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#seven and the doctor have a baby
mossflower · 7 months
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loki season two has me screaming crying throwing up trying not to get dragged back into the mcu trenches
#i am stronger than this. i am better than this!!#by the trenches i mean consuming fanfiction at an unhealthy rate. fourteen year old me was insane i think i was on ao3 more than i slept#that’s not exaggeration. i was getting four hours of sleep on school nights and frequently went to bed at 5am on weekends#it is ONE good story. one. literally not worth it. i don’t even care about ninety percent of the mcu characters#i will ignore the little voice in my head reminding of the sheer amount of fanfiction. this was my pre-tumblr days#so my fandom interaction was like. youtube and ao3. maybe instagram posts sometimes. it was so much fun like. zero drama zero discourse#i was honestly living my best life. got less interested when i joined tumblr and went full doctor who mode#and after endgame i watched i think wandavision and loki and that was it. just didnt care anymore lol#i know exactly why this is happening tho. currently the thing i am insane about is my own damn project. which i am in the process of writin#for obvious reasons no fandom there. bc it lives in my mind twenty four fucking seven#i do wonder if i’m kind of growing away from fandom anyway? the closest i’ve got since toh ended was homestuck tbh#i want to feel obsessed with something again!! everything i’m into now - tma tlt and the like - i love them#but it doesnt hit like it used to. i don’t know it’s hard to explain#like video essays that i would have loved a few years ago!! the hour long ones about representation and queer media#they just irritate me now! i got halfway through one last week and had to bail i just could not care less#how did 2020 social media have me convinced that x character being gay was super important politically economically socially etc#ofc the answer is that i was a baby lesbian getting even less social interaction than normal#like representation is important obviously but also. sometimes it was not that deep#i don’t know if i’m making sense tbh but you get my drift#morganposting
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tocourtdisaster · 1 year
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I have a dentist appointment in two hours and my stomach has been tying itself in knots ever since I woke up this morning. It’s just a cleaning! But I had a lot of traumatic visits to the dentist when I was a kid that now my brain just equates dentist with evil.
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booasaur · 1 month
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Something I learned in these last seven months is that when children get war-related amputations, they need further surgeries as they grow.
I'd read it on Twitter so I looked it up to confirm (and it's true) but a lot of the search results were hospitals and doctors trying to explain the process to parents and what to tell their children, what kind of care they'd need after, how prosthetics would work.
I just saw this adorable little baby on Twitter (you can click to view the video, it's not gory, he's just a super serious little dude)
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and I thought, fleeing from Rafah must be one of the most traumatizing dangerous situations you could be in right now as a healthy adult, let alone a baby with multiple amputations in famine conditions.
There are no working hospitals to speak of in Gaza, healthcare workers keep being killed off, aid keeps being blocked, many of the amputees have no one to look after them, there's still constant bombing and shelling and shooting.
UNICEF reported 1,000 child amputees by the end of November.
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Last August, Lucy Letby, a thirty-three-year-old British nurse, was convicted of killing seven newborn babies and attempting to kill six others. Her murder trial, one of the longest in English history, lasted more than ten months and captivated the United Kingdom. The Guardian, which published more than a hundred stories about the case, called her “one of the most notorious female murderers of the last century.” The collective acceptance of her guilt was absolute. “She has thrown open the door to Hell,” the Daily Mail wrote, “and the stench of evil overwhelms us all.”
The case galvanized the British government. The Health Secretary immediately announced an inquiry to examine how Letby’s hospital had failed to protect babies. After Letby refused to attend her sentencing hearing, the Justice Secretary said that he’d work to change the law so that defendants would be required to go to court to be sentenced. Rishi Sunak, the Prime Minister, said, “It’s cowardly that people who commit such horrendous crimes do not face their victims.”
The public conversation rushed forward without much curiosity about an incongruous aspect of the story: Letby appeared to have been a psychologically healthy and happy person. She had many close friends. Her nursing colleagues spoke highly of her care and dedication. A detective with the Cheshire police, which led the investigation, said, “This is completely unprecedented in that there doesn’t seem to be anything to say” about why Letby would kill babies. “There isn’t really anything we have found in her background that’s anything other than normal.”
The judge in her case, James Goss, acknowledged that Letby appeared to have been a “very conscientious, hard working, knowledgeable, confident and professional nurse.” But he also said that she had embarked on a “calculated and cynical campaign of child murder,” and he sentenced her to life, making her only the fourth woman in U.K. history condemned to die in prison.
[...] The N.H.S. has a totemic status in the British psyche—it’s the “closest thing the English have to a religion,” as one politician has put it. One of the last remnants of the postwar social contract, it inspires loyalty and awe even as it has increasingly broken down, partly as a result of years of underfunding. In 2015, the infant-mortality rate in England and Wales rose for the first time in a century. A survey found that two-thirds of the country’s neonatal units did not have enough medical and nursing staff.
[...] A woman came to the hospital after her water broke. She was sent home and told to wait. More than twenty-four hours later, she noticed that the baby was making fewer movements inside her. “I was concerned for infection because I hadn’t been given any antibiotics,” she said later. She returned to the hospital, but she still wasn’t given antibiotics. She felt “forgotten by the staff, really,” she said. Sixty hours after her water broke, she had a C-section. The baby, a girl who was dusky and limp when she was born, should have been treated with antibiotics immediately, doctors later acknowledged, but nearly four hours passed before she was given the medication. The next night, the baby’s oxygen alarm went off. “Called Staff Nurse Letby to help,” a nurse wrote. The baby continued to deteriorate throughout the night and could not be revived. A pathologist found pneumonia in the baby’s lungs and wrote that the infection was likely present at birth.
[...] A team from the Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health spent two days interviewing people at the Countess [Letby's hospital]. They found that nursing- and medical-staffing levels were inadequate. They also noted that the increased mortality rate in 2015 was not restricted to the neonatal unit. Stillbirths on the maternity ward were elevated, too. [...] The Royal College could find no obvious factors linking the deaths; the report noted that the circumstances on the unit were “not materially different from those which might be found in many other neonatal units within the UK.”
[...] In September, 2022, a month before Letby’s trial began, the Royal Statistical Society published a report titled “Healthcare Serial Killer or Coincidence?” The report had been prompted in part by concerns about two recent cases, one in Italy and one in the Netherlands, in which nurses had been wrongly convicted of murder largely because of a striking association between their shift patterns and the deaths on their wards. The society sent the report to both the Letby prosecution and the defense team. It detailed the dangers of drawing causal conclusions from improbable clusters of events. In the trial of the Dutch nurse, Lucia de Berk, a criminologist had calculated that there was a one-in-three-hundred-and-forty-two-million chance that the deaths were coincidental. But his methodology was faulty; when statisticians looked at the data, they found that the chances were closer to one in fifty.
[...] “Looking for a responsible human—this is what the police are good at,” Schafer [a law professor at the University of Edinburgh who studies the intersection of law and science] told me. “What is not in the police’s remit is finding a systemic problem in an organization like the National Health Service, after decades of underfunding, where you have overworked people cutting little corners with very vulnerable babies who are already in a risk category. It is much more satisfying to say there was a bad person, there was a criminal, than to deal with the outcome of government policy.”
[...] Several months into the trial, Richard Gill, an emeritus professor of mathematics at Leiden University, in the Netherlands, began writing online about his concerns regarding the case. Gill was one of the authors of the Royal Statistical Society report, and in 2006 he had testified before a committee tasked with determining whether to reopen the case of Lucia de Berk. England has strict contempt-of-court laws that prevent the publication of any material that could prejudice legal proceedings. Gill posted a link to a Web site, created by Sarrita Adams, a scientific consultant in California, that detailed flaws in the prosecution’s medical evidence. In July, a detective with the Cheshire police sent letters to Gill and Adams ordering them to stop writing about the case. “The publication of this material puts you at risk of ‘serious consequences’ (which include a sentence of imprisonment),” the letters said. “If you come within the jurisdiction of the court, you may be liable to arrest.”
Letby is housed in a privately run prison west of London, the largest correctional facility for women in Europe. Letters to prisoners are screened, and I don’t know if several letters that I sent ever reached her. One of her lawyers, Richard Thomas, who has represented her since early in the case, said that he would tell Letby that I had been in touch with him, but he ignored my request to share a message with her, instead reminding me of the contempt-of-court order. He told me, “I cannot give any comment on why you cannot communicate” with Letby. Lawyers in England can be sanctioned for making remarks that would undermine confidence in the judicial system. I sent Myers, Letby’s barrister, several messages in the course of nine months, and he always responded with some version of an apology—“the brevity of this response is not intended to be rude in any way”—before saying that he could not talk to me.
[...] Michael Hall, the defense expert, had expected to testify at the trial—he was prepared to point to flaws in the prosecution’s theory of air embolism and to undetected signs of illness in the babies—but he was never called. He was troubled that the trial largely excluded evidence about the treatment of the babies’ mothers; their medical care is inextricably linked to the health of their babies. In the past ten years, the U.K. has had four highly publicized maternity scandals, in which failures of care and supervision led to a large number of newborn deaths.
[...] Johnson, the prosecutor, pushed her to come up with her own explanation for each baby’s deterioration. Yet she wasn’t qualified to provide them. “In general, I don’t think a lot of the babies were cared for on the unit properly,” she offered. “I’m not a medical professional to know exactly what should and shouldn’t have happened with those babies.”
“Do you agree that if certain combinations of these children were attacked then unless there was more than one person attacking them, you have to be the attacker?” Johnson asked at one point.
“No.”
“You don’t agree?”
“No. I’ve not attacked any children.”
Johnson continued, “But if the jury conclude that a certain combination of children were actually attacked by someone, then the shift pattern gives us the answer as to who the attacker was, doesn’t it?”
“No, I don’t agree.”
“You don’t agree. Why don’t you agree?”
“Because just because I was on shift doesn’t mean that I have done anything.”
[...] After a few days of cross-examination, Letby seemed to shut down; she started frequently giving one-word answers, almost whispering. “I’m finding it quite hard to concentrate,” she said.
Johnson repeatedly accused her of lying. “You are a very calculating woman, aren’t you, Lucy Letby?” he said.
“No,” she replied.
He asked, “The reason you tell lies is to try to get sympathy from people, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“You try to get attention from people, don’t you?”
“No.”
“In killing these children, you got quite a lot of attention, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t kill the children.”
[...] Toward the end of the trial, the court received an e-mail from someone who claimed to have overheard one of the jurors at a café saying that jurors had “already made up their minds about her case from the start.” Goss reviewed the complaint but ultimately allowed the juror to continue serving.
He instructed the twelve members of the jury that they could find Letby guilty even if they weren’t “sure of the precise harmful act” she’d committed. [...] The jury deliberated for thirteen days but could not reach a unanimous decision. In early August, one juror dropped out. A few days later, Goss told the jury that he would accept a 10–1 majority verdict.
[...] The public conversation about the case seemed to treat details about poor care on the unit as if they were irrelevant. In his closing statement, Johnson had accused the defense of “gaslighting” the jury by suggesting that the problem was the hospital, not Letby. Defending himself against the accusation, Myers told the jury, “It’s important I make it plain that in no way is this case about the N.H.S. in general.” He assured the jury, “We all feel strongly about the N.H.S. and we are protective of it.” It seemed easier to accept the idea of a sadistic “angel of death” than to look squarely at the fact that families who had trusted the N.H.S. had been betrayed, their faith misplaced.
Since the verdicts, there has been almost no room for critical reflection. At the end of September, a little more than a month after the trial ended, the prosecution announced that it would retry Letby on one of the attempted-murder charges, and a new round of reporting restrictions was promptly put in place. The contempt-of-court rules are intended to preserve the integrity of the legal proceedings, but they also have the effect of suppressing commentary that questions the state’s decisions. In October, The BMJ, the country’s leading medical journal, published a comment from a retired British doctor cautioning against a “fixed view of certainty that justice has been done.” In light of the new reporting restrictions, the journal removed the comment from its Web site, “for legal reasons.” At least six other editorials and comments, which did not question Letby’s guilt, remain on the site.
it looks like a british nurse was wrongfully convicted based on poor evidence and the tabloid media environment. this new yorker article is embargoed in the uk!
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gallifreyanhotfive · 24 days
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What Would Have Happened If The Other Doctors Stepped on the "Boom" Land Mine
One: The land mine is diffused by the power of parental love much sooner. Splice and Mundy join the TARDIS team after he decides that Splice will be his next fill-in granddaughter.
Two: Plays the recorder instead of singing. Jamie attacks the ambulance with his knife as soon as it attaches the lines to the Doctor, and it's only Zoe that stops him from getting killed. The detonation happens much sooner because the Doctor gets antsy and plays with the fiddly bits.
Three: Expertly controls his blood pressure to stop a premature detonation. Tries to keep his companion far away, but they discover the land mine anyway. Takes the land mine with him after it is diffused to use for spare parts in the UNIT lab.
Four: "Harry, I'm standing on a land mine." Doesn't bother with a counterbalance and just stands on one foot for the whole episode. Snacks on some jelly babies while waiting for the right moment.
Five: Has an in depth conversation with Nyssa about how he is regulating his biology on a molecular level. They use a cricket ball from the TARDIS as a counterbalance, meaning that he never gets shot or targeted by the ambulance. One of his companions still ends up getting shot, at which point he falls over, immediately self destructs, and blows a giant hole in the planet.
Six: Gets far too irritated for his blood pressure to stay low. Could really do with some of Evelyn's cocoa right about now. The land mine blows up because he cannot calm down enough to disguise his presence.
Seven: A much longer conversation on how the Doctor is a complex space-time event. The countdown finishes, but the land mine doesn't blow because he had disarmed it at the beginning of the episode. The entire time, he was just pretending the land mine was live in order to teach his teenage companion a life lesson.
Eight: Forgets he's standing on a land mine and blows up. Gets into a passionate conversation with his companion about the war industry complex. Soliloquizes about life and death. Almost sacrifices himself in an inferno of self-loathing, but his companion saves the day.
War: His associates go back in time and extract him before he steps on the land mine. This new version of him continues fighting the Daleks while the time echo standing on the land mine is used to blow a hole in the nearby Dalek command ship.
Nine: Has flashbacks to the War while standing on the land mine but somehow manages to stabilize his blood pressure thanks to the presence of Rose and Jack. Jack manages to diffuse the bomb while he is on it thanks to his experience with Villengard tech.
Ten: "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Tries to convince his companion to evacuate as much of the population into the TARDIS as possible because they would be safe there. Almost lets himself blow up, but his companion forces him to find a way to survive.
Eleven: The mine blows up in about ten seconds because he can't stand still. The entire planet is blown to smithereens, but his friends are okay because he locked them in the TARDIS.
Twelve: Gets into mind games with Clara while she is trying to figure out what he is standing on. Clara tries to take his place, but he doesn't let her. Missy eventually shows up and disarms the land mine because she wants to be the one to kill him.
Thirteen: Only manages to stay still because the Fam calms her down. Is oddly stoic about the entire thing and disappears into the depths of the TARDIS for several days after it happens. She never brings it up again even though Yaz tries to get her to talk about it.
Fourteen: God damn it this guy is supposed to be retired. He's supposed to be having a break. He talks about how much he loves his companion and how so, so sorry he is that he can't fix this.
Fugitive: This is a normal Tuesday for her. Probably has some sort of anti-land mine device in one of her coat pockets.
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little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader
“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.
“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”
“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.
“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.
derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.
“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”
emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”
three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.
he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.
“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.
before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.
“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”
“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”
“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”
“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”
“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.
“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.
“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”
all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.
spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”
“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.
with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”
“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”
“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”
“i don’t like this conversation either.”
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fanonical · 6 months
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donna as the first doctor's companion: like barbara but willing to say fuck. will push back against this old man's bullshit, but will also join him on the most ridiculous shenanigans
donna with two: watch out universe the clown squad's coming at you and they're sillier than ever
donna with three: shouting matches every five minutes. if he even tries to boss her around he gets an earful and a half. the brigadier is in love
donna with four: they hate each other so much. they would die for each other.
donna with five: she bullies this pathetic man so so much, and probably ends up having a one-night stand with tegan
donna with six: they kill each other, there is no other outcome
donna with seven: spends her whole time trying to get him to stop being mysterious for like five fucking seconds
donna with eight: the most tragic and horrific bullshit you have ever seen
donna with nine: ride or die. nine needs an unhinged bossy lady who is willing to match him on his level.
donna with eleven: that is not a time lord, that is a baby, and donna will walk all over him
donna with twelve: once again, they hate each other so so much, but will not let anyone else insult the other
donna with thirteen: unstoppable force meets other unstoppable force. they fall in love
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sutorus · 7 months
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HEART SHAKER
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader
WC: ~1k
WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.
A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL
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“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”
you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks. 
you pump harder. 
“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”
you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs. 
“can you stop? i lost count!”
satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back. 
you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin. 
you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply. 
“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”
you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results. 
satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly. 
“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”
“resident,” you correct him. 
you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him. 
of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was. 
it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient. 
“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”
you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer. 
“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore. 
satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”
you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg. 
you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again. 
“turn infinity off.”
“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”
“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”
he won’t. 
“wanna play doctor?” 
you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities. 
grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.
he complained about a migraine to shoko. 
it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times. 
“how’s your head?” you ask him. 
“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”
a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two. 
“satoru, please.”
“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”
“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping. 
satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two. 
“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”
at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on. 
you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out. 
“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”
“hmm?”
you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face. 
“why is your heart beating so fast?”
at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush. 
“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“
“it’s hard, alright—“
“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you. 
“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”
“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”
you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.
he hums contentedly when you pull away.
“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”
you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.
“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”
he coos.
“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”
despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.
“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”
satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.
“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.
“no problem. now shoo.”
you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.
“ah, but i was wondering—“
“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.
“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“
“out!”
he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.
you take a deep breath.
you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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love the doctor!remus content!!!
would love to read about him in a similar setting as the last request u did, where reader doesn’t tell him she‘s had to go to urgent care (maybe she lost her phone) and he‘s in his big scary attending mood but the moment he steps into the room and realizes reader is the patient he goes all concerned and cooing and all the interns are confused as to what happened to calm collected and kinda cool doctor lupin :((((
Thanks love!
cw: hospital, mention of stitches
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You can hear him talking as he moves down the line of small curtained-off rooms, your heart contracting at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice but too shy to interrupt him while he’s working. Remus’ tone is clipped and all business, and you can tell by how quickly his voice draws closer that he’s striding toward you in that brisk way he does when he’s busy. 
“This one’s already been treated,” he’s saying to someone, “so we’re just checking in before discharge. Let me ask some of the necessary questions first, and then we’ll ask the patient’s permission for you to ask some as well.” 
He looks nearly imposing as he whips open the curtain, clipboard in hand and a gaggle of what you guess must be residents on his heels. That all drains away, along with the blood in his face, when he sees you. “Dove?”
“Dove?” you hear one of the residents echo bemusedly. 
“Hi,” you say sheepishly. 
Remus steps toward where you sit on the bed, concern etched into the twin lines between his brows. “Honey, what happened? You” —he looks down at his clipboard, flustered— “you got stitches in your hand? What’d you need stitches in your hand for?” 
You glance between the many sets of eyes in the room, self-conscious in the face of so much attention. “I cut myself,” you answer quietly. 
Remus lowers the clipboard, looking devastated for you. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, but the reprimand in his tone is barely detectable behind all the fondness coating it. He holds out a hand. “Let me see.” 
You give him your hand obediently, doing your best to follow his example and ignore the murmurings from your small audience. He’s painstakingly careful as he removes the bandages to reveal your cut. It looks far better than it had when it had been bleeding all over your car on the drive over, but Remus still coos like it's the most grievous injury he’s seen in his career. 
“Seven stitches?” His lips turn down into a pout. “What’d you do to yourself, dovey?” 
You see one resident’s eyebrows fly up at the sappy pet name, exchanging a look with the one next to him. 
“I was trying to cut up the squash I bought last week,” you explain, unsure if you’re supposed to be talking to the room but directing your words only to your boyfriend, “and my knife slipped. I was going to call you when it wouldn't stop bleeding, but my phone died. I didn’t have time to charge it before I came.” 
Remus makes a gruff, reluctant sound of approval. “Well, I’m glad you came but I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you. Did it hurt very badly?” 
“Not really,” you lie quietly, but one of the residents behind you goes, “Doctor Lupin, is that one of the necessary questions we’re meant to be asking?” 
You flush, and Remus shifts modes in an instant, his look severe as he turns on the smart aleck. “No,” he says drily. “But this is still the portion where you’re meant to be quiet.” 
You sort of feel for the resident as they nod abashedly. Remus countenance warms again as he turns back towards you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says, still cradling your injured hand in his.
“It wasn’t too bad.”
“Baby.” Remus’ brows scrunch together, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear. “I can tell you’ve been crying, darling.” 
“Remus,” you chide embarrassedly, looking again to the residents gathered behind him. 
“Ah.” He drops a hand to your knee for an apologetic squeeze, turning to face your observers with more of an authoritative air. “Go find somewhere else to be,” he tells them. 
They scatter like mice, and Remus huffs when the last one out doesn’t shut the curtain, stepping away from you to draw it closed himself. 
“Sorry, I sort of forget they’re there sometimes,” he explains, but he’s already doubling down on the sweetness now that they’re gone, bringing your injured palm to his lips for a very, very gentle kiss. “Did you cry while they stitched you up, honey?” 
You might cry again now if he keeps looking at you like that. “A little,” you admit. “I was being a tad dramatic.” 
“I doubt that,” he says, thumb stroking lovingly over the line of stitches before picking up the bandage and beginning to rewrap it. “Hand wounds are no light thing. It probably bled a lot, hm?”
“There may be some cleanup waiting for me in both the kitchen and my car,” you joke. Remus gives you a small smile for your efforts. 
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it when I get home.” He finishes bandaging your hand and leans in to kiss your cheek. When he pulls back, his eyebrows have bunched again. “You’ve got mascara tracks on your cheeks,” he murmurs, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over the plane of your cheekbone. “S’breaking my heart.” 
“Sorry,” you say bashfully, and he rolls his eyes at you, pecking you again on the cheek like he can’t help himself. 
“What’re you sorry for, hm? Well,” he seems to reconsider, “you ought to be sorry about your knife skills, but that’s an apology you owe yourself, not me. I’ll be stowing all the knives where you can’t reach them from now on, by the way.” 
“First you’ll have to deal with all the residents you just disillusioned,” you tease him back. “Seems like they used to think you were cool and blase, but not anymore.” 
Remus shrugs. “People are multifaceted. If they didn’t know that already, then I taught them something today after all.” He gives you another soft look, though it’s far less worried than the others had been. “My poor darling,” he laments, setting his hands on either side of you to plant one final kiss on your forehead. “Rest here for a bit, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes, yeah?” 
“Okay, thanks,” you agree readily, happy to have a ride home considering the state you left your car in. “Gonna go try to restore your street cred with the residents?” 
“Dove, don’t be silly,” he says on his way out. “They worship me.” 
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baby finn series, the necessary reactions
series list - house divided - bedtime stories - sneaking onto stream - babysitting and date nights
lando norris x mom!wife!reader
summary - y/n is pregnant again, time to tell the world - well, their whole world. 
masterlist
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-
“then what is it?” lando cups your chin in his hands with his question, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“it’s just that,” you sigh, searching lando’s eyes, “we don’t need to keep trying, if there’s already a baby on the way,”
“you’re joking,” lando whispers, his eyes beginning to well with tears, “love, are you serious?” you nod wordlessly, your smiling catching from ear to ear as lando’s begins to grow, “oh my GOD!” he exclaims, not caring anymore about the young boy sleeping down the hall. he’s currently too busy grabbing your waist in his hands and spinning you around in giggling circles. 
“lan, please,” you choke out between your laughs, “you’ll turn our baby into a milkshake,” you continue to giggle as lando sets you down with quiet apologies in between a multitude of kisses. the room falls silent for a moment as lando pulls away and his hands migrate to your stomach, both of you staring into each others eyes as if they were the stars in the sky. 
“we’re having another baby,” lando’s smile has not faltered since your admission, and neither has yours.
“ya, lan. we’re having another baby,” you smile wider as happy tears start their race down your cheeks. lando joins in shortly with happy sobs as he pulls you into his arms, calmly rocking you both back and forth in place. you hear the quiet words mumbled into your neck of ‘i can’t believe this is happening’ and ‘i’m so fucking happy right now’ as you just hold onto your husband in joy. 
finally pulling apart, lando drops down to a knee, staring at your bare stomach in awe, “hi baby norris,” he chokes down another sob as he kisses the baby’s home, “it’s your daddy,” you hold his head in your hands while trying to control your own tears, enjoying the interaction at its fullest. 
your husband looks up at you and all you read in his eyes is pure admiration and love. he catches your eyes staring down at him, seeing only love and admiration as well. you both share the soft moment in quiet comfort, proceeding to not leave each other's sides as you ready yourselves for bed. 
getting yourself under the blankets in bed, you scoot over into lando’s awaiting arms, him immediately wrapping you into his hold. his free hand falls to your stomach like a magnet - just as it always did with finn. you roll the slightest in order to have a better view of your husband, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek, both of you not breaking the adoring eye contact. he leans down a pinch, kissing your nose, then cheeks, then forehead, and finally landing on your lips. you hum in approval before he separates, proceeding to lean down to your stomach and repeat the kisses.
his head lays on the top of your stomach, your hands raking through his curls, as he continues to speak sweet nothings to the growing baby inside your tummy. you then soon fall into a conversation about when and how you found out - your bad takeout was not actually bad, and the doctor's appointment was yesterday, how far along you were - seven weeks, only - and when your next appointment was - two weeks from today, your first ultrasound. 
you were lulled to sleep by lando’s continuing conversation to your unborn child and his soft stroking over your belly.
-
you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and distant baby giggles echoing through your home. stretching for a moment, you take a deep breath - debating needing a morning sickness session or not - before you reluctantly climb out from your warm haven of blankets. reaching quickly for one of lando’s hoodies tossed around, you pull it over your head to substitute for the lost heat. 
“momma!” you hear the happy squeaks of your son as you open the door from your bedroom, light padding of his feet making their way over to you. entering into the living room, you’re immediately met with a bouncy three year old at your feet, arms up and ready for his morning cuddles. swinging him onto your hip with whispered ‘good morning, my love’ and a kiss to his sweet head, you waltz over to your husband seated on the couch. 
“i made breakfast, you hungry, love?” lando asks as you take a seat next to him. 
“not right now, but probably soon,” you respond, leaning over to greet your husband with a kiss. 
“alright, but you need to eat,” his over-protective nature residing again, something you had your ups and downs with while pregnant with finn.
“i know, love. i will,” you assure your husband with another light peck to his lips. he smiles back down at you, on too much of a high to even pester you as of this moment. 
“we have the quadrant video today, too,” 
“oh, right,” you shake your head, “what time is that again?”
“around three, so we have a lot of time,” lando proceeds to direct his attention to his son, “are you so excited to come with us, finn? uncle max will be there!”
“uncle max!” your son claps happily from your lap, excited at the mention of his other favorite uncle. 
“yes, buddy! uncle max wants to see you!” lando claps with his son, “why don’t you go pick out what you want to wear today, bubs?” your husband picks your son off your lap to help him down, giving him the availability to run to his room.
“otay, daddy!” with that, finn takes his little legs at full speed to his bedroom, amusing giggles radiating through the home. your husband turns his attention back to you after his son was out of sight, pulling you closer into his body.
“i was hoping we could tell the team today, if that’s alright with you?” lando asks you quietly, hinting at the reveal of your pregnancy. last night when you had told lando, both of your parents had been rung immediately. doing it over the phone wasn’t ideal but the parents staying in england as you and lando were in monaco wasn’t ideal either. and you both wanted to tell them right away. 
“well i know we agreed to tell our parents first, but i feel like we should tell finn second, no?” 
“should we tell him today before the group? or do you want to wait?”
“i don’t know, lan. i truly haven’t given it much thought and i want to. telling your only baby that another one is coming can disrupt a lot, i don’t want to rush it,” you hang your head a bit at your worries and lando understands immediately. 
“it’s alright, we can tell the lads later,” he’s quick to respond in order to ease your mind.
“how about just max?” you offer as a compromise. even though finn was beyond fond of carlos, max fewtrell had been the rock for him as he was growing in your tummy up to now and for sure in the future. he was almost his second father. and he was lando’s best friend. and finn adored max just as you know your second baby will as well, “i can tell my best friend today and you can tell yours, then we’ll talk a bit more about how we tell finn,”
“i like the sound of that, love,” your husband kisses your forehead, “we’ll tell max and y/b/f/n today, and then everyone else will find out after finn,”
“yes, lovely. i like the sound of that, lan,”
-
pulling up to the track where lando’s quadrant video would be filmed, you let out a nervous sigh, hand involuntarily reaching for your stomach. your husband reaches across the console in the car, removing your hand and instead intertwining your fingers. a kiss to the back of your hand was all the reassurance you needed in that moment. 
parked in the lot, lando steps out of the vehicle, racing around the front of the car and opening the door for you, holding onto your hand as you step out as well. leading you both towards your giggly son in the backseat, your husband unstraps his seat belts, lifts him out of the car and pulls on his hand due to finn’s persistence to walk - like a big boy. the little family makes their way through a few gates and security checks before finally arriving near the rest of the quadrant group. 
“there’s the best godson in the world!” max lets out a squeal, bending down as finn sprints into his arms. 
“uncle maxxxx!” finn yells in his arms, laughing along to max proceeding to pick him up and spin him around. 
“hey!” your best friend comes out from behind you and lando to join the group, “does your godmother get any love?” she laughs heading over to max and finn.
“aunty y/b/f/n!” finn screams from max’s hold, wiggling to make his way towards your friend, “i dind’t know you come!” he squeaks out.
“your mommy called me! said you missed me, baby,” she laughs scooping your son up from max.
“i did! i miss you all!” finn’s arms wrap around her tightly as the entire quadrant group ‘awe’s’ at his words. 
“actually, finn, why don’t you go join niran and ria,” lando starts, reaching for your hand to hint at his intentions, “momma and daddy have to talk to max and y/b/f/n really fast, okay?”
“otay, daddy! but i see them later?”
“oh ya, bubs,” your husband nods as he helps his son down towards the group, “we have the rest of the day to hang out, this will just take a second, okay?”
“otay, daddy!” finn replies to lando’s direction, running off towards niran and ria, leaving the four of you alone in a distant part of the track.  
“uh oh,” max lets out, “are we in trouble?” 
“not at all,” you laugh in response, “quite the opposite really, we have some exciting news to share with the both of you,” tightening your grip on lando’s hand, you give him an approval nod to let go of the information.
“y/n’s pregnant!”
“WHAT!”
“OH MY GOSH!” your best friend takes a step towards you, holding you in her arms as she jumps a bit in excitement. max and lando are hugging, congratulations are shared as the pairs switch to the other respective partner. both max and y/b/f/n are tearing up, as you and your husband are trying hard not to do the same. 
“i think we’re going to tell finn tonight, so just keep it quiet,” your husband shares, max mocks his reprimand by zipping his lips shut as your best friend just continues to nod in excitement.
“and even after we tell finn, i think we’re just going to keep it quiet until i start to show, so let’s not tell anyone, alright?” you offer your worries next. 
“you’ve got it guys,” max nods, “we’ll keep it a secret,”
“i mean, we did pretty good with the last one,” your best friend laughs off in her agreement. 
-
after the long and exhausting day on the track, lando is hauling your son’s body up the stairs in his arms, the deadweight not budging once arriving inside your home. your husband carefully places him on the couch in the living room as you make your way into the kitchen in order to find something, anything to eat. a loud sigh behind you causes you to turn your head in it’s direction, coming face to face with your husband. 
“i don’t think it’s happening today,” 
“you mean telling finn, lan?”
“ya, he’s wiped out,”
“why are you so eager to tell him?” lando thinks for a moment at your question, reaching around you to the counter, popping a grape into his mouth. 
“i’m just excited, y/n,” he finally lets slip, “i want to buy things for the nursery, i want to buy baby clothes, i want to talk to little baby norris, i want to hear finn talk about how exciting this will be, i want to-”
“okay, lan,” you cut him off, moving to steal a kiss from his lips, “bright and early tomorrow, finn will know about little baby norris,”
“good,” he sighs in relief, kissing you again. 
-
the blinding light of the sun proceeds to have you blinking open your eyes, facing your husband who was leaning against the headboard, scrolling on his phone. 
“you’re finally awake, love,” he whispers towards you, a hand coming across your cheek to swipe the sleep from your eyes. they close for a brief moment to bask in the softness before shooting open as you scramble out of bed to race to the bathroom. several knocks at the door, your persistence to keep lando away from you, and then finally a flushed toilet and mouthwash rinsed out lead you to leaving the bathroom, eyes widening at the scene. 
lando is still leaning against the headboard, this time with his little mini me leaning against him as well. the tv is turned on to lando’s favorite show with a soft volume as your son is still fighting sleep on his fathers lap and a bottle of milk slowly slipping from his grasp. 
“y’alright, love?” your husband speaks softly as to not alarm the baby on his lap, you nodding in return, climbing back into the bed to be with your family. 
“why sick, mommy?” your son asks, sleepy gaze holding a bit of concern. 
“well, finn,” you sigh, reaching for your husband’s hand as you both look down at your son on his lap, “there is a baby growing in my tummy, and sometimes it’ll make me sick,”
“baby?” finn questions, looking up at his parents with curiosity. 
“ya, bubs,” lando laughs a bit, “you’re going to be a big brother! isn’t that exciting?”
“bwother…” finn sighs quietly, almost as if he’s testing the word to see if it feels correct rolling off his tongue. 
“aren’t you happy, baby?” you urge softly, eyeing your son, attempting to read his reaction. 
“will baby like me?” finn asks, his attention turning from you to lando.
“oh, bubs,” lando sigh, holding his son tightly as he responds, “the baby is going to love you,” he finishes off with a kiss to his head. finn finally smiles and giggles, climbing from lando’s lap over to yours, bending down to kiss your stomach.
“i wuv you, baby,” he giggles after the kiss, “i meet you soon!”
yours and your husband’s eyes meet as your son keeps kissing your belly, the non-verbal understanding that everything would be okay. 
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ddejavvu · 8 months
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Hey Mei 🫶
Here’s my idea - BAU!wife who yells at Hotch when he yells at their team members because she’s a protective momma bear. And hotch secretly loves it because his wife yelling gets him all hot and bothered.
Love you 🫶 and your writing thank you 🧡
Perhaps it's an unwise idea to pick a fight with your surly husband, especially because he doubles as your surly boss. But Spencer hadn't even been that late, and you know he only walked in late because he takes public transportation, and he couldn't control that the bus was late. And, Aaron's only in such a sour mood because Jack had given him typical teenage attitude before school this morning. So really, Spencer didn't deserve the near-shouted lecture he'd gotten.
You march over to the young doctor's desk, happy that his aversion to touch applies to people he's not familiar with. He leans into your stomach when you pull his head to rest on it, albeit stiffly, and you call after your husband with narrowed, fierce eyes.
"Aaron, come back here right now and apologize." You demand, and the already icy mood in the office shifts a few degrees colder. Aaron stops on the stairs and by the tightness of his shoulders he's composing himself, then he turns on his heel and raises a thick brow at you.
"What?"
"He didn't deserve that," You scold him, keeping Spencer's head cradled to your stomach as you stroke down his back, "He's a baby."
Aaron rolls his eyes, "He is not a baby, Y/N. He's a grown man with a government job, and I expect him to show up to it on time."
"He does! He's early every single other day," You remind him, "But the bus came late today! How was he supposed to get here? Uber? You know he doesn't know how to download new apps! Let alone link his bank account to pay the guy. He was seven minutes late, for fuck's sake, just leave him alone!"
Aaron looks like he wants to snap. You've gnashed your teeth at him, and he's lived the life of a fighting dog thus far, so you know you're treading in dangerous waters. But after a rather intense stare down in which you feel Spencer's face heating up through the fabric of your shirt, your husband swallows his pride and mutters, "I expect you in my office within five minutes, Y/N."
Spencer mumbles some feeble protest on your behalf but you pat his back to shush him, letting go so that he can straighten up again.
"Don't worry," You send him a warm smile, "I can handle him. Call me if you ever need a ride again, okay? We can come pick you up."
"Okay." He nods, but it's most likely only to deter you from pampering him with any more motherly affection, as he looks like he's going to wilt from it, "Thanks, Y/N."
"Anytime," You squeeze his shoulder, passing your concerned teammates unbothered smiles as you make your way to Aaron's office.
He's only recently sat down when you arrive, but you notice that he's conveniently sitting so that the desk blocks your view of his lower half. You stand at attention in front of his desk, playing coy like you don't know what's coming next.
"Do you enjoy questioning my authority in front of my team?" He asks you, voice carefully even and tight.
"I enjoy doing anything that makes your dick twitch, Aaron." You announce, your tone deceptively casual for the filth you're spewing, "Did you haul me in here to fuck me over the desk? The blinds are still open, don't you think that's a little distasteful?"
Your attitude only makes him more uncomfortably aroused, and he regrets getting his suits tailored so precisely, as his pants have little give. He leans forwards across his desk, dark eyes boring into yours.
"No. I hauled you in here to tell you that I'm going to fuck you over the desk. But not yet. You're asking for it now, so I'm not giving it to you. Maybe if you'd been a little more polite, I'd have given you what you wanted. But now you're going to wait, because you decided to bicker with me over the rules of this office. Rules that I set, because I am in charge of keeping this team on track."
The harsh tone of his voice makes your stomach twist, and you're feeling your heartbeat in two places. You stand there, saliva slowly accumulating on your tongue, until he raises a brow at you, unimpressed.
"Don't do that again. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir." You lay on the formality hot and heavy, practically purring it and watching as he shifts slightly in his seat, "I'll be waiting, whenever you decide you can't take it anymore."
"Careful." He snaps, eyes ablaze at your implication that he'll be the one to break, "Don't dig yourself any deeper. Dismissed."
You turn to leave with a satisfied smirk on your face, and perhaps you exaggerate bending over to pick up a stray paperclip that you notice on the floor by his door.
"Here," You pad back across the room to hand it to him, not missing the way that he's tense all over, "See you in twenty, Hotchner."
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cntloup · 4 months
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Together
Fem!Reader fluff, angst, pregnancy
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"You ok, lovie?" Simon asks worriedly when he sets his eyes on you, sitting on the sofa, expressionless and silent tears running down your cheeks. "Huh?" you come back to this world upon hearing his soft voice, quickly wiping away the tears with your sleeves, rubbing harshly and leaving a sting. He kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his, "Hey, hey! Gently!" he coos as he presses soft kisses on the back of your hands and tenderly wipes your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Tell me what's wrong, love." his tone is soft, yet serious, expecting an answer.
Shortly after, you break into sobs, "I feel so weak. I- I feel like the baby is eating away at me piece by piece. I know I shouldn't say that about my baby but...what if- what if I can't go through with this?" you ask your husband who’s been your rock through all of this.
Now that you're seven months pregnant and the reality of giving birth and having a baby has dawned on you, also the hormones and the bodily changes have taken a toll on your physical, emotional and mental state, you're anxious about not being able to get through all of it.
The thought of giving birth absolutely frightens you. And being a mother. What if you can't be a good mother to your child? What if you neglect your child in some way without knowing so? What if you succumb to the demons of your past? All these thoughts prance around your mind, darkening your skies and laying a heavy weight on your shoulders.
He takes you in his arms, your head on his shoulder as you sob onto his shirt and he gently nuzzles your head in his palm, brushing his fingers through your hair. "You can, love. Of course you can. You're the strongest person I know. Also the doctor said everything is fine and going smoothly. You have nothing to worry about. And I'm right here by your side, no matter what." he reassures you, rubbing your arms and back soothingly, his touch comforting, slowly putting your mind at ease.
"I-I'm just worried about not being a good parent." you mutter as you lift your head, looking into his eyes. He can't believe the words that just came out of your mouth. "You're gonna be the best mother in the world. You're everything a child would need and more. You're perfect, my love. Don't let these thoughts get into that pretty little head of yours." he says, his eyes filled with pure love and admiration.
"I'm far from perfect. But I will try to be the best I can." you respond, holding his gaze, a smile starting to appear on your lips. "Atta girl!" he praises "I'm not perfect either, but we'll learn together, alright?" "Together." you repeat, nodding as you hold his hand in yours. As long as he's by your side, you can overcome any worries and anxieties.
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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rreids · 1 month
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CRAMPS • S. REID X READER
reader gets a period and severe cramps; bau!reader; fluff; comfort; spencer is so sweet and also annoying; innuendo / mentions of orgasms; implied sex; spencer is sooo into reader; no established relationship; ~2300 words
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Mother Nature sure had a way of ruining your day.
You’d known your period was starting, preemptively put a product, and brought painkillers in your go bag — but those painkillers were in your hotel room, thirty minutes from where you were. And it’s not like you could leave a crime scene you were profiling because of cramps, not when it was urgent that you caught the man behind the murders before he took another life.
You winced, holding your stomach as you stepped around a dried patch of blood and studied his ligature marks. “He’s getting more refined,” you told Spencer, brow furrowing as a wave of pain rolled through you. “Perfecting his fantasy. We should tell the others he’ll have a shorter cooling off period soon.”
Spencer makes a quick call to Emily before looking at you, hunched over slightly and face crumpled.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine, Spence,” you grumble. “We have work to do.”
“You’re doubling over in pain, don’t tell me you’re fine.” Spencer chides, walking over to you. “I’m a doctor, tell me what’s wrong,” he’s teasing you a little, and you smile despite the cramps.
“Not that kind of doctor,” you scoff. “Just cramps. I’ll take meds and it’ll be tolerable,”
He frowns. “Tolerable?”
You exhale, half laugh and half sigh. “Not everyone is blessed with cramps that go away when you take painkillers.”
Spencer hums. “Menstrual cramps shouldn’t be debilitating, though. You’ve been clutching your side for three minutes and twenty-seven seconds and it only seems to be getting worse, guessing from the way you’re acting and talking. I’ll call Hotch. You need to take time off and rest.”
You shake your head. “Don’t. Like you said, it shouldn’t interfere. I can do my job.”
Spencer calls him anyways, and while it rings, he tells you “you need to be at your best to do your job. You can miss half a day to feel better.”
You glare at him as he tells Hotch you had something come up and need the rest of the day off, and your frown deepens as he takes the SUV keys from your bag and guides you with a hand on the small of your back towards the passenger seat.
“I can walk, Spencer,” you snap. 
“I know. But I also know you’re in a lot of pain. I’m taking you back to the hotel.”
You sigh but climb in, shifting in the seat until the pain eases a little. Spencer doesn’t comment as he starts the car and plugs in the navigation.
“Thank you,” you say finally, grabbing your water and taking a sip.
“Don’t thank me just yet,” his lips quirk up. “I’m going to make sure you have a source of heat, your painkillers, plenty of fluid, your menstrual products, and that you don’t move in ways that would exacerbate it.”
You stare at him dumbly. “You’re going to babysit me?”
Spencer hums. “If that’s what it takes, Agent __.”
You scoff and turn to stare out the window, pointedly remaining silent as he chatters about studies and colloquial ideas about periods. He’s onto the idea of periods syncing by the time you get to your room, and your head is pounding.
“Spence,” you sigh. “Please shut up.”
He nods and crowds so close to you as you open the door that you couldn’t lock him out, even if you tried. He sits you on the edge of the bed and has you direct him to your painkillers.
“Take them,” he places them next to your water. “I’ll make a warm compress for you,”
As much as you hate that he’s babying you on a work day, it is… nice… that he cares so much and is doing it right. 
He hands you a warm and damp washcloth, averting his eyes respectfully as you peel off your tank top and place it on your stomach.
When he settles in an armchair, you stare at him. “You’re not going to the station?”
He glances up at you, stutters for a second. “I can help from here.”
You tilt your head. “Who?”
“You.” Spencer smiles, cheeks turning a little pink. “And I’m a call away if they really need me. The car’s outside.”
You can’t find a reason to make him leave, so you settle into silence, broken only by him flipping through case files occasionally.
A sharp shooting pain makes you groan, and you wince. Spencer is immediately by your side. 
You motion towards your pills and he sighs.
“There’s still another three hours until you can take more medication.”
“Fuck,” you whine. “I hate it here.”
Spencer chuckles. “Do you want help?”
You raise your brows. “How?”
Spencer pauses, weighing options. “I can rub your lower back and give a conflicting stimulus in the same area. It will be distracting and also pleasant. I’ve read about how to give massages and touch like a masseuse would.”
You sigh and roll over before flopping into the mattress, voice muffled when you say “go ahead.”
His hands are gentle and warm as he very gently places his palms on either side of your spine. His thumbs roll gentle circles on knots before transitioning to gentle slides and pulls that use both knuckles and fingertips, stretching the muscles and adding a light compressing pressure.
You moan softly at another wave of cramps and his touch mixing, and Spencer only hums, beginning to rub soothing circles with just enough pressure that you melt under him.
“You only read about it?”
“Mm,” Spencer mumbles. “Never had anyone to give a massage to.”
You pause for a moment. “Saving it for a special someone?”
Spencer softly says “something like that,” tracing his movement just a little lower to the dimples of your lower back. “Is it helping?”
“Yeah, Spence,” you mumble. “Feels nice. You’re good at it.”
It’s then that you realize he answered your question affirmatively.
“What kind of special someone?”
Spencer clears his throat. “Does it matter?”
You turn your head to look at him, as best as you can. “To me.”
Spencer sighs, shoulders drooping. “Someone I care for.” His words are careful, precise, almost clipped. “A person who I don’t mind contact with. There are so many pathogens in physical touch, it has to be someone I feel comfortable with.”
You smile, and you can’t help the teasing lilt to your voice. “Are you comfortable with me, Spencer?”
He chuckles. “You know I am, __,” his voice is impossibly soft. “I trust and care for you a great deal.”
Your cramps are long forgotten, and you turn under him. He helps you, hands on your waist helping you shift and reposition comfortably. “Really?”
Spencer swallows, and you look at him curiously. He’s still pink. Red, even. “Really.” 
You barely hear him, but you do, and you grin.
“Hey, Spence?” He hums to let you know he heard you, fingers loosening on your waist as he realizes he’s still holding onto you. “You know any other ways to help with cramps?”
Spencer coughs on air. “Um—” his voice is strained, clearly having thought of something he doesn’t quite feel is appropriate to voice. “… there are other things I can go buy you,”
You tilt your head. “But aren’t there studies about orgasms being beneficial?”
Spencer’s eyes widen. “__…” his voice is almost warning, soft and surprised.
“I trust and care a great deal for you too, Spencer,” you whisper, and his eyes flicker to your lips. “You said you’d help me with the pain.”
He only stares for a few moments. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
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i am on my period and therefore want spencer. simple math. girl math, even. also i am full of the rage of a thousand suns because i have severe cramps so forgive me for wanting him to fix me. i think he could do it. magical hands or something. not proofread like always never expect anything from me.
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desi2go · 1 month
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Importance
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pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader
warnings: angst, fluff
summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...
author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!
Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.
Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.
Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.
Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.
Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.
Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.
You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.
The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.
You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.
But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.
As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.
Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.
Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.
The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.
Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.
He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.
He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.
The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.
Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.
When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.
When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.
You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.
Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.
You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.
On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.
Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.
More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.
He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.
Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.
You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.
You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.
It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.
You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.
He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.
"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.
"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.
"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.
"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.
"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"
"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."
"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"
"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.
"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.
"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.
"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.
These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.
"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.
"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.
"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."
You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.
Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.
It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.
You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.
After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.
Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.
He just followed you, deep in thoughts.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.
"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."
"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.
His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.
"I love you Chan" you whispered.
"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"
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luvyeni · 11 months
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— CONSEQUENCES OF A ONE NIGHT STAND !
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( synopsis ). in which after a drunken hookup , y/n y/ln and are jake left with some heavy consequences and now they have to come to terms with it.
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pairings. sim jaeyun x fem!reader
genre. social media, stranger to lovers, pregnancy au, smut, fluff, angst, crack
warnings. mature content, sex, talk of sex, language, crude jokes, more tba...
started. 07-14-23
finished. tba
💬 nia's notes. this is only FICTION this does not represent enhypen in anyway.
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— 𖦹 PROFILES !
000. the new mother and the feral aunts and uncles , 000. the new father and the unhinged uncles
— 𖦹 MONTH ONE !
001. jump jake day , jobless jungwon and the cycle sisters 🤞🏻
002. baby shoes or bad food?
003. well , who is he ??
004. dots are connecting ....
005. from daddy 🥵😮‍💨 to just dad 🤢😐...
006. hey. heyy..
— 𖦹 MONTH TWO !
007. meeting the stranger...
008. little nugget 😭😭😭😭...
009. cupcakes 🧁
010. im being cooked😞
— 𖦹 MONTH THREE !
011. doctors appointment ✎
012. going home ...
013. im home ❤ ...
014. telling the parents (fail) ✎
015. first day on the job 👍🏻 ....
— 𖦹 MONTH FOUR !
016. a week of madness
017. on his last limb ...
018. playing house 🏡 ...
019. oh shit , he admitted it ...
020. jake not being a pussy 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
021. boy 👶🏻💙 or girl 👧🏻💕 ...
022. finally ... ✎
023. first date ( nice to see you again jake ) ...
— 𖦹 MONTH FIVE !
024. that wench 😒…
025. song jihae …
026. ni-ki about to fuck shit up …
027. explanations …
028. daddy and son date🤍…
029. sunoo finds out 😳…
030. jungwon explain…
031. it all comes out …
032. lol …
MONTH SIX IS A TIME SKIP !
— 𖦹 MONTH SEVEN !
033. she’s back ✨🖤
034. miserable …
035. stop reading my mind …
036. moving day ❗️…
037. ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
038. it all comes out ( jake version ) …
039. forgive ( friends? )…
— 𖦹 MONTH EIGHT !
040. back like i never left🔥💪🏼 …
041. we lost him 😔…
042. frustration + knife + hand = emergency room 😨 …
043. taking it slow …
044. it’s time …
045. they’re a family 🥲🥲🥲
EPILOGUE
046. watch baby minji grow up💕 …
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— ( taglist. ) ask to be added !
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©️LUVYENI
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vivwritesfics · 7 months
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Comatose
Second part to THIS blurb
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Lando stayed in the hospital for days on end. He gave Y/N updated and told her about the items she had received from fans while she was in the hospital.
The grid came to visit in groups of two or three. Oscar and Logan came together, Alex and George (who now drove for Sauber). Yuki, Pierre and Charles came to visit together, as did Carlos and Lewis. Max and Daniel went together, and Oscar arrived with Fernando Alonso.
"How you holding up?" Asked Oscar as he gave Lando the food she brought him.
Lando took the bag and looked through it. His favourites. Oscar really had become one of his best friends since their first season together. "No change," he answered.
No change wasn't a bad thing. It meant she wasn't getting any worse, but she wasn't getting any better. The nurses would assure Lando daily that she was bound to wake up soon.
Soon meant a week.
It was a full week that Y/N was in a coma. Lando never lost hope. He cried frustrated tears in the early hours of the morning when he was alone, but he never lost hope.
The grid visited when they could, but they soon had to fly off to the next grand prix. Y/N couldn't go (obviously), and Lando refused to leave her side, so Mercedes and McLaren both had to pull in their reserve drivers for the weekend.
Suddenly, Y/N stirred. Her head rolled to the side and her eyes slowly opened. The light in the room had her squeezing her eyes shut yet again. Y/N slowly opened them once more, letting them adjust to the bright, white room.
"Lan?" She croaked, looking to the chair beside her bed.
Lando jumped to his feet. he had never moved to fast before, coming to sit at her side. "Baby," he said grabbing a hold of her hand. "You're okay." He let out a relieved sigh, brushing her hair out of her face. "How do you feel?"
"Like shit, what happened?"
Lando had watched the video maybe a thousand times while he waited for Y/N to wake up. He'd gone over it time and time again, watching it zoomed in and in slow motion.
"You had a collision with another driver and the car spun out," he said.
"Oh," Y/N said. It was rather embarrassing, especially with Lando's lack of context. It was her first race and it had put her in a coma; she wouldn't be surprised if Mercedes wanted to drop her now.
Lando pressed a kiss to the top of her head and jumped from the bed. He ran off to get a nurse.
***
Y/N walked into the Mercedes garage, her boyfriend at her side. The first person to greet her was Lewis Hamilton. The seven time world champion pulled her in for a hug and placed his hand on her shoulder as he asked who she was.
And then Y/N moved onto her team principle. "Hey, Toto," she muttered as he pulled her into his side.
"How are you doing, Y/N?" He asked as he walked her over to her side of the garage, which Mick Schumacher was currently occupying. Mick, who was equally as worried for the driver he was replacing.
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "Definitely better than a few days ago," she answered. A few days ago was when she woke up, dazed and confused. "But I can't wait to get back in the car."
Toto frowned. "Do you know when you'll be good to go?"
"Doctor said three weeks, but I'll be in the sim until I'm back on the track."
Toto laughed at her. "Good to have you back, Y/N."
Taglist: @papayatifosi @eviethetheatrefreak @azuravoguelh
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