What has the ability to just stop time like that? And just regarding the Beira?! You think that’s not otherworldly? This whole thing is fucked!”


Brantley interrupted sternly, “That’s why we’ll be running the tests. Not just to confirm your ages, but to confirm blood types, health concerns, toxin history, all that jazz. I’m not going to address anything supernatural until we have that information from all of you and decide accordingly. Until then, you gotta stay here. No contact to the outside world until we have the information we need, right?”

[iplaywithstring]

Part of chronic illness that healthy, able bodied people really can't grasp is the tenuous relationship we have with medical professionals.

My current Dr is wonderful. Lovely woman. Very open, has never had any push back over any concern I've brought up. We met when I was teaching a knitting class. I feel comfortable with her, both personally and as a doctor.

I still have a ton of anxiety every time I make an appointment.

I worry that it's something serious. I worry it's something minor and I'm wasting her time. I worry that she's going to brush me off - even though she never has.

Today, I had a sebaceous cyst drained - I was pretty sure that's what it was when I went in, but she confirmed it and offered to drain it an no big deal. I felt so awkward getting it taken care of. She also warned me it would be a little painful - didn't hurt at all. I updated her on my frozen shoulder (it's improved so much! Almost full range of motion and very little pain!). Told her my mom had been diagnosed with celiacs - she offered to run my tests again (it's been 10 years) but expected they'd be inconclusive/negative again as I've been avoiding wheat for over a decade at this point, but I needed my yearly bloodwork done anyway so why not (and she reminded me a negative test doesn't mean I don't have it, just that they can't detect it, and it's not worth it to go back on wheat to confirm at this point). I asked about a repeat ultrasound of a cyst on my ovary (it was 3.6 cm in 2018 and I've been having pain in that area again) and she agreed it was a good idea to take a look at.

There was nothing negative in the appointment at all, and I still feel like I want to cry about it.

And I understand everyone has a certain amount of medical anxiety - I remember what it was like before I was sick - but this is different. So much of my quality of life and my day-to-day functioning is dependant on this woman. What if she thinks I don't need one of my medications anymore? What if she disagrees about my level of pain and sees no need for pain management or further testing (like the ultrasound)?

My relationship with my body is messed up - in some ways I am too aware of things, and in other ways, I don't notice/acknowledge problems because it's just always been like that. If she hadn't believed me about my wrists aching I wouldn't know about my hypermobility in my hands. If she didn't take my word for it how drained and worn out I am, I wouldn't have meds that allow me to function with ME/CFS (stimulants in the past, cymbalta currently). I didn't realize how bad my pain was until it was managed better. I never know day to day what I am going to be capable of or how limited I will be.

I have had Drs in the past who did not take me seriously. I lived with debilitating pain for years because a Dr took a clear MRI as "no signs of endometriosis". I've been dismissed as fat and lazy and accused of drug seeking (when I was specifically asking about pain management that did not include opioids). I am so thankful I was able to access a new doctor - not everyone has that opportunity!

but even with these ideal circumstances, it's still hard, and exhausting, and emotional. and that's something that most people in my life will just not understand.

[vaspider]

Hello friends!

Mila had her most recent vet appointment this past week, which was just bloodwork, and I have incredible news:

Her bloodwork right now looks like the bloodwork of a completely healthy dog. Not only are there not presently any "free-floating cancer cells" in her blood, as there was before her first vet appointment, but her CBC (Complete Blood Count) looks like that of a healthy dog.

For now, anyway. We know it's temporary, but she looks really, really good right now.

Her left eye, which was sunken in because she had a lymph node pressing on the nerve, looks almost entirely normal. We can't actually feel the lymph nodes in her neck at all. She's started dancing for her dinner again.

We've had to institute First Dinner and Second Dinner, and she also has breakfast AND lunch right now, because she's just hungry ALL THE TIME. This is a factor of the steroids, of course, but we indulge her because she needs to put some weight back on, and she's doing just that -- in the past two weeks, she's put on a pound and a half, which pushes her back above 60 lbs. Luckily, she's been able to go back to her regular food rather than the extremely expensive soft food, but she also gets fresh veggies, the occasional half of a dried fig (which she loves because they are so chewy and sweet, but which she can't have very much of because they are so very sugary), and ham, because it's the cheapest lunch meat and our dog doesn't have to keep kosher -- she just has to eat more protein and get more pounds back on. HaShem wants me to take care of my dog. :P

Her fur is shiny again, we can barely feel her ribs when petting her -- like, we can feel her ribs in a normal, 'there are bones under there somewhere' fashion, not in a 'oh no, she's lost so much weight' way. She's been play-bowing at Cap again, and seeking out me, and Cat, and Evie for love, and not just Emet.

We know this is just temporary. We know we'll be lucky to still have her around come 2024. But for right now, we can enjoy the beautiful fall weather with a happy girl who was very content to sit out on the porch last night, watching the neighborhood with Emet and me while I pitted plums to make more jam from the wild abundance of our neighbor's plum tree.

We have enough on hand right now for one more treatment, which will happen October 3rd, and final expenses. (I keep making sure we have enough to cover her final expenses so that she doesn't have to suffer because we can't afford to make her suffering stop.) I'll shake the virtual can again when we need it -- right now I just want you to see what your help has given us.

Today it's 72 degrees and sunny, and Mila has spent most of her day snoozing on Emet's lap in the basement.

What more can you ask of life than that?

We would not have had this day without you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

A while back, you had a link to a site that helped you find good vets in your area that could do reptile care. I've been trying to search your blog but cannot for the life of me find it again. Can you provide the link again? I've recently moved and I'd like to get a good vet for my ball python.

Here you go! This is a link to a search for ARAV vets, the Association of Reptile and Amphibian Veterinarians. ARAV vets are required to denomstrate knowledge in treating herps and take part in continuing education, so they're always my first choice when looking for vets in any area in the US.

Good luck with finding a new vet!! At your first visit, be sure to look for how comfortable the vet and their techs are with handling snakes; vets who seem uncomfortable or hesitant with handling snakes are a huge red flag. Be sure to ask if they can do any testing for common snake ailments like nidoviruses and, if they can't do tests in house (not all vets will be able to), they have labs they can send bloodwork and other samples to.

[britswriting]

Odd One Out! | Quadruple The Love H.S

Quadruple The Love Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

Take your quadruplet gender guesses now before reading!

"Babe, your leg is shaking" Harry hummed, placing his hand on my knee, our skin contact making a warmth spread across my body.

"Sorry. I'm just nervous" I confessed, being mindful about my physical signs of my over- flowering anxiety.

Every hospital appointment I'm convinced I'm going to send Harry's blood pressure through the roof due to my outrageous anxiety. I couldn't help but be a bundle of nerves as far as three to four days leading up to our hospital appointments; the physical reactions only getting worse the closer we got.

I was petrified that something was going to go wrong. That one of the babies wasn't gong to be okay, or that I was doing something wrong. 

Due to being a high risk pregnancy, It feels like I've been living at the hospital the past few months. Countless tests, exams and fetal monitoring made me feel like A: Something was wrong with me. B: Something was wrong with my babies or C: I was some sort of science experiment.

"Y/N Styles?" I heard Harry offering me his hands, allowing me to grasp them so he could help me up out of the chair.

Harry offered me a comforting soft smile whilst I got my weight checked, refusing to look at whatever offensive number it was going to read.

You're carrying four babies Y/N, you're going to gain a lot of weight. I have to remind myself, Harry's hand lacing between mine as we walked down the hospital room corridor.

"Do you want to do the blood work test to learn the sexes of the babies?" The nurse asked, my eyes widening as I looked over at Harry; his expression mirroring my own.

"Up to you baby, I'm fine either way" Harry said, his thumb offering a comforting rub against my knuckles.

Do I want to know the sexes?

"How uh, how does that work? — With multiples, I mean" I asked, all new kinds of nerves creeping up on the back of my neck.

"Well, we'd be looking for a Y chromosome. Female DNA is an X chromosome, so if a Y shows up in the bloodwork, that tells us you're pregnant with a boy. If a Y doesn't show up, we'd make the assumption all the babies are female. Now, for multiples.. it would really only tell us that at least one of them are boys. We can look and see if we can find out through ultrasound but with there being so many, I have no promises of us learning today" He explained and I nodded slowly, chewing a hole into my lip as my hands were folded against my stomach.  

"Can I think about it?" I quietly asked, the nurse nodding.

We went through the routine questions before he left and an ultrasound technician came in, offering a happy smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Styles. Happy to see you again" glanced between Harry and I before turning on the machine and grabbing the gel. "We're just going to be checking that everything is going smoothly. Pretty routine at this point" She stated, myself nodding as I braced for the cold liquid to touch my warm skin.

Once again, our eyes were locked on the screen that displayed each one of our baby's, one by one as the heartbeats played through the speakers.

"They're got some strong heartbeats" She smiled, pride smothering me.

"You're already raising such strong kids, my love. Knew you'd be a wonderful mother" Harry's warm lips pressed against my temple, offering another form of comfort to me.

"Baby A had ten toes" She announced, my head jerking away from Harry back to the screen, watching her count their little fingers. "Appears 10 fingers. Their hand is in a little fist" She giggled, my hand so desperately wanting to reach towards the screen and brush their delicate little fingers.

Staring at your baby and not being able to touch it felt like a cruel punishment.

"Do you want me to look for a gender and tell you?" She asked, turning the screen back towards her.

Do I?

I looked back over at Harry who always seemed to get lost in his own little world at these appointments.

"Do we want to know?" I asked, my hand wrapping around his forearm, gaining his attention.

Harry looked down at me, his eyes glistening under the low light, showing me they were full of tears as his soft smile made his dimply just barely pop.

I watched him swallow before speaking up, "Up to you, love"

I sighed.

Fuck it.

"Can uh, you just write them down if you can see, and we can decide later?"

The silence was excruciating. The second I saw her pick up a pen, my heart started racing.

Oh my god

I looked back at Harry, a tear rolling down his cheek, melting and breaking my heart all at the same time.

"Babe, why are you crying? I thought I was the hormonal one" I joked, the tips of my fingers brushing against his calloused fingertips. 

"I'm sorry-" he started, my words quickly interrupting him.

"You don't have to apologize for being emotional, baby"

"I know, I know" He sighed, "I'm just.. embarrassed, I guessed" he bashfully admitted, his hand wiping away the evidence of his hardened exterior cracking. "I can't help but feel these emotions overwhelm me" He started before going radio silent, igniting a wildfire of worry through my chest.

Was he regretting this? Did he not want four babies? I mean, who wants four babies at once..

"Can you let me into your head, please?" I asked softly, no longer focusing on the ultrasound tech, Harry nodding.

"I um, just looking at that screen.. seeing their little bodies on the screen and knowing they're inside of your stomach is just... getting to me I guess. I can't help but think about all those times we stayed at the negative pregnancy tests, and now here we are, with not just one, but four babies. I'm fucking terrified for the late night feeds and trying to potty train them all; but I'm so fucking excited too. I mean, you were told you couldn't have kids, Y/N. That shattered your entire world, and now... now we have four healthy babies. Four of them Y/N"

"Not to interrupt, but I know two of the genders. I couldn't see the other two. The positionings were awkward and one of their legs was squeezed shut. I have them on this piece of paper what baby C and D are" 

"You know?" Harry asked, the tech nodding. "Babe, someone on this earth knows what we're about to be parents to" Harry looked over at me, his face unreadable.

"If you want to know, you can. You just can't tell me" I chuckle, Harry's lips rolling in thought.

"Baby, you know I suck at keeping secrets!" He groaned, "I'm going to want to start buying things immediately"

"Well, I mean, we're having four babies. What's the chance of them all being girls or boys?" I noted, thinking we got a 50/50 shot of at least one of them being different sex from the other. "We could do a cute sex reveal?" I suggested, "Nothing big. Maybe like.. the balloons in a box in our house or like the cupcake ones? Then we could find out together" 

With the envelope and scans in hand (Including the gender reveal scans in the envelope) Harry and I left the Hospital, fingers intertwined and smiles on our face the entire drive home.

"I can't believe our future is sitting in the envelope and it's just sitting on the counter" Harry huffed, his eyes locked on it.

"Do you want to just look at it?" I asked, twisting off the cap of my water bottle. "We both suck at keeping secrets, so if we look at it, you know we're going to want to tell everyone" I reminded; Harry groaning, his head tossed back like a defiant child.

"I think I want to find out just with you, and then we can tell our family in a different way?" He said, his hand reaching for the envelope.

"So you're looking?"

"I— I don't know. Should I?"

"Well there is no going back"

"God, I hate this! What if these four are our last four, and we don't get to do a different route?"

"You mean to tell me you want a fifth kid?" I replied in disbelief, unsure if I even wanted a fifth kid after this. I mean, we literally climbed Mount Everest for the first one.

"I don't know, Y/N. I  don't want to decide to look at the envelope and then regret not doing the cupcake thing; or not having the ultrasound tech tell us. I just don't want to regret how I choose to find out since I have a choice"

"We could always wait to find out?" I reminded him, Harry immediately shaking his head, making me giggle. "What? Don't like that idea?"

"Baby, we can't name four babies if we don't know their sex"

"You just pick out four of each, babe" I laugh, moving towards him to rest my forearms against his shoulders, my fingers intertwined at the base of his neck, Harry's thighs opening so I could stand between his legs.

"Do you want to wait?" He asked softly, his hands resting on my ass.

"I want to do the cupcake thing, where you bite into it and it has pink or blue frosting" I chewed my lower lip, feeling Harry's hands move from my ass, to my hips, to my stomach before softly caressing my stomach through my shirt.

"Then let's find a bakery"

* * * * 

Harry and I stared at the white cupcakes with white frosting sitting in a white bakery box, Harry's phone set up to record the moment as I shook out my jitters.

"I don't know why I'm so fucking nervous. It's only two cupcakes!" I exhaled, Harry placing down to small plates, placing each cupcake down.

"I can't believe we're eating something that will tell us what two of them are" He snickered, my eyes rolling.

Ever since I dropped off the cupcake order, Harry's been very vocal about how dumb of an idea this was (Which made me cry quite a few times since I thought it was cute, and it didn't harm anything) - even though he was very on board originally but he put his opinion aside and let me thankfully have my moment.

"We just bite into it, right?" He asked and I nodded, peeling the wrapper off.

"The filling should be pink or blue" I hummed, licking my lips as the nerves ran rampant in my stomach. 

"Ready?" He asked.

"Are you?" I countered, Harry's dimples popping as he leaned over, his smile meeting my own as we kissed before he pulled away and replied, "Ready", my cheeks becoming pink and warm.

We both watched each other bite into the cupcake, making me laugh at how awkward this was.

I refused to look inside as I chewed, whereas Harry immediately held the cupcake up to his face, his eyes widening as he turned it around, still chewing.

It was blue.

We were having at least one boy.

My own eyes went wide as I swallowed, Harry motioning for me to flip my own cupcake around, but my head shook as my own eyes trailed to the colored frosting.

It was blue.

I apparently didn't flip my wrist fast enough after my face showed surprise because Harry grabbed my wrist and turned it for me, seeing the blue frosting for himself.

"Two boys!" He yelled, my smile widening as he set our cupcakes down and pulled me into a kiss. "Oh my god" He groaned, hugging me the best he could due to how large and in charge my stomach was. "We're having two boys, baby"

"Mhm. I hope they look just like you. Brown curly hair, green eyes, dimples and all. Pure perfection" I kissed him again, Harry's cheeks tinting pink as he dropped to his knees, lifting my shirt to kiss my stomach.

"Hi boys" His lips moved against my skin. 

I could feel his lips move against me, but I couldn't hear him before he placed soft kisses against my stretch marks, getting up off his knees and kissing me.

"Happy?" I teased, Harry wildly nodding.

"Two down, two to go"

* * * * 

"Let's hope they're not shy this time" Our tech chuckled, moving the wand against the gel on my stomach, Harry and I watching the ultrasound machine for the umpteenth time.

"You guys know the two genders, right?" He double checked, Harry and I nodded; Harry informing him we knew at least two of them were boys.

We went over if we wanted to know if he could see them, or have them written down again; surprisingly Harry said he wanted to know from the tech; making this entire situation even more anticipated.

"It's noted that baby B and C were said to be boys" he hummed, showing us the ultrasound of the two, their penis very evident on the screen; confirming they were indeed boys. "So we need baby A, and baby D" he hummed again, flipping the screen. "Let's see.. this is baby A, they're a wiggly little one. I'm sure that can be uncomfortable. They're on your lower right" He said and I immediately nodded. "Let's see, their little fist is still clenched" He chuckled. "We could always have you drink some cold water, it usually gets them moving. It will make you have to pee though" 

Two cups of cold water later, the wand was back to moving across my stomach, the three of us looking back at baby A who's tummy was moving up and down, legs still closed together.

"God damnit child!" I groaned, Harry and the tech snickering, "They're already being difficult!"

"Let's look at baby D" the screen flickered against for a better view of the baby on my left side. "This one's tucked in near your ribs" He winced, apparently knowledge on the fact that baby's against your ribs fucking suck. "Oh!" His voice peaked in pitch, "See here" He pointed at the screen where we could see between their legs due to the movement.

"Is that-" Harry paused, the tech nodding.

"Oh my god" my eyes prickled with tears, the perfect heartbeat filling our ears as happiness washed over me.

"Baby D is a boy!" The tech announced, writing it down on the paper.

"Three boys" Harry spoke in disbelief.

"Let's try looking back at baby A again" The tech noted, Harry and I waiting with baited breath.

Would the fourth be a boy? Were we having all boys? Do I want all boys? How am I going to raise boys? 

"Come on little one, your mum and dad want to know what you are" he murmured to himself, trying different angles, but due to how the baby was positioned, even with the movement, we could only see their leg.

Sadly we couldn't see what Baby A was, leaving us with yet another appointment of anticipated mystery.

Our third gender related appointment, Harry and I had our fingers crossed, as the tech checked again, already noting that everything seemed to be alright even though they were all quite small.

"This little one is definitely shy" The tech chuckled as Harry and I nervously waited, although we decided to not find out what baby A was, and to have it written down on the paper so we could have one surprise at our gender reveal party with the family, it was still anxiety inducing.

What if they never showed and we just had to wait till my c-section?

I knew it wasn't the end of the world to not know; but it sucks having your heart set on something, just for all of that to be taken away. As silly as it sounds, Harry and I couldn't help but have a plethora of pillow talks about our kids, and what if we thought the fourth one would also be a boy.

It made my pregnancy dreams pick up as I imagined having these babies, except the fourth one just kept switching out from boy to girl every time I looked at them.

"Oh? I think we have a chance!" The tech exclaimed, my heart rate picking up as I desperately wished to turn the screen towards us; watching the techs head tilt, Harry's hand squeezed mine as he whispered, "This is it" in my ear, softly pecking my cheek afterwards.

"Oh my god, you know!" I accused, watching him pick up the pen with a small smile on his face.

"I do"

"Oh my god, tell me!" I joked, before quickly adding, "I'm joking! Don't actually!"

"I still can't believe we're having quadruplets" Harry laughed, taking the sealed envelope.

"I can't believe I'm working on a case of quadruplets!" The tech chuckled, wiping the gel off my stomach.

"This entire thing has been a daydream and a nightmare all wrapped in one messy package" I sighed, Harry helping me up so I could pull my shirt down.

"They appear healthy though, which is the best part of my job" The tech offered us a small smile, shuffling some of the paperwork on the counter before scooping up a clipboard.

The second we got home, Harry and I grabbed a few snacks before sitting down on our couch and immediately starting to plan this party.

"How are we going to buy balloons if we don't know the gender?" Harry asked, my pointer finger hitting the down key as I scrolled through different Pinterest Ideas.

"I'm more so wondering how original we want to be" 

"You said you wanted to do Balloons in a box in our living room" Harry's eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"But is it stupid?" I worried, Harry's eyes rolling.

"Babe, gender reveals in general are stupid"

"No they aren't" I whined, pouting as I moved the laptop off of me and onto the coffee table, "They're special! We're telling our family and friends what we're having! It's fun and special"

"I understand that it is special. But extravagant things are a bit much, no? I told you this with the cupcakes"

"It was two cupcakes, Harry" I huffed, tired of coming back to this conversation. "Plus, you're literally the king of being extra! I don't understand what you're so hung up on"

"I'm not hung up on anything"

"Bullshit! You were all excited about this when we first found out, but the section I put everything into motion, you became Mr. Bah Humbug!"

"I'm not being Bah Humbug, I'm just thinking.. this is a lot, babe. You're six months pregnant, love. I don't think we need to be doing some huge party; let alone planning it. You're supposed to be resting and protecting yourself and our babies-"

"So what? Now I'm a bad mom?" I frowned, Harry's cheeks puffing as he blew our air.

"You know I didn't say that, babe. I just don't want you overdoing it, is all. Plus, how are we supposed to order and put these things together without knowing? Doesn't someone else typically do this?"

"I just want it to be special, Harry" I sighed, my eyes falling shut as I let my body give into the comfort of our couch.

"It will be, baby. I just think decorating and all that is something we don't need to do ourselves. There are professionals for a reason. Shouldn't we just hire someone? Then all that stress is on them, and I can keep you comfy and cozy in bed as you do the hardest job out of anyone" He smiled softly, his thumbs digging into the soles of my sock covered feet.

"What? Laying around?" I scoffed, Harry's smile widening as he shook his head, replying, "Growing our babies"

* * * * 

Our house was decorated to the gods.

Pastel pink and blue balloons were blown up and attached to all sorts of different signage around our downstairs. 

A "Girl or boy?" a banner was hung over our entry table where cute little guessing game activities were.

Different jars read, "All boys" "All girls" "Three girls, one boy" etc of the different variants; marbles ready to clatter into the mason jars.

A calendar with the month of our due date was shown, "Guess the due date" being listed with a jar under it where you can slip a piece of paper into it and finally, a place to leave baby name suggestions was sat next to a cute "Welcome to the Styles' gender reveal party! Please no social media posts, or stories! This is a private event!" With parenthesis underneath reading "Please don't share the genders of their babies on social media either"

In the kitchen we had an assortment of catered foods and bowls of snacks; the prized Cake sat in the middle that had a cake topper reading, "Boys or girls?" 

Harry's event planner got a four tiered cake ordered, each layer being frosted with blue or pink frosting so when you sliced into it, and took a piece out, the answer was in the frosting.

In our living room stood four taped shut boxes that  had the balloons in them, the final box being the one Harry and I didn't know.

Harry was wearing a pastel pink shirt with blue jeans and I was wearing a cute pastel pink and blue tie dye maxi dress.

On our dining room table the baby gifts were sat wrapped in perfected wrapping paper and bows, or puffy tissue paper peeking out of bags. Harry and I fought over the idea of being gifted things since we could very well afford everything but annoyingly Harry brought his mom into it, who explained that "It's just so special to shop for baby gifts. It's so fun to see something you bought them being used! Especially clothes and things"

Harry made sure I sat most of the time since my feet were pretty swollen, different people coming up to me and conversing before we played a few party games awaiting the real reason everyone was gathered here.

"Ready, love?" Harry asked, my head nodding as my hands grabbed his, the leverage of his pull helping me onto my feet, a few people chuckling before Harry kissed me, lacing our hands together before helping me waddle over to the boxes, taking a different seat right in front of the final two boxes on the left of Harry.

"Hello!" Harry's voice boomed over everyone else's, getting them to focus on him. "We just wanted to thank everyone for coming! Y/N and I can't wait to go on this journey together as you all know. In case anyone has forgotten, We are expecting quadruplets!" Harry and the crowd cheered, my eyes rolling as I replied, "How could I forget?" getting a few laughs. 

"You look stunning, babe" He reassured me, "Now Y/N and I do know what is inside of the first three boxes" he motioned towards them with his hand, "This is for you. The last one is a surprise to us all" 

"Get going already!" My mom shouted somewhere from within the crowd, all of us laughing as Harry nodding.

"Alright, better now than never" he chuckled nervously, crouching next to me to open the box. "Ready? Five.. Four.." he led, the crowd joining them before reaching zero, the box opening and the small blue balloons floated up to the ceiling.

The crowd cheered and whistled, a few cries of excitement and curses of "I thought it'd be all girls" were heard around the room.

The process repeated two more times, the anticipation growing as blue balloons laid at our feet, my hands shaking a little over the fourth box.

This was it.

We'd finally know.

"Come on baby boy! All boys! Let me be right!" My mom prayed in front of me, her fingers twisted into a promise hold.

"Open it!" The crowd cheered, Harry and I smiling at each other before I pried open the box, refusing to look until the balloons floated out, the crowd cheering in excitement as Harry pulled me into a hug; pink balloons above us.

It was a girl.

We were having a baby girl.

"I love you so much, Y/N" Harry told me, kissing me for a few moments before pulling away.

"I told you they wouldn't be all the same!" I laughed, his eyes rolling as he grabbed one of the pink balloons.

"I can't believe we're having a girl. I really thought they'd be all boys" he chuckled, "With the first three being boys, I had a pretty solidified thought that you'd be the princess of the family, but uh, I hope you don't mind being the queen" He teased, tossing me the pink balloon.

Everyone came up to congratulate us, my body feeling numb as I tried to process all the new information.

It felt fake. Like all of this was a lie.

If it wasn't for my big belly and constant medical check ups, I would've thought they were pulling my leg. 

Harry and I were really having quadruplets after our long infertility struggle. We were having three boys and a girl, and it all felt surreal. You couldn't wipe the smile off our faces even if you tried, but that didn't mean the worry didn't build up higher and higher each and every day the news started to set in. As fake as it felt, it also felt extremely real. We were going to be parents to quadruplets in just a few months and we didn't have anything picked out and ready.

Anne came up to us, full smile and hugs before exclaiming, "I can't believe I'm going to be a grandma! You guys are  definitely going to have your hands full but I'll be here whenever you need! I can't believe you're having a little girl! After all those blue balloons, I was certain I was going to need to stock up on everything boy" She laughed, Harry grinning down at his mother.

"Trust us, we're both in just as much disbelief as you" 

ynstyles

♡ liked by: annetwist, yourbff, harrystyles, and 27,940 others

tagged: harrystyles

ynstyles: Struggling to get out of bed!! #toopregnant 

view all 13,758 comments

harrystyles: You can stay in bed for as long as you want babe ↳ ynstyles: @/harrystyles I would, but my bladder says otherwise!

yourbff: I can't wait to touch your belly!!

↳ ynstyles: @/yourbff Okay that sounds weird lol

harryfan1: I can't wait till Harry becomes a dad! It's going to be so cute!! ↳ harryfan2: @/harryfan1 That is if they share it with us :/ ↳ harryfan3: @/harryfan2 Oh shit, true O_o

harryfan4: Does anyone know how far along she is?

harryfan5: Since when was she pregnant? 

harryfan6: I need Harry cuddles :(

harryfan7: I can't believe she's having his kid 🙄This divorce is gonna get messy!! 😬 ↳ harryfan8: @/harryfan7 Divorce? :(

* * * * 

I have no baby names picked out help

September 13th, 16th, 17th 2023

Published on: September 17th 2023

Word Count: 4417

tags: @ashleighsss @theekyliepage

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Fight Me? (Gojo Satoru one-shot)

This is based on the following:

Nurse!Gojo falling for a grumpy lil Rinko in this short and sweet AU one-shot 💕

It is fluffy and cute and I really enjoyed writing this silly lil thing 🥹

Also, happy early birthday Gojo Satoru!

I'll try to get the amusement park Another Level Extra done and posted by tomorrow 😊

Fight Me?

“Good morning, Kurisaki-chan,” the nurse’s annoyingly chipper voice sang as he entered the room. “Wakey, wakey!”

“Fight me,” Rinko mumbled, trying to shield her eyes with a pillow when he flipped the lights on.

“Maybe later, Kurisaki-chan,” Gojo replied cheerfully, prying the pillow from her face. His stunning blue eyes smiled down at her from behind the white hair that fell in a messy mop across his forehead. “Can’t if you suffocate yourself while I’m trying to take your vitals, though.”

He wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm and began pumping air into it, his eyes staying firmly on the gauge as it inflated.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked as he jotted the numbers down. “Comfy enough?”

She hadn’t, which was to be expected since she was in a hospital. Her least favorite place on earth. The constant beeping of all the machines and the hustle and bustle just outside the door didn’t help the ambiance, either. But she would admit that it was a bit more comfortable than usual because he’d been kind enough to get her extra pillows before he’d left the previous evening. 

“Fine until someone blinded me at-” she glanced at the clock on the wall, “-seven in the morning.” She scowled at his giant grin. “Did you have to turn all the lights on?”

“How else would I be able to see your pretty face?” he teased. His lips pulled into a smirk when the beeping of the heart rate monitor sped up, and he winked before walking toward the door. “Remember, if you need anything, just press the little button, and I’ll come to the rescue!”

He flipped the lights back off and closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t fair of him to be attractive and flirty with her when she felt - and probably looked - like death.

She glared out of the little fortress of pillows she’d created as the door opened, his familiar voice chiming excitedly.

“You know what time it is,” Gojo called, his grin widening at the sight of her protective barrier.

“Fight m-” the words choked off when the air caught in her lungs, and she hunched over as the coughs rattled her chest.

He patted her back gently before giving her a serious look when she was finally able to breathe again.

“I can’t fight you, Kurisaki-chan,” he stated matter-of-factly as he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her bicep. “You’d win. And those other assholes over at the nurse’s station would never let me live it down. They’d probably film it, too, and then it would end up on the internet, and then I’d never be able to leave my house again.”

The wheezing laugh escaped before she could stop it, causing his face to break into a giant, boyish grin. His already brilliant eyes somehow shined brighter when he smiled like that. She found herself blinking up at him stupidly as he turned his attention back to his task.

He had dimples.

There was that damn beeping.

“Bit faster than it was when I took it earlier,” he observed. Her neck felt hot, especially when his grin turned smug, but he just jotted down the numbers and placed her pillows back where they had been.

Her brow furrowed in confusion when she heard Gojo’s voice just outside her door.

He had been in earlier to get her vitals before he left for the evening, so she wasn’t sure what he was doing back. The only thing she could think of was if they needed more bloodwork, which made her actually want to fight him.

The door opened, and he slipped inside, holding his left hand behind his back. She knew he could see the panic in her eyes, but it shifted into a glare when he laughed.

“I’m a bit hurt you’re so upset to see me,” Gojo teased, his lips pulling into a pout. “You can breathe easy. I’m not here to poke or prod you again, Kurisaki-chan.”

“What are you hiding, then?” she asked suspiciously. “If you have a damn needle, I’ll-”

“Threaten to fight me?” he asked, eyes shining with amusement. She leaned over, trying to see what he had, and he tutted. “Ah, ah. No peeking. I have a gift for you since you’ve been such a model patient this week, right now excluded.”

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a slightly unimpressed look.

“What kind of gift?”

“Just a little something to remember me by,” he stated happily. “You’ll most likely get discharged tomorrow, but I won’t be here since it’s my day off. Soooo-” he pulled his hand from behind his back to dramatically brandish a small stuffed panda, “-I wanted to give you this. You can look at him and think about the best nurse you’ve ever met in your life.”

Her eyebrows shot up at the sight of the stuffed animal, a surprised laugh escaping at the fact that it was wearing scrubs and had a felt stethoscope draped around its neck. It was cute.

The boyish grin that showed off his dimples was back. Deep cerulean blue made her feel like she was drowning. When her eyes met his, she felt her neck heat up when the damn beeping sped up like it always did.

“Thank you,” she murmured, gnawing on her bottom lip. “And thank you for being so kind this week. Sorry if I was a bit rude-”

“I don’t take it personally,” he cut her off, still smiling. “You clearly aren’t a fan of hospitals. Most people aren’t. But I do like to think my incredible charm makes it a bit more bearable.”

“A bit,” she conceded, unable to fight the urge to return his grin. “Thank you again. And for- the gift.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied easily, moving back to the door. “Now, I’m heading out for the night. Take care of that little guy, yeah? I know it’s a big responsibility, but I think you’re up for the task after I did such a great job caring for you.” He paused at the door. “But if you forget, I left some instructions in his pocket to help you remember!”

He tossed her a wink before he was gone, and she blinked stupidly after him. 

Pursing her lips, she reached into the tiny pocket curiously to find a torn piece of notebook paper folded up. Another laugh escaped before she could stop it as she read his scribbled ‘instructions.’

Fun anecdote: years ago, when I was in the hospital, a student nurse came into the room at 7:30 after I'd barely slept at all, flipped the lights on, and was like, "GOOD MORNING, [KIKO]. MY NAME IS KATE. HOW DID YOU SLEEP? I'M HERE TO CHECK YOUR VITALS-" and I feel like the fact that I still remember her fucking name after all these years tells you enough about how much I hated her in that moment.