#the older ones are from november...

[crynburne]

old sctir doodles (that somewhat stood the test of time)

some have novel events spoilers so beware

[shittybirdpictures]

barrows goldeneye

[quibbs126]

So I had another random idea for some version of a Megatron, this one being based off the idea that the Decepticons are in large part propaganda by the Autobots. Like they exist and are fighting the corrupt Cybertronian government, but their evil-ness is greatly embellished by the Autobots to make them look less credible in their cause, including giving them the name Decepticons

So basically my thought was that this Megatron only recently became leader of the Decepticons. Someone else had been the leader of the Decepticons, and it was generally an even match between them and the Autobots, until one day the Autobots were able to gain some upper hand or created some last resort that devastated the Decepticons, including killing their former leader. I’m not sure if it was one decisive victory or something like Project Omega

The Decepticons were in shambles afterwards, and it was assume the war would be over soon and they would surrender. However, Megatron, who I’m thinking was an apprentice to the former leader and deeply respected them, rose up and is now keeping the faction alive, making it so the war goes on and everything the Decepticons (and his mentor) fought for does not die in vain

He’s probably got his own smear campaign going on with the Autobots for this, claiming he’s even worse than the former leader, possibly even saying that he intentionally led that leader to their death (though it was still an Autobot victory), so that he could claim their title and power for himself. And also that he’s an absolute tyrant, and probably that he’s huge and deadly powerful

The real Megatron isn’t nearly as monstrous (probably not as big too), but he has an iron will and refuses to let the Autobots win, and is very good at giving rousing speeches to rally the Decepticons. However his new position leaves him very stressed, as he’s well aware that the Decepticon cause is hanging by a thread, and he’s just trying to pull it all back together. He was also not in a leadership position before this, that was his mentor, but he’s taken it now because seemingly no one else would

I imagine Decepticons like Soundwave, ones very loyal to the cause, are also very desperate to keep Megatron alive, because while he’s keeping things together in their moment of crisis, if he dies at this point, the Decepticon cause will likely die with him, there won’t be another Megatron to similarly take his place. I’m not sure about Starscream, but he probably thinks Megatron isn’t cut out for the job. Whether or not he tries to get rid of Megatron and insert himself as leader probably depends on how loyal to the cause he is

As for Optimus in this scenario? I’m not sure, but chances are he’s generally in the dark about the true nature of the war. I might pull from that abandoned g2 AU in which Optimus was the one to kill the former leader, but had no idea the full consequences of his actions at that time. It might be less direct here, but he still had some hand in it. Which gives Megatron a reason to despise and go after Optimus, for killing his mentor, though it might be another case of propaganda in how involved he actually was, and the Autobots just propping him up for the sake of their narrative

But yeah, just some thoughts, it’s not really fleshed out. And in all honesty, I’ll probably abandon it like my other AUs. But you know, thought it’d be neat to share

[tiktaaliker]

a legend returns....

[the-skin-inthe-bath-is-mine]

Hand embroidery practice.

[hide-your-bugs-away]

old art but aaaa...... them.... 🐾🎹🎤✨️💞

[darkmoonkestrel]

daily kestrel 70:

worked, went to Sam's on my lunch break to buy some totes for packing, and did more work. and then after work.... we went to three houses, the first of which was a bust, followed by two absolute zingers that we could see ourselves in

long story short, we're putting three offers in in the morning and seeing what sticks. simultaneously terrified and excited, we rocked out to Freaks by Timmy Trumpet on the way home. we decided to get the big Zaxby's chicken tender pack for dinner, and after discussing in the car that we missed their milkshakes, we arrived to discover that they have brought back milkshakes - we took it as a good omen and got one for each of us, mostly as a surprise for Paige since Peyton and I were the ones who went in to pick up the food. after that big dinner, it's 9pm and it's bed time

I find it ironic that I went into my wedding dress shopping going "no strapless dresses" and went into this house shopping going "no split foyers", life really likes to twist me up in my words and prove me wrong. oh and Peyton can do an incredibly uncanny impression of the voice Bob does for the burgers when he talks to them

[suhtorus]

mama's day... again? gojo satoru

fluff ‐ parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ non sorcerers au, slice of life, mom!reader, unnamed 5 and 2yo sons, 8-month-old daughter. a little late, i knoooow u.u

i remember getting this idea back in november, and i can't believe it's been over six months since i started posting these ( ˊo̴̶̷̤ ̫ o̴̶̷̤ˋ)

little sunshines au

it's a no-school day.

it's the weekend.

so, your eldest can't help but groan when satoru shakes him awake. he's allowed to sleep more on no-school days. why is their dad waking them up so early!?

"guys, c'mon. it's mama's day," your husband's hushed words and beaming smile are met with identical mini copies of his own features, their scowling little faces only making him grin wider.

"again?" your toddler's blue eyes seem to burn a hole through satoru's forehead. "when's mochi day?"

"soon."

"when?"

satoru closes his eyes and breathes in. it's too early for him to lose his cool, and he can't have the kids start the day with tears. not today.

"after mama's day. so, if you want your gifts, you have to help papa."

the two boys happily follow after their dad like baby ducklings.

—

there's a rustle followed by incoherent mumbling—incoherent to others, at least.

because to the trained ear of a mother, it's clear how your son mumbles a string of c'mon, c'mon, c'mon in distress.

your eyes open just in time as your toddler knocks over the candle on your bedside table, struggling with the flower bouquet (which is considerably bigger than him).

"hey, you."

it takes almost ten minutes for your husband to realize he's missing a little duckling, rushing to look for his whereabouts once he remembers he has two sons, not one.

"mochi," he whisper-shouts, stressed out already. he enters your shared bedroom, looking at the floor for that white tuft of hair crawled somewhere under the furniture. "mochi, what's taking you– oh, no."

drapped on top of you, gently held in your arms, lies your son as he tells you about mochi day.

"–gifts and fishies, mama!"

you chuckle at his enthusiasm, basking in the warmth of the duvet and your toddler nuzzled in your arms, the familiar baby scent still lingering on his skin.

"hey," your husband nervously interrupts, walking further into the room until he's right next to your side of the bed. "good morning, gorgeous."

his kiss on your lips is short and adoring, his lips pulling up into a gentle smile.

"i caught you guys," you can't help but smile cheekily at his failed attempt to surprise you. "where are my other two babies? you better not left them unsupervised–"

"no, 'course not. be right back! you–" he grabs your toddler from your arms. "–are coming with me."

—

a few minutes later, the door of your bedroom opens, and your baby girl walks in with the help of her dad.

"oh my– is that my sweet little baby?"

your coos earn you an excited squeal from your daughter as soon as her eyes notice you. your husband gently holds her hands as she walks towards you, stumbling over her tiny feet before satoru lifts her up and settles her on the bed with you.

right behind him is your toddler.

"for you, mama."

you take the small box from his hands, ready to bring him up on the bed with you, "thank you, baby."

"hold the kisses. there's more, remember?" satoru reminds your son, and he nods, rushing out of the room before you can even demand a kiss on the cheek.

your two boys walk back in carrying a gift bag—a huge one. after a brief struggle to place it on the bed, both boys huff heavily before smiling proudly at each other.

"what do you say?" satoru tries to give your youngest son a cue, which he obviously misses.

"thank you!"

you can't help but chuckle at his proud little grin, his older brother shaking his head next to him.

"no, mochi. the other thing." your son corrects his baby brother.

"happy birthday?"

"happy mother's day, my angel."

both your husband and son give up, sighing as the toddler now looks confused and utterly lost.

satoru swiftly launches each kid onto the bed before joining as well, needing the cuddles after a hectic morning.

[reasonsforhope]

Article

As he peered over a secluded cove off the coast of San Francisco, Gerry McChesney couldn’t believe the scene that was unfolding in front of him. 

Fur seal pups — hundreds of them — had taken over the inlet at the Farallon Islands National Wildlife Refuge and were bobbing on the surface of the water in a shiny, blubbery mass, likely hiding from great white sharks as they waited for their mothers to return from the sea to nurse. The sight wasn’t exactly unheard of — island biologists at Point Blue Conservation Science had first noticed the older seal pups using the cove as a covert hideout sometime last year, McChesney, a manager for the refuge, told SFGATE. But he was on the island one day in late October when biologist Jim Tietz delivered the news: The seals were back in full force, and in numbers they had never seen before. 

McChesney decided to go take a look for himself.

“I was amazed to see them all piled in there, getting tossed around like they were in a washing machine,” he told SFGATE in an email, adding that he counted 440 in all. “They looked pretty content and like they were having a good ol’ time.”

The video McChesney captured was shared by the United States Fish and Wildlife Service on social media earlier this week, garnering thousands of comments on Instagram and Facebook, with users referring to the phenomenon as “seal pup daycare” and “nature’s mosh pit.” 

To the biologists, it’s a sign of “a truly remarkable recovery.” 

The rookery’s history

The Farallon Islands host one of just two fur seal rookeries south of Alaska (the other being San Miguel Island in Santa Barbara County) after the species was completely wiped out from the area in the early 19th century. There was extensive seal hunting between about 1810 and 1838... In the first few years of widespread hunting, he estimates that over 150,000 fur seals were slaughtered (“The rookery must have been huge,” he noted) and soon, no fur seals could be found at the islands at all.

But large-scale market hunting came to an end by the mid-19th century, he said. In 1911, the United States signed the Northern Fur Seal Treaty, banning the hunting of marine mammals at sea. The Marine Mammal Protection Act, which prohibits killing and disturbing animals including seals, was established in 1972, further aiding in the protection of the species. Two years later, 141 acres of the islands were designated the Farallon Wilderness and were closed to the public in an attempt to mitigate human disturbance so the seals could return and “breed unfettered,” McChesney said. Large breeding colonies still persisted on the Pribilof Islands, Alaska, and the Commander Islands off eastern Siberia, and in 1996, a female fur seal from a recovered colony on the Channel Islands made her way back to the Farallones, giving birth to the first fur seal pup there after more than 150 years of the species’ absence.

Since then, “the Farallon population has been growing rapidly,” McChesney said. Within 15 years, the local population had boomed to 476 individuals, Bay Nature reported in 2018. Initially, they clustered in one area on the west end of the islands — but now, they’re beginning to expand.

Pictured: A photo of a northern fur seal in Alaska.

A seal surge

Pupping season runs from June to August, with most of the seals born in July and remaining in the breeding colony for a few months before they are weaned, usually by the end of November. Then, the newly independent animals go out to sea on their own. 

Farallon Island biologists from Point Blue Conservation Science have been documenting the population, and this year recorded 2,133 fur seals in total, including 1,276 pups, which McChesney called “the highest pup count yet.” 

“Given that the entire colony can’t be seen, this was a minimal count and there were certainly many more,” he noted.

Pictured: The Farallon Islands off the coast of San Francisco.

Though Point Blue biologists have never documented white sharks feeding on fur seal pups (they typically go for juvenile northern elephant seals and sea lions) the “threat of shark attacks on the seal pups is certainly there and I’m sure the pups are aware of that,” McChesney said. “The cove where the video was taken provides a secluded spot to swim and play without worrying about the sharks.”

When the mothers return, they find their pups by using a distinctive call. But in the meantime, the pups seem not to mind the hours away in their secret hideout where they can splash and play to their hearts’ content.

“It was so much fun to watch,” McChesney said. “And knowing that the sight represents such an amazing comeback for their population made the sight mean so much more.”

-via SF Gate, December 23, 2024

[xo2dee]

🗨️ OPIA/GOJO NSFW WEEK 2023 - DAY FIVE: BREEDING

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru/(Fem)Reader.WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Breeding Kink, Vaginal sex, Rough Sex, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Mentions of Pregnancy.WORD COUNT: 2,336. SUMMARY: Honestly, it was a wonder it didn't happen sooner in your marriageOr: Gojo and you explore the wonders of not using a condom.

A/N: i would probably have like 6 kids if i was married to gojo ngl, just bc we wouldnt wrap it up LMAO

JJK MASTERLIST

Marriage was something you hadn’t necessarily prepared yourself for – well, you wouldn’t necessarily say that. Of course, you’d thought about it, more-so as a child whenever you had your Barbie dolls getting married to one another or when you got older and began to watch more Romcoms that usually ended with the titular characters getting married. So yeah, you did sometimes think about getting married, but you would stand by and say that you actually never thought about it.

And boy, when you did get married, you realized a lot of the Romcoms were leaving out the intricate threads of the relationship within.

Your husband was of no issues; in fact you very much loved him and could safely say after years of dating before he popped the big question, that he very much loved you as well. He was handsome to boot, he was so, so, so, so funny, he called you silly names and kissed your cheek when he left the house for the day, he was very attentive to you and your needs, and all in all he actually loved you.

On November 14th (just a year and half prior), you became Mrs. Gojo, your husband being the Gojo Satoru of course. A big name to add onto yourself, but nothing too daunting since you’d been there for each other every step of the way. No, it was more… the intimate parts of your relationship that started to see a change whenever you settled a year into your relationship. And it all started when you found yourself having an urge – families with babies and swollen bellies carrying a life in them that your mind reeling and kept you up at night thinking of the possibilities you could’ve had with Satoru.

You kept it to yourself, but that wasn’t to say you didn’t drop hints. It started with cooing at baby clothes whenever you took him shopping with you, his eyebrow rising behind his glasses but nothing coming from it. Or whenever you took to babysitting your friends kids, bringing it up to him every time you saw on social media someone you knew was pregnant, or the most important when you had announced that you’d be getting off of birth control. He’d been somewhat surprised, asking you if it was for health reasons or others, but you only offered a small smile while telling him that he was welcome to throw away the condoms he had if he wanted to – to which he gladly did, your own interest piquing at how inanely willing he was to just go along with it.

(“Unlimited creampies,” he’d joked, tossing every he had condom away and grinning like a shark once he did so. You should’ve known that he’d really meant it too.)

You should’ve known, however, Satoru could read you like a book.

That’s how you found yourself clutching the pillow underneath your head for dear life as Satoru’s cock was all but rearranging your organs while his hands had a near death grip on your hips in the process.

Your legs took purchase hitched up on top of his shoulders, your heels nearly touching your ears as he literally bent you in half so that he could fuck you better. The temperature in the room was boiling, perspiration lining your bodies down from the forehead to the conjunction of where both of your bodies were currently smacking into one and another. The only sounds you were really able to make out was the smacking of his skin into yours, the headboard of your shared bed knocking into the wallpaper you desperately wanted to change, and your gasped out moans all jumbled in words varying of his name and praises from the ferocity of his movements.

His face was a God-given sight to see; all flushed and his eyebrows knotted together in ecstasy as he kept his jaw clenched yet allowed his poorly concealed groans leave his mouth. It didn’t help you were talking filthy in his ear either, the loud exhales growling and the grip on your hips bruising every time you moaned out his name driving him forward push and stretch your insides as much as he could. Your earlier admission to how you wanted to feel him cum inside of you had seemingly pushed him over the edge, and you hadn’t even gotten the part where you wanted to tell him to put baby in you.

Unclutching the fabric of the pillow you slid your hands out to dig your nails into his back, earning you a grunt and a particular hard thrust as he pulled out back far enough until his tip was resting on your opening before diving back in. It was insane on how good he felt, your toes curling as that ball of fire behind your naval burned further towards your eventual release whenever he fucked into you harder.

You panted out again as your body rocked underneath his in unison to his hips, mouth finding his ear again to push at his resolve more, “If I would’ve known you – mmmGod – known you’d be like this, I would’ve – fuckrightthere – would’ve begged you more.”

Normally Satoru was so talkative; he just talked, talked, and talked, especially in the bedroom. Yet you supposed he more focused on concentrating than anything, his eyelashes fluttering at your words and thumbs digging into your ribcage the more he slid your bodies further up to the bed. It made you purse your lips, his lack of responding to you, and you knew if you wanted to drive him wild you’d have to really tell him what you wanted.

Your fingers traced back up to his nape, curl a few strands fingers around his hair there as you pressed a kiss to his jaw and whispered in finality into his ear, “Satoru… I want you to cum. I want you to put a baby in me.”

Your husband abruptly stopped for a moment, your body and mind nearly seizing in fear that you had said the wrong thing, however he was quick to recover. Meeting your eyes with an intensely dilated pupil as he searched your face, and once he found what he was looking for, he was already moving once more. And you really didn’t have to say anything else to urge him on either.

His pace was faster than before, your eyes rolling and stomach knotting up from the force of his cock stretching and pounding into your pussy, and you couldn’t strangle a moan out as his mouth covered your own. He trapped your tongue without any remorse, sucking on it feverishly as the slaps of your skin meeting echoed throughout the bedroom and the sounds of your pussy wet and garbled reached your ears to make your cheeks warm up. He was already teetering on a side of rough sex beforehand, but by then Satoru was full-blown feral.

He released your mouth with a pop, a string of spit connecting you both as you could only look headily up at him, his cheeks flushed and teeth flashing in a grin. “Mmm, you think I didn’t know? Droppin’ all those hints… I was just waiting on you to say it,” a hand left your body to squeeze your cheeks, puckering your lips as he pried your lips open, “Is that what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you stupid and fill you up with enough cum that you’d get pregnant? Is that what it was?”

You couldn’t necessarily answer him, his thumb pressing down on your tongue only left you mumbling and keening with gasping whines as he fucked you. Your body grow hotter the more he spoke, however, a weak nod you gave to encourage him onward to keeping talking as you began to feel your climax spiral throughout your body.

“I wish you could see yourself; you got that look in your eye that’s just begging me to ruin you. You want my cum so bad you can’t stand it, can you?” his fingers left your cheeks to pull down on your chin, forcing your mouth to open a little wider as his thumb hooked itself onto your bottom teeth, forcing your moans out into the open air and your tongue swiping forward to lick at the appendage. He gave a breathy laugh, his hips further into you that made you back arch and thighs scream at the way your body was bending to his will, and he leant down far enough to skim his lips over your own, “You’d look so good – with my cum inside of you and a baby fucked into you… Just say it again for me.”

You tried to answer him, you really did, but your mind was teetering on a slippery slope and your body was falling prey to its desires, it was suffocating you. Your breaths intermingled with one another in lost kisses and nips, his own fanning across your burning cheeks and his grunts rising in octave to near moans to signal he was at his own impending release. You mumbled a jumble of something you weren’t necessarily too sure of, his pelvis rubbing against your clit making your eyes roll back and he pushed forward more.

“Say it again.”

His thumb trailed away down onto your chin, an afterthought of saliva following after him, “I want a baby. Fuck a baby into me.”

Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed inwards, one hand slipping away to press against your swollen clit and his thrusts growing to an alarming rate. He had mastered knowing just what spots inside of you to get you to come undone for him; he knew which way to rub your clit as well, a pattern he was doing at that moment that your lower abdomen twitching and curling in on itself in an effort to keep yourself from cumming to early on him lest he was dragging it out. And given how your thighs were beginning to shake and his thrust were begging to grow sloppy and uneven, you knew neither of you would last much longer given all that dirty talk and moaned promises.

His hips pushed into you desperately, nearly hard enough to leave you with bruises and your fingers found purchase to scratching along his back, something that was rewarded with Satoru’s back arching and a groan pushing through his swollen lips. His cock twitched fervently – a pulse when it slotted up fully inside of you, and a warning that he was about to cum.

“Say it again,” he pleaded, fingers twitching on your clit as it was slippery with your own juices. His cheeks grew redder, sweat glistening all across his body and you had half a mind to engrave the way he looked into memory for future reference when he was away and you two more than likely engaged in phone sex. When you didn’t answer him for a moment, he sighed and pinched your clit with a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Please.”

You couldn’t deny him, garbling it on in a mess of whines and sighs, “I want you to cum inside me… Cum so much there’s no way I don’t get pregnant.”

Satoru groaned, "That's it.” His intentions became clear after that, deliberately slamming his cock against that oh-so sweet spot inside of your pussy. Your head began to spin, muscles tightening up and on the verge of your tendons stretching outwards, you could feel yourself losing the hold you had on your orgasm. It started to slip from you, fingernails digging crescents into his back and your toes curling at his heated groans jolting straight towards your clit. Satoru at that point had become desperate, uneven and choppy thrusts jostling you upwards on the bed as his voice tuned out into a whine, "Say my name when you cum – say it." 

You couldn’t take it; mind full of thoughts of your husband cumming into you and finally fulfilling your wants. And even if it didn’t stick that time around, you both could always keep trying, just cumming –

"Satoru!"

You finally came, a guttural cry of his name that you’d never done before and something he picked up om as well. Cunt spasming sporadically around his hot cock and soaking it completely with your cum, you gasped with a radically arched back and nails sunken fully into his skin. Your eyes fluttered in a hazy gaze, ears tuning back in from brief lapse into nirvana to listen and feel Satoru cum inside of you for the first time. He was always a whiner more than a groaner, spilling into your mouth or hand, but he sounded particularly more whiney once he finally jolted forward with a keening gasp of your name and thick spurts of his cum coated your insides. You felt so full – complete, as his cock twitched and throbbed once the rounds of his cum were settle inside of you, a longing sense of more prickling your mind when you thought of what it could accomplish.

Satoru sighed after a long moment, hand falling away from your clit to steady himself as he leant forward to press a wet kiss to your cheek, and pulling away from you with another exhale to survey how you looked. Your legs fell from his shoulders, boneless and weak, and fell open on their own as your breathing slowed down and you managed to catch your senses as your only heard him hum.

It wasn’t seconds later his long fingers were pushing back into your sensitive pussy, your walls clenching around them as a spark ignited up behind your naval as his prodding. His cum was sloshed around into you by his fingers, a light laugh breaking itself free from his chest a moment later when you began to slowly rock your hips to the rhythm to how his fingers were pushing his cum back inside of you.

“Glad you’re as optimistic as I am, because I’ve got a lot of plans for us now…”

[noonecareslol]

࣪˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader

Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. Suddenly he's falling in love.

TW: Channeling my love for older men. Injury. Reader lowkey gets sad for a sec. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Allusions to masturbation. Size kink if you squint.

WC! 5k Part 2! -> here!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It is quite obvious that In-ho is an old soul.

He enjoys old films, old clothing, old theatre, and old music. The little jazz set that plays, “Fly Me To The Moon” is a cherished possession of his, along with his vintage whiskey decanter.

He wears a musky cologne he’d been gifted by his late wife, and his closet is lined with leather dress shoes and perfectly pressed slacks. His dimly lit room on the island is vastly similar to the one in his Seoul apartment, everything perfectly neat and clean.

Yes, In-ho is an old soul.

And in between the games, when he would return to Seoul, he’d find himself bored. Especially during the night. He’d miss his wife, the whispered hope of a promised future.

Often he would distract himself by putting his whiskey decanter to good use, pouring the aged whiskey into his glass over and over again. He would linger by his shelf full of movies he’d seen hundreds of times, tracing his fingers along the cases until he landed on a title. A small smile would play on his lips before popping it into the DVD player and taking a seat next to his beloved cat.

He would find himself mumbling the lines as the actors spoke them on screen, his hand absentmindedly petting his cat. When the movie is over, and the quiet resumes, he’d move to his bedroom.

He’d ensure his cat followed before changing into his expensive pajamas and climbing into the king-sized bed. His cat would join him and he would drift to sleep, dreaming of, well, nothing.

He would close his eyes and wake up without any dream having occupied his mind.

This routine became comfortable. Each night he would get home from whatever he’d been doing before, drink, watch a movie, play with his cat, and sleep without any dreams.

But this night, this night was different.

It was a cold night. And all In-ho wanted to do was drown in glasses of whiskey and watch “Dial ‘M’ For Murder” with his cat.

But as he walked past a line of people waiting to enter a theatre, a poster caught his attention. He blinked once, twice, before walking toward the lit-up frame.

A strikingly beautiful ballerina caught his attention first. She held her arms elegantly above her head, her leg pointed behind her, her other leg resting on pointe as she looked to the side. She was breathtaking.

The Seoul Ballet Company Presents: Swan Lake

Opening Night November 1st

Suddenly the thought of whiskey and Alfred Hitchcock left his mind as he joined the line. I mean, who would miss out on opening night?

Especially when the lead was so pretty.

“We have one ticket left in the front row.” The woman behind the ticket booth clicked her pen unenthusiastically as she watched In-ho pull his leather vintage wallet out of his coat pocket.

A grin rested plainly on his lips as he fiddled with his cash, “That’s perfect. How much?”

The woman slowly turned and punched a few numbers into her register before turning back to him, “80,000 won.” She clicked her pen again.

“Do you have change for 100,000?” He held the two 50,000 won in front of him, watching as she stared at him blankly.

She blinked once before snatching the bills from his hands, “Nope!” In-ho sighed. For someone so slow she took those bills awfully fast.

In-ho drew his lips into a thin line before taking the ticket and placing it in his wallet, “Thanks.”

“Yeah enjoy the show or, like, whatever.” The woman took out her phone and began to text as he walked away, obviously not giving a shit about her job.

But as In-ho walked through the double doors, his breath caught in his throat. The theatre certainly did not disappoint his love for old architecture.

The large barrel vaulted ceilings were beautifully ornamented and adorned with intricately painted designs. Gorgeous crown molding edged the ceiling and stretched to the floor. And a large crystal chandelier rested as the centerpiece, warmly lit and inviting.

In-ho took his seat, a smile evident on his lips as he sighed contently. However, he hoped his cat wasn’t too worried about his whereabouts. Maybe she could come along next time? She is a very sophisticated cat, after all.

As the chandelier and house lights began to dim, the crowd became quiet with anticipation and excitement. And it would be dishonest to say that In-ho wasn’t a little excited as well.

He looked to his left at the woman sitting next to him. She was a small elderly lady with a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were filled with excitement as she scanned through the pamphlet, a wide smile plastered on her face.

She wore a vintage necklace around her neck, layered with pearls. In-ho smiled, it was nice to see someone who also had a knack for old taste.

The soft notes of Swan Lake began to play, and In-ho watched as the curtains opened, revealing the beautifully decorated stage. Large trees with hanging vines arched over the set, greenery and flowers blending into the painted backdrop.

A foggy mist flooded the stage as dancers began to move elegantly across. But the lead had yet to make an appearance.

In-ho watched rather impatiently, and failed to notice the woman next to him lean in, “Right now, the prince is going hunting with his crossbow. But he will find that the white swan has turned into a beautiful woman, and has fallen under a curse.” The old woman pointed slightly to the prince, her voice whispering just loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes trained on the prince as he danced with his crossbow, “Thank you. I must look confused.”

The old lady gave a small laugh, “I used to dance for this company, i’ll never miss an opportunity to explain the ballet.”

In-ho watches as she subtly mimics the prince's moves, her hands moving elegantly in front of her. Her eyes were closed, the sound of the music bringing emotion to her face.

Her eyes flick open as the music changes softly, “Look.” Her eyes lighting up as she nods slightly to the stage.

In-ho watches as you finally take the stage, fluttering your feet as you move elegantly toward the prince. Your hands held high above your head, moving gracefully as you bourrée.

He watched as your back muscles contracted, moving as if you had wings. His eyes trained down to your legs and to your pointe shoes, watching as you danced with ease.

Your white feathered skirt moved along with you, the bodice elegantly framing you perfectly. The feathered piece in your hair catches In-ho’s attention, causing him to study your face.

That poster was nothing compared to your beauty.

You held a soft look, but In-ho didn’t fail to notice the focus that caused your eyebrows to furrow slightly. Your movements were soft and graceful, your demeanor innocent and melancholic.

You were perfect as the white swan.

You were perfect.

He wondered if you were just as innocent as you portray yourself to be, “God, she’s beautiful.”

The elderly woman hummed in agreement as she watched In-ho’s gaze remain sharp on the white swan, an all-knowing smile spread across her lips.

As the ballet continued it seemed that the rest of the audience had disappeared. In-ho felt as if you were only dancing for him. No one else.

He swore you looked at him a few times, him being the focus point of your graceful turns.

And when you transitioned into the black swan, all thoughts in In-ho’s head became dark.

Oh, how he liked this side of you.

Your movements were sharp, determined, and seductive. And he found himself adjusting in his seat as his slacks became increasingly tight. You were so close to him. Just a few feet from his touch as you danced on stage. He could take you right now. He could fuck you, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

And as you leaped on the stage, the white swan jumping to her death, In-ho felt a tear slip from his eye. You were magnificent.

The audience filed out of the theatre, fanning themselves with their pamphlets and discussing the ballet. You had received a standing ovation, and In-ho took pride in being the first one to stand and clap.

He had finally caught your attention. And when you locked eyes with him as you bowed, you felt your brain turn to mush.

He was handsome. Like, extremely handsome.

His face was perfectly chiseled. His eyes crinkled as he flashed a perfect smile, his hair slightly falling in front of his face and covering his dark eyes.

You didn’t blink once as you remained under his gaze, and it wasn’t until another dancer pulled you up that you realized you were bowing for far too long.

You avoided his eye contact as you walked off, embarrassed he had made you turn into putty just by his stare.

And as In-ho exited the theatre, he took his time lingering by the lamp post. He’d secretly hoped to see you leave.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he did see you. Maybe he would compliment you, or ask you a meaningless question. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d push you against the lamppost, and let his desire consume you.

He’d just wait a little bit longer.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

30 minutes.

The woman from behind the ticket booth locked the door as she brought down the metal gate, “Excuse me, did the woman who danced as the white swan leave yet?”

She turned around smacking her gum, “Yeah. Why?” She sized him up, placing a hand on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.

In-ho felt his face flush, “I was just going to compliment her.” He put his cold hands in the pockets of his coat, shifting his weight onto his other foot.

“Yeah well,” The woman smacks her gum as she walks up towards In-ho, handing him a flier, “They have open practice every Friday. Tickets are only 10,000 won.”

He took the flier from her hand, folding it and sliding it into his pocket, “Thanks.” She nodded her head and walked past him, slipping into her jacket.

In-ho turned and started his walk to his apartment only a block away. When he arrived, he heard the familiar sound of meowing by his front door.

And as he opened the door, he came face to face with his cat waiting on the couch, “I’m sorry Elisabeth, but I’m too tired for a movie tonight.”

She gave an annoyed meow before reluctantly following him into his room, hopping onto the pillow beside his. In-ho got dressed in his pajamas, ready for another dreamless night as he slipped into the sheets next to Elisabeth.

But this time, it wasn't dreamless.

In fact, he had dreamed a very vivid dream.

He had dreamt of you.

And as In-ho woke up the next morning, his hand immediately went to his nightstand, picking up the flier.

It seems that the pretty ballerina has stolen his heart.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Plié! Ron de jambe, retiré! Good!" You held your arms in front of you, your right leg coming up at a bend, "Pas de chat, écarté! Don't rush it, Fiona!"

Your ballet teacher weaved between you and the other students, her tight bun sitting perfectly on her pointed head, "Développé, demi-pointe! No! Not pointe, demi pointe!"

Her thick French accent bellowed throughout the theatre, "Good y/n! Très bien!" A wide smile painted your lips as you continued your dance, your friend Fiona rolling her eyes at your praise. You giggled as you went into second, your arms outstretched to the side.

"Well done! Take a water break and stretch, we'll take five." You brought your hands to your knees, leaning over slightly as you caught your breath.

Fiona dramatically flopped on her back, a hand coming to her forehead as she breathed heavily, "I've died, she's killed me." You tossed her water bottle into her hand with a laugh as you sat next to her, your eyes scanning the theatre.

Familiar faces met your eyes. Elderly couples, former dancers, and little kids with their moms. Oh! And the man who you haven't stopped thinking about.

Wait.

You hit Fiona's shoulder hard, not taking your eyes off him, "Fiona. Fiona, look." She sat up, holding her shoulder as her eyes trailed to where you were subtly pointing.

"Oh, it's the hot dilf." Fiona took a drink from her bottle, watching as In-ho looked around while taking in the architecture.

You slapped her shoulder again, "Shut up! What if he hears you?" You get up from the ground, pulling Fiona up with you and tossing your water bottle back into your bag.

She followed suit, taking one last drink before tossing it in her own, "First off, stop hitting me. It's abuse." You rolled your eyes as you both took your spot by the barre, "Second, he's in the back corner of the theatre, he's not hearing shit. Except for our teacher's constant yelling."

You didn't respond, instead, you continued looking at him. His black turtle neck sweater hugged his biceps perfectly, and you didn't fail to notice his empty finger where a ring would sit.

"Okay! Lets continue! Tendu, plié! Ron de jambe, plié!"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It had been two months since In-ho first started spending his Fridays pining over you.

Each Friday, he would come home, change into an outfit he had dry-cleaned and pressed, feed Elisabeth, and head to the Theatre. He would take his spot in the far left corner, and watch as you danced and laughed with your friends.

He found himself looking forward to Fridays. Which is strange, because he's never looked forward to anything before. Well, besides the games. But he had been so focused on you, that he had fallen behind on his work. Something he'd never done before.

You plagued his mind.

He dreams of you. When he's asleep and awake. He'd find himself walking by the Theatre on other days when you were practicing, hoping to see a glimpse of you.

He found himself listening to Etta James and Nat King Cole more often than not. 'A Sunday Kind Of Love' and 'Unforgettable' filing his apartment as he cooked his dinners. 'My Fair Lady' and 'Gone With The Wind' replacing his classic mystery movies.

He even found himself stopping by flower boutiques, smelling the tulips and Orchids. He wonders what your favorite flower is. Perhaps it is Lilies, the flower that represents innocence and purity.

He wondered a lot if you were a virgin. Often imagining the feeling of your body under his large one late at night when he can't sleep, and when his hand finds itself under his pants.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you didn't even know it.

Vice Versa, you found yourself looking forward to Fridays as well.

It was the only day you could see the stranger who you had been thinking about constantly.

You liked his style, the way he carried himself with a confidence that intimidated you. His large frame towered over everyone, and he stood out from the crowd. He was perfect. It was as if god himself sculpted him with his own hands.

And oh my god.

You were down bad.

Fiona constantly teased you about it. Making fun of how you stopped wearing your loose cover-up, "Im just hot, that's all Fiona. It's warm in here." You lied. And Fiona was obviously aware of that.

You started offering to stay late with your teacher and help clean up, hoping to catch the stranger before he left. But your teacher always insisted you should go home and rest, and who were you to disobey her.

You've always been perfect. At school, at dance, at everything. When auditions came for Swan Lake, there was no question in anyone's mind about who would get the lead.

But since opening night, things have been slightly different. You often got distracted during practice, your eyes always finding the man in the back corner. You started falling out of your turns, forgetting to bring your pointe shoes, and, worse of all, you had been forgetting to point your toes.

And here you were. Walking to the center of the stage, ready to run through your variation in front of everyone. It was an easy variation, but the end was complicated. You had to do several pirouettes, which you have always been good at. But today you decided to test yourself.

You knew your teacher was becoming increasingly disappointed in you, it plagued your every thought. So, as you spun perfectly, you decided to see how many pirouettes you could perform.

17, 18, 19, 20.

Your leg is wobbling, but you choose to ignore it.

21, 22, 23-

You hear Fiona call your name as your foot slips out of pointe, twisting as you fall on top of it, "Oh my god!" The sickening sound of your ankle cracking causes your heart to drop. The stinging feeling of tears replaced by the overwhelming pain that was now shooting up your leg.

Everyone huddles around you as the teacher runs to call an ambulance, but Fiona kneels at your side, "I know this isn't the right time but, the dilf is running over here right now."

You close your eyes, trying to control your rapid breathing. You wished the stage would open around you and swallow you whole, just put you out of your misery.

In-ho jumps with ease onto the stage, his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbow, "Move." He pushes past the dancers huddling over you and grabs your face.

Your eyes flick open at the feeling of warm hands pressed against your cheeks. Oh my god, he was holding your face. Your heart fluttered but you didn't notice, you were too worried about the fact that your ankle was bent the wrong way.

In-ho's hand softly brushes over your ankle, causing you to wince. At first, he's skeptical about touching you. Was it too fast? Too sudden? Too bold?

But he didn't have time to think it over as he put his strong arms under you, lifting you gently as he stood. Fiona watched with a smirk on her face as she saw shock fill your eyes, his biceps flexing as he pulled you close to his chest.

Without a word, In-ho steps down from the stage and carries you through the exit, "I have an ambulance coming!" Your teacher ran after him yelling, her typically neat bun somewhat loose and frizzy now.

In-ho motions to his pocket and Fiona responds, grabbing his car key and unlocking his Mercedez-benz, "It will take too long. I'll drive her."

For a split second, you catch his eye, and you could've sworn to god your pain disappeared for a moment. And if it were a different circumstance, In-ho would kiss you. He would kiss you right here with you in his arms.

But the shared look was short-lived as he very carefully sets you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt gently. Your ballet teacher leans down to the window, "Don't worry! Fiona can dance for you!"

Your heart shattered.

And tears began to flood. You ignored In-ho's words of reassurance as he took off, speeding to the hospital. The drive was quiet except for your soft cries. And In-ho wanted nothing more than to cradle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Im sorry im getting your car dirty." You looked at the tear-stained headrest you laid against, wiping your sore eyes with the back of your hand.

In-ho cuts a car off as he turns, ignoring the beeps from the angry driver, "It's okay. I have another one." The subtle money brag wasn't missed by you. In-ho just wanted to impress you.

"What are you? Like a CEO or something?" You turned to face him, giving a pitiful sniffle as he gave another sharp turn.

He chuckled, and you felt your heart beat faster. Was it because of the adrenaline? Or was it because the man whom you've become obsessed with is quite literally acting like your night in shining armor, "Im... Im a game show host."

You nodded, an impressive smile growing on your face, "That's cool. Im y/n by the way."

He flashes a smile, the same smile from the night you first saw him, and a blush creeps up on your tear-stained cheeks, "You're sitting there, with a fucked up ankle, and you're making small talk?"

You suddenly feel embarrassed. He's just some random guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more. "Sorry. Just trying to distract myself."

In-ho frowns. Did he say the wrong thing? His grip tightens on the steering wheel, "No! Don't be sorry. If I'm being honest, I've been dying to know your name."

His eyes flick to you before looking back in front of him, "Im Hwang In-ho." A small smile creeps onto his lips as he pulls to a stop in front of the ER.

"Well, Mr. Hwang, it's nice to meet you."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Well, it looks like you have a fracture." You give a long exasperated sigh as the Doctor holds up the X-rays, "The fibula is fractured below the level of the syndesmosis, which is the joint between the tibia and fibula."

You look at In-ho, who, for some reason, seems more stressed than you do, "What's the healing process like? Will she need surgery?" Your head snapped to the doctor at the mention of surgery. Surgery for dancers is like a death sentence.

No. More. Dancing.

"Fractures like these are considered stable, meaning that they are unlikely to worsen with correct treatment and management. You'll just need to wear a boot for a while." The doctor noticed how your concerned look didn't falter, and gave a sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder, "You can still dance."

The breath you were holding escapes your lips as you feel a heavy weight fall off your shoulders, "Thank you so much." The doctor rubs your shoulder before leaving, instructing the nurse to fit you for a boot.

In-ho watches as you close your eyes, a smile resting on your face. He cocked his head, how could you be so beautiful in a moment like this? His eyes take a minute to trail down your body, taking you in, something he's grown fond of doing.

Your hair is a mess, your cheeks are red and tear-stained, your ankle looks like a snapped twig, and you're picking at your cuticles. But god.

You are perfect.

Just as beautiful now as you were months ago.

An unfamiliar feeling has taken over his chest ever since he saw you. A tightening, warm feeling that he hasn't felt in years. At first, he ignored it. Maybe it was just heartburn? But as it progressed, he got worried. The next thing you know a doctor is laughing in his face.

Calling it 'love'.

In-ho immediately left after he heard that, making sure to write a very passive-aggressive review on Yelp. What doctor diagnosed a patient with 'being in love'?

In-ho was not in love.

...

...

Right?

It wasn't until he watched 'Funny Face' that he realized the estranged doctor was correct. The moment Fred Astaire saw Aubrey Hepburn and was immediately captivated by her beauty, he knew it was true.

He didn't care that he was more than twenty years older than you, or that he had bigger things to worry about, all he cared about was you.

And that made him so confused.

You had managed to captivate his heart, soul, and body. And he felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. So as he saw you look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he couldn't help what happened next.

He stood from his chair, taking large steps towards your frame. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him stand between your legs, careful not to hit your ankle.

His big hands reach down and grab your face, slamming your lips into his own. Your eyes grow wide, confusion flashing across your face before slowly giving in, pulling his head down lower.

His touch was gentle, the opposite of his kiss. His hands softly caressed your red cheeks, while his lips hungrily chased after your own.

You tugged at the baby hairs that rested on the back of his neck, desire and hunger feeding off you as he slipped his tongue into your pretty mouth. A low growl escaped his swollen lips, and you felt arousal begin to pool between your thighs.

You whine as he removes his hand from your face and steps back, crossing his arms. His gaze has always been intimidating. But now that he's seen you fall on your ass, cry, and melt under his touch all in one day, it is much more intimidating.

You've been vulnerable in front of him. Something you could never do before. But you didn't care if he saw your flaws, you were perfect to him.

He saw a future when he looked at you. He saw a family, something he had longed for many years ago. He saw hope, love, and promise.

He saw you.

Beautiful, perfect, irresistible you.

And as he looked at you, only one question entered his mind.

"Do you want to meet my cat?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

a/n: chat. its 2 am. but i am DETERMINED to post this. i just love you guys sm mwah mwah. also, wasn't in a smut mood. still getting used to writing smut LMAO.

also random disclaimer: i have never done ballet. so if any terms are wrong or if my spelling is trash PLS LMK!

@bohemiandelilah @menabuser16 @verouys @speedymagazinewhispers @metalbaby2 @nellabear @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers

[angellic4l]

thank you’s - s.r

in which; sunshine!bau!reader is demeaned by an officer on a case and season2!spencer sticks up for her.

content: fem!reader, reader described as having ‘girly’ flair, sexism, mention of blood/bloodstain, mainly fluff, protective spencer, and i think that’s it but lmk.

a/n: i just rawdog it and write on tumblr as a draft so i have 0 clue how many words there are. also, thank you all so much for the love on my first fic, i adore you all. these are my babies now and i hope you love them.

Warm sunlight warms the skin on your back while you’re crouched down at the latest crime scene, examining a bloodstain on the concrete floor. Despite it being November, it’s still considerably warm in Texas, a big contrast to Virginia weather for sure.

Despite official policies about dress code and such, you’re still a fun person, so you like to add your own girly flair to the professional attire you sport almost every single day. It doesn’t harm anybody, it doesn’t break any rules, and it’s cute.

However, pair the cute flair you add to your clothes with your enthusiastic, optimistic, ‘happy go lucky’ personality, and the fact that you’re a woman, and it causes people to make their own assumptions - typically sexist ones.

After doing bloodstain analysis on the red splatter that coats part of the parking lot’s floor, you go to stand up from your crouching position. Mid motion, you spot a small note on the floor, tucked under the wheel of a car. Crime scene analysis requires everything and anything to be processed, and the unsub has yet to make contact with authorities, so you make the decision that it’s worth looking at before motioning for Spencer to come over after seeing him somewhat idle.

He begins to make his way over from the other end of the parking lot as you stay crouching, waiting for him to come over because you don’t have gloves on. What you don’t see after you turn back around is an officer, an average sized male with blonde hair who appears to be slightly older than you, approaching you at the very same time.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, workin’ for the FBI? You sure yer pretty little brain can handle allathat, darlin’?” A man’s voice; a thick, Texan drawl, coated with a somewhat flirty tone, yet at the very same time, it’s seeping with disdain - ambivalence.

Unfortunately, you’re used to that tone of voice and can recognise it all too well. It’s not going to be the first time you hear it, and it certainly won’t be the last, no matter how progressive times are or how you express yourself.

Standing up, spinning on your heels, ready to give the - officer? that’s poor - a rehearsed response to ensure your own safety, yet keep a boundary, you see Spencer stood behind the average sized, blonde haired man that you don’t recognise. He’s giving the officer one of his looks, his face saying everything, as usual, despite the officer not being able to see it.

Spencer’s fully aware his face is saying everything without it coming out of his lips, he’s completely baffled at how someone could say something so demeaning to anybody, much less you. You’re probably the sweetest person he’s ever met, always so supportive and enthusiastic. He feels protective of you. He doesn’t even realise he does until the words are out.

“She’s perfectly capable of doing her job, if not more so than other male agents, not that it concerns you whatsoever. And I’m perfectly capable of reporting a sexist comment to your supervisor.”

Spencer’s tone is defensive, no, protective, and you can feel heat rushing to your cheeks. It’s the bare minimum - sticking up for someone to a discriminatory comment - and you know that. It’s more so that Spencer hates confrontation, but he’s doing it, and it’s for you. Thank God for the Texas weather masking your fluster as warmth.

With the threat of his supervisor being involved, the officer offers a mumbled apology before walking away, almost as if his ‘tail’ is tucked between his legs, like a scolded puppy. A soft laugh elicits from your lips at the sight. Once the sexist officer has gone, Spencer’s eyes find you, his expression changing to one of concern.

“Hey, you okay? That was demeaning,” the brunette offers, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck, a habit he has, typically more often around you.

“‘M okay. Used to it, unfortunately. Thank you, though, Spence. That was sweet; I know how much you hate confrontation,” you say, giving him a soft smile as you do.

It’s Spencer’s turn to blush now, you calling his actions sweet and that soft smile - god, that smile - flushing his cheeks a light pink while his hand still rubs at the back of his neck.

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me. Anyway, you called me over here. What did you find?”

With his question, you’re quickly reminded of why you did call him over, before the sexist comment and mini confrontation that’d ensued with the officer’s presence, but there’s something you want to do first.

“I don’t need to thank you, but I want to,” you reassure him before stepping forward, moving closer to him, leaning up on your tiptoes, turning your head to face Spencer’s cheek, and slowly placing a chaste kiss to his already pink cheek.

Spencer’s eyes widen before they close, realising what you’re doing and wanting to savour the feeling of your lips on his skin. Unfortunately for him, the brief contact is gone just as quickly as it had started. He opens his eyes again and moves his right hand from the back of his neck to touch his cheek, realising what he did in front of you, and acting as if he was wiping away your lip gloss stain.

“Oh, uh.. thanks. Anyway, the, uhm, you called me over to see…?”

Silently, secretly, he wills the feeling of your lips on his skin to never leave his memory, not even when he’s old and grey, and maybe, just maybe, he wishes that you’ll be by his side when he is.

[arrenjo]

Summary: You meet Jack Abbot during a terrible shift as a nurse in labor and delivery.

Notes: After a really shitty shift, this is my coping mechanism. All similarities are coincidences, this is not an actual patient/situation that I have had but rather a mix of many. This is a separate storyline from the Robby series!!

Trigger/content warning: perinatal/intrapartum loss, loss of a child, infant loss (trying to tag/mention words appropriately so that people who have it filtered don’t see the post; the content warning only applies to the first few paragraphs)

You needed air, you needed out of the unit. Your chest felt heavy like you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t lose your composure right here. Ultrasound techs, residents, other nurses from the postpartum unit, and your coworkers were all gathered around in an attempt to debrief what had just happened.

You were a part of the worst day of someone’s life, the day they lost a child, and that always weighed so heavily on you, but this one, this one didn’t make sense. Baby was fine until she wasn’t, you rushed her mom to the OR to get the baby out, but the NICU team worked her for an hour and never got a blip of a pulse. A complete concealed abruption was the cause.

“Need a minute,” You said suddenly and got up out of your chair and headed out of the unit, you felt eyes on you but you didn’t care. You took long, quick strides towards the staircase and up the stairwell onto the roof, your vision getting blurrier by the second. By the time you were crossing the roof, tears were streaming down your face. You ducked under the railing and sat parallel to the roof’s edge, pulling your knees to your chest. The cold air stung your lungs as you sobbed, able to let go now that there was no one around. You don’t know exactly how long you cried for, but when the tears stopped flowing you rested your head on your knees, looking out over the skyline. Your back hurt and you were starting to shiver, it was 4 am in Pittsburgh in November, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You contemplated staying up here until your shift was over at 7, but surely someone would come looking by then.

You didn’t so much as move as the door to the roof opened, you were composed enough now to deal with your coworkers. You stayed in the same position, you weren’t ready to go back in just yet.

“Must be that kind of night,” A man said from behind you, leaning forward on the railing from the opposite side. Not a voice you were expecting. You turned to look at him briefly. He was older, salt and pepper curls and a black scrub top mostly hidden by a black zip up hoodie, you turned back to the skyline.

“A really fucking shitty one?” You countered

“A really fucking shitty one.” He agreed.

“Labor and delivery isn’t supposed to be shitty,” You said, not to him or to anyone in particular, really to just get it out of your system.

“Yeah, but when it is, it’s really shitty…” The man trailed and you were both silent for a moment. “How long have you worked L&D?” He asked.

“Five years. It’s been sad at times, for sure, but what just happened literally doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Your voice broke on ‘sense’ and you laid your forehead on your knees, willing yourself to keep it together. You had the patient volumes, you had seen some real shit, but this one was hard. You felt warmth over your back and arms, he had taken his jacket off and draped it over you.

“I’m really okay,” You said, starting to shrug his jacket off.

“I can see you shivering from here.” He retorted. You paused and closed your eyes, taking another deep breath. His jacket was warm and it smelled heavenly, it was comforting. Coupled with the fact that you didn’t have the capacity to fight with anyone right now, you stayed silent. He leaned on the railing for several more minutes then ducked under the railing and sat down in front of you, your feet inches from his thigh. He stretched his feet out to almost touch the edge of the roof. He leaned back on one of the poles of the rail and he was staring at you when you finally looked back up at him.

“You alright?” He asked. You just barely nodded your head.

“I will be.” You rested your chin on your knees, taking in the man in front of you. You were both silent for a beat, the hum of the city a soft soundtrack from the roof.

“I’m Jack,” He stuck his hand out and introduced himself. You gave him a halfhearted smile and introduced yourself, shaking his hand.

“Thanks for not letting me freeze, Jack. Where do you work?” You could see his badge clipped on the neckline of his scrub top but couldn’t quite make it out in the dim lighting.

“ED,” He responded. You let out a soft laugh.

“Props, I could never.” You said, shaking your head. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Eh, it’s not all bad…” He trailed off, looking out to the skyline. He cocked his head to the side after a moment.

“Just most of it.” He deadpanned. You let out a small chuckle at his crack and he smiled at you.

“Gonna go back in?” He asked, nodding towards the door. You sighed and sat up to stretch.

“We could just hide out here until 7?” He suggested, pulling himself up to stand, you laughed.

“Though I’ve truly considered it, I figure it’ll probably be in my best interest to go back in at some point. Can’t give away our hiding spot, and they’ll definitely come looking.” You said with a slightly more relaxed smile. This night sucked, but the company you were in helped. He was sweet, genuinely concerned.

“Of course, gotta protect the hiding spot.” He said with a small grin. His face changed, a look of genuineness washed over his features as he extended a hand to help you up from the concrete rooftop.

“I’m sorry your night sucks.” He said, his voice soft. You gave him a tight lipped smile and took his hand, pulling yourself up. “Anything I can do for you?” He asked. This man was genuinely so sweet and seemed to care a lot about someone he had just met. The genuine kindness made your stomach flutter.

“No, you’ve actually already helped a lot, thank you.” You said with a small smile. “I’m sorry your night sucks too, but it was nice to meet you.” You added.

“It’s been a pleasure, come hide with me again, yeah?” He asked with a smirk, his tone almost playful.

“For sure, but under better circumstances next time.” You said with a grin and gave him a wink. You let your smile fall and let seriousness fall over your features again.

“I hope your night gets better.” You said softly.

“You too,” he said with a tight lipped smile.

After a moment, you ducked under the railing and started towards the door, turning to look back at him one more time. You caught him watching you walk away and smiled, immediately turning back around and ducking your head so he didn’t see you blush. You tucked your hair behind your ear and opened the door to the stairwell, heading back to your unit.

By the time you swiped your badge to enter the unit, the slew of people had dispersed, which you were grateful for.

“You good?” One of your coworkers asked as you passed her in the hallway. You nodded,

“Better, thanks.” You said with a small smile. “Hey, do you know wh-“

The shrill sound of the staff assist alarm cut you off. You spun on your heel and sprinted in the direction of the alarm. When you got to the patient’s room, she was obviously post-seizure and disoriented. She was combative and screaming about someone trying to kill her.

Two nurses were working on putting her in soft restraints, you took the place of another younger nurse who was frozen in place, asking her to go get medication to help calm the patient down and to call the doctor. You turned to look at the patient when you felt a sharp pain around your eye socket. The patient had slipped out of one of the restraints and you were at perfect height for her elbow to collide with your eye in the midst of her flailing. You staggered backwards, your vision immediately blurry, and fell to the floor.

“Fuck,” you groaned, your hand reaching to cover your eye. You touched something wet and looked at your fingers. Blood.

“Oh, shit.” you heard, and in a flurry, everyone was around you. You were put into a wheelchair and wheeled out of the room. Someone at some point handed you an ice pack. You hissed as you put it to your eye.

“You have to go down to the ER,” someone said from behind you.

“I’ll take her,” another person volunteered.

“No, I’m fine.” You objected. Your head hurt like a bitch but other than that, you were good.

“I already called a code medic, they’re on the way” Another voice chimed in.

“Oh fuck me,” You groaned and leaned your head back. “I’m really fine, tell them to go away.” You insisted, closing your eyes.

“Oh, I’m gonna pretend my feelings aren’t hurt,” a familiar voice said. Your eyes snapped open to Jack crouching in front of you, already assessing. Two things dawned on you in that moment: you were still wearing his jacket, and he was a doctor.

Nothing was wrong with being a doctor, but they usually weren’t as kind or as caring as Jack had been to you on the roof. Most of the doctors you worked with were real dicks to the nurses.

“Lemme see,” He said softly, gently taking your hand with the ice pack away from your eye. His thumb brushed your brow bone and you flinched.

“You’ve got a cut that I think needs a couple of stitches but I can’t tell for sure. I need to get you to the ED to clean you up and look with better light,” He said. “You also gotta have a head CT, that was a hard hit.”

“I’m really fine,” You said, he shook his head.

“Don’t fight me on this,” He warned, “Let me make sure you’re good.” He shined a pen light in your eye and you flinched again. He raised an eyebrow at you, the look on his face told you everything you needed to know.

“Okay, okay. Can I at least walk?” You asked, he laughed and unlocked your wheelchair, already pushing you to the ED.

“Does this answer your question?” He said as he continued walking and pushing your chair.

“Don’t make me roll my eyes, it hurts.” You said with a small smile. He pushed your chair into the elevator and swiped his badge for the ED.

“I didn’t mean to steal your jacket, I honestly forgot I had it on until I saw you,” You filled the silence. Not being able to see his face was making it hard to gauge his reaction. He sighed.

“I wasn’t gonna ask for it back, though you could have used that to see me again instead of taking an elbow to the eye,” He ribbed.

“Oh, yeah, should have thought of that first,” You said sarcastically. He wheeled you into a room and offered a hand for you to stand up. You took it and sat on the stretcher. He turned the overhead light on. You shielded your eyes.

“Jesus Christ,”

“Sorry, give me just a sec, I need to get sutures and lidocaine.” He said, your eyes widened.

“You weren’t kidding about the stitches?” He chuckled and shook his head, starting out of the room. He turned to look back at you in the doorframe.

“Not at all. Keep the ice pack there, I’ll be back in a few. I’ll put you next for a head CT. Any chance you’re pregnant?” He asked, you scoffed.

“Not at all,” You responded. He tapped the doorframe and nodded, disappearing into the hallway. Minutes passed and he was back with a handful of supplies. He sat down on a stool at the side of the bed and laid the head of stretcher back. He set up his workspace and drew up medicine.

“Lidocaine stings like a bitch,” he said. You nodded, closing your eyes.

“Be gentle,” You warned, he chuckled.

“One, two, three, little pin prick and lots of burning.” You did your best not to flinch but hissed as the stinging started.

“Motherfucker…” You winced.

“It will be better in a second.” He said, taking the needle out. A few seconds passed and you felt him touch the skin around your eye gently, you jumped at the initial contact. “Just relax,” He soothed. “I’ve got you.”

Jack set to work on the sutures, it only took about four before he cut the thread.

“All done. CT is ready for you,” He said, sitting the head of the stretcher up and offering you his hand again. You took it and sat down in the wheelchair.

“Now I’m starting to think you’re the one that wants to spend time with me,” You teased. “Hey, do you accompany all your patients to CT or am I just special?” He handed you your ice pack back with an eye roll and pushed you out of the room in the wheelchair.

“You went through such great lengths to see me again I figure you might as well get what you wanted.” He said playfully with a squeeze of your shoulder. You put your hand on top of his as he wheeled you down the hall.

You took a sharp left into CT and he locked the wheels, helping you up onto the table.

“Thank you,” You said softly. He nodded.

“I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

The whole scan only took a few minutes, he wheeled your chair back into the hospital room and helped you sit.

“It’s clear, but you need to go home and rest. You need to stay home for at least 48 hours. You probably have a concussion. Do you have someone that can come pick you up?” He asked. You chewed on your lip and shook your head.

“I can uber?” You asked. He shook his head at you.

“Not a chance, I can take you home.” He said. You laughed.

“Seriously, I get off in half an hour anyway. Stay here, I don’t want you driving.” He pressed. Your head really hurt and you honestly weren’t sure if you had the reaction time to be able to drive in Pittsburgh morning traffic. You nodded once, laying back on the stretcher and closing your eyes.

“I’ll be back in a few and we can go,” He said, flicking the lights off. You weren’t sure how long he was gone, you had dozed off. He woke you by gently rubbing your arm.

“Hey, you ready?” He asked softly. When you opened your eyes, he was staring at you. His eyes full of tenderness and caring, he helped you off the stretcher. He linked his arm with yours as you walked with him.

“Careful, Dr. Abbot. People are gonna get the wrong idea,” You teased with a smirk.

“Just to steady you, can’t have you falling.” He said with a wink. Your stomach did a flip and your cheeks flushed. Headache be damned, this hot ass doctor was flirting with you. You got to the physician’s parking lot where his truck sat and he opened your door and helped you climb in. He started the truck and handed you his phone.

“Type in your address,” he said, putting the truck in reverse. You chewed on your bottom lip.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much? What about my car?” You started to worry. Not that Ubers weren’t plentiful in Pittsburgh, but it seemed pretty out of his way to do this for you.

“I don’t mind, I’m only a phone call away if you need me for anything.” He said. You nodded and typed in your address on his GPS app on his phone and handed it back to him. He took one look at the screen and let out a snort.

“Yeah I think I can handle that.” He said with a smirk. He closed the app off of the phone and started to drive. He wasn’t using the directions and seemed familiar with the surroundings.

“You live close by?” You asked after a few minutes of driving. He nodded.

“You could say that,” He answered. “What apartment number?” He asked as he pulled into a space and put the truck in park.

“417,” You said, gathering your things. He nodded, the corner of his mouth tugging up and got out, rounding the truck and coming to your door. He took your backpack from you and slung it over his shoulder, offering his hand to help you out. You took his hand and slid out of the truck, wincing as your feet hit the ground.

“Thank you for doing this,” You said again.

“Anything to help a neighbor out,” He quipped. You did a double take.

“You live here too?” You asked, your eyes wide. He let out a laugh.

“Not just here,” He responded as he linked his arm with yours again, walking you to the elevator. He pressed the ‘up’ button and the elevator started to descend.

“How’s your head?” He asked, you sighed.

“Honestly? Really fuckin’ hurts,” You grimaced as the loud ‘ding’ of the elevator signaled that it was at the ground floor. Jack stepped on the elevator with you.

“I have Tylenol though, I’ll take some when I get in, hang on, let me get my keys,” you said, unzipping the backpack that Jack had slung over his shoulder. You dug your keys out of the bag.

“So, you gonna tell me which apartment is yours?” You asked, getting off the elevator when it stopped at your floor and walking down the hall to your apartment. He chuckled and shook his head.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” He said.

“Try me,”

“That one,” He pointed at the door marked ‘414’ as you passed it. You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him,

“You’re fucking with me,” You said, studying the look on his face. “There’s no way, I would have seen you before,”

“Okay yeah I’m fucking with you,” You rolled your eyes and scoffed, turning away from him and continuing to walk towards your apartment.

“But you’re still not going to believe me when I tell you.” He said.

“I’m not playing that game twice,” You said as you unlocked your door.

“317,” He said. You spun on your heel as you pushed the door open.

“You live directly below me?” You asked skeptically.

“Honest to God,” He said, fishing his keys out of his pocket and showing you the key engraved with ‘317’. You laughed and looked up at him.

“Do you hate me, just a little bit?” You asked, still in disbelief.

“I’ve honestly never been annoyed, more concerned?”

“I do drop things quite often, sorry,” You admitted sheepishly. You held the door open for him and he walked inside. “It’s kind of a mess, work has been kicking my ass lately,”

“I get that,” He said, taking in your apartment.

“Thank you for everything you did for me, Jack.” You said softly, taking half a step closer to him. He locked eyes with you and nodded.

“Anytime. Can I put my number in your phone, in case you need anything?” He asked.

“That’s incredibly sweet but you don’t have to,” You said, taking your phone out of your back pocket and unlocking it.

“I know, but I want to,” He said, taking your phone out of your hand and typing in his number. “Though I guess you could stomp really loud and I would hear it,” He added, handing your phone back to you with a smirk.

“We can figure out something about your car later this week, or I can drive you to work whenever you’re well enough to go back?” He offered. You nodded.

“That sounds good, thank you again.” You said. He nodded.

“I’m just a phone call away, or a good stomp, if you need me,” He said with a wink, turning to leave. You laughed as he walked out the door.

“Have a good day, Jack.” You said, holding the door open with one foot.

“You too, get some rest. Call me if you need anything,” He said, turning to walk away. You closed the door behind him, and then realized you still had his jacket on.

You contemplated opening the door again, but you opted to keep it for now, he could get it back later— right?

[weiweific]

mark fic recs ₊✩‧₊

finally going through all my likes to put together a comprehensive of all of my fave mark fics! as a result, there's older and newer fics here - enjoy!!! (also most of these are smut lol)

(m) smut | (f) fluff | (a) angst

one shots

surviving no nut november by @domjaehyun | m | 28.8k one of my fave fics!!!, ft. haechan, college au

pretty little weapon by @lisired | m, slight a | 25.7k undercover cop!mark, crime/gang au author summary: A lifetime worth of adversity had brought you to Bloodlust. You joined them to escape your history, but with Mark Lee - an undercover narcotics agent with a secret to keep - comes the threat of being forced to confront your past. Old wounds are opened, but scars heal.

pretty boy by @ncteez | m | 9.3k nerdy & shy mark, college au author summary: Mark’s favorite thing to do is sit alone at the library and enjoy the knowledge that his university offers. In contrast, your favorite thing to do is go to parties and enjoy as much chaos as possible. However, upon realizing your grades have dropped drastically due to this lifestyle, you have no choice but to approach Mark for help. or the one where your new favorite thing to do is seduce the most inexperienced man you’ve ever met and watch how desperate he gets for you.

graphic by @hausofwoo | m, f | 6.6k college!au, spiderman obsessed mark!! <3 author summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you’ve even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.

on edge by @ncteez | m | 22.5k infidelity, ft. boyfriend doyoung author summary: Dating the strict, well-liked, and loving Doyoung came with its hurdles. Normally, the two of you could communicate and work through the downsides, but what if the newest downside of the relationship is learning that his little brother, Mark, has a bit of a thing for you?

flipside by @yutaholic | m | 21k underground racer au author summary: When your father moves you overseas for his job, you are determined to hate it until you discover the illegal street races happening after nightfall. Boys are quick to vie for your attention, but none catch your eye like Mark, who takes you on the ride of a lifetime.

with a little pixie dust by @sehunniepotwrites | f | 11.9k cutest best friends to lovers au author summary: There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)

watch me by @sluttyten | m | 14.6k neighbours au, voyeurism author summary: you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

go with it by @seouljazzbar | m | 6k best friends to lovers au author summary: “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

bad habits. by @mrkis | m, slight a? | 6.5k slight toxic behaviour, dealer!mark author summary: ❝you know you're my favourite.❞

this is (not) easy by @mrkis | m | 13.2k friends to lovers, fwb situation author summary: getting into a friends with benefits situation with your all time best friend was so (not) easy

nervously in love by @angelwonie | m, f | 5.2k established relationship author summary: despite his very obvious sexual attraction towards you, your boyfriend keeps holding himself back from sleeping with you. OR the three times you want to fuck mark lee and the one time you do.

real talk by @smileysuh | m | 19.4k restaurant au, coworkers to lovers author summary: “You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

gelato by @hazyhae | m | 14.4k plug!mark, weed use, friends to strangers to lovers author summary: a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and you’ve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.

kiss u right now by @domjaehyun | m, f | 6.9k mark pining harddd author summary: in which mark just really wants to kiss you. alternative summary. five times mark wanted to kiss you and one time he actually does.

play with me by @domjaehyun | m, f | 4.6k weed use, best friends mark

series

sweet cream, cold brew by @lucyandthepen | m, f | 2 shot, 46.7k total college au, nerd!barista!mark, a very sweet fic with lots of pining <3 author summary: something about mark lee keeps you up at night, and you’re pretty sure that it isn’t the lingering smell of espresso on his shirt.

unholy by @sluttyten | m | 19 chapters supernatural au, poly!au featuring ten, yuta, winwin & mark author summary: you’re a religious good girl when one day you find yourself sucked into a dark world of myth, legend, and creatures of horror. You never believed they were real, but now there are demons, vampires, werewolves, and so much more. In the magic and in the seduction, you begin to lose who you were and discover who you are. And most confusing of all? You want every bit of it.

quarantine chronicles by @domjaehyun | m | 3 parts | 126.7k featuring jaehyun, johnny, jaemin & jungwoo author summary: fourteen days, five roommates, and five remarkably high sex drives. what could go wrong?

smashing the six by @yutaholic | m | 6 parts other parts feature jeno, johnny, jaehyun and haechan - kinda have to read all the other parts for it to make sense!!, college au author summary: there’s a notorious tradition at nct university - hookup with a player from each of the six athletic programs. bonus points awarded if you get any of them to fall in love with you. but don’t forget about neonet, nctu’s infamous social media app, where rumors get passed around like candy and no one is safe from having their business aired out for all to see.

[the-skin-inthe-bath-is-mine]

In a few months get ready to be objectified to baby blanket progress. Two of my friends are pregnant again.

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Support Reema's family in Egypt and Gaza.

My other promotion lists | imagine studying for midterms on a phone

Updated: Nov 23

Member(s): @reemash46 (shadowbanned), @reema16 (shadowbanned), @reemagaza (Reema), IG: reema_shurr (confirmed hers, see under cut for proof)

Verification: Operation Olive Branch Masterlist #18

Payment methods: Credit/debit, Paypal through my Kofi (Specify that it's for Reema. Be warned that Paypal takes a cut. I will post proof of donation within 24h under the 'receipts' tag.)

Donation match $20 CAD

Summary: Reema is an evacuated Palestinian studying pharmacy abroad in Egypt (read this post for more context). Funds are used for family members in Egypt and Palestine. See under the cut for details.

CAD is weak compared to other common currencies. Your donation can go a long way.

Campaign details:

Read the first campaign details post for what happened in this campaign so far. I also added some explanation on her financial situation and where the money she already raised (Roughly ~$15k CAD) is. Summary: she can't get it quickly due to banking restrictions.

Nov 18 update: The campaign has stagnated heavily recently, and Reema needs donations to afford the basic needs (ex. food) of her family still in Gaza.

Nov 3 update (done):

Reema's sister recently underwent surgery but there were complications in the procedure. She still needs to be hospitalized and monitored until her condition improves. This treatment requires $1,600, or $23,700 CAD in the campaign.

Reema bought her laptop before finding out about this. Extra money saved from this purchase was spent on her family's livelihood in Egypt. They have no emergency funds remaining.

Reema's sister's situation improved and she was discharged from the hospital on Nov 8.

Oct 20 update: Reema needs to wait for her campaign manager to transfer these older funds to her. She expects to get $3,000 in mid-November, but she's worried that she won't be able to pay off next semester's tuition if something goes wrong.

However, she can easily access new donations and these are considered emergency funds just in case she can't get the older ones. She needs more in the emergency budget because her family drew from it on Oct 10 to pay for her sister's surgery.

If everything goes smoothly, this money will go towards supporting her family members in:

Egypt: Reema wants to pay her parents back for supporting her journey and wants to contribute to their livelihood

Gaza: Preparing her family for the winter.

Misc:

Reema on IG confirms the Tumblr is hers