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#have you ever been in the waiting room of an ER in America before?
erenalias · 7 months
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“But House MD is unrealistic because of all the medical malpractice!!”
WRONG
House MD is unrealistic because he gives the proper diagnosis more often than not
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Once upon a time when employees are being interviewed at SI:
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Interviewer: So what is it like working for Iron Man?
Employee A: Oh! Easy question. I like that. It is an honor, you know. It's what I thought when I joined, and it still is now. But also, I did not expect that SI is a place where we are allowed to prioritize things like family. Like last time, I left my phone on silent at my desk cause I had to go to a meeting. My kid at home was having an emergency and I couldn't be reached. But apparently, Friday, Mr. Stark's AI, keeps track of phone vibrations so she made the report and someone came to notify me. I didn't even know there was a protocol for that. Turns out my daughter was having her period for the first time! And I'm a single father so I had no idea what to do and I was panicking. Next thing I know, an SI nurse came and apparently she was sent by Mr. Stark to walk me through how to help. Apparently, Fri also caught my panic rumblings and triggered 'YOU ARE NOT ALONE PROTOCOL' or something. (*laughing*) The next week, we received an official email introducing a new department called Human Care. They encourage everyone to reach out if we ever find ourselves out of our depths on non company emergency matters.
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Interviewer: How long have you been working here?
Employee B: Eight years, two months, six days and counting.
Interviewer: What's the weirdest thing you've witnessed here?
Employee B: (blanks out)
Employee B (struggling to think): Ahm. Really? Just one? Er- That's a tough one. Maybe that one time they set up a room for everyone to try lifting Thor's hammer? Or wait, no, maybe that time there when flying roombas were everywhere following Mr. Stark and reminding him to eat? Or when a villain came via the vents but before he could come down, Hawkeye accidentally hit him with pepper spray? I don't know, man. Weird things happen a lot. We're used to it by now.
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Interviewer: Do you feel safe working here?
Employee C: Yeah. The avengers live here. But to tell you the truth, I think Happy Hogan and his black tux team of agents scare all the potential bad guys away. I heard rumors that Black Widow personally trains them. Like, I know two of them. Jake, for instance. He's like a giant, and he is intimidating but I saw him crying one time and when I asked him why, he just said Mr. Hogan.
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Interviewer: Which avenger have you met?
Employee D: Oh, I've met two of them. Captain America and Thor. It was odd but one time, they were in the cafeteria and carrying trays of food and I do not mean just one each. Nope. Like, a ton! Like they're feeding an army. But it makes sense. Can you imagine the workout? With bodies like theirs? And the battles they go to? Man, if I have to save the world from aliens, I'll probably need the same nutrition.
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Interviewer: Which avenger is the kindest?
Employee E: Ahm...We all know they're all badass. But kindest, I think Spider-Man. Last Thursday, it was raining, and then Spidey suddenly came all wet and holding a box and I'm gonna quote him now. He said, "Friday, can you please ask Mr. Sam Wilson Falcon sir to come down? The shelter is close and I have a box of puppies and I really, really want to bring them up but Mr. Stark is gonna ban me from the lab again."
Interviewer: Aww. So what happened next? What did they do with the puppies?
Employee E (grinning): Falcon came down, alright. But he came with Iron Man who zoomed past everyone to drag Spidey to the penthouse. I am not sure what I heard but he was muttering about oven toasters and frozen spiderlings? In the end, aome employees volunteered to take care of them. But I believe two of them are at the avengers' floor. We saw Mr. Stark ranting about puppy paw paint marks on his armani.
Interviewer (gasps): Oh my. Was he mad?
Employee E (ends up laughing): Mad? Try grunting fondly? Peter really likes those puppies. Mr. Stark tried to act like he hates them but really, he adores everything about the kid, puppies included. He even had custom made collars with avengers logo made for them.
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Interviewer: I'm sorry? The Winter Soldier was asking directions to where?
Employee F: The Lego Store.
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Interviewer: How would you describe the workload? Do you still get work life balance?
Employee G: I guess it depends. I work in R&D and we're all nerds there. So like, we're typically busy but it's play for us. Some days, we're really cramped with work, mostly when deadlines are nearing or sometimes, we're just really in the zone, we do not want to stop. Peter activated 'NIGHT NIGHT PROTOCOL' for that. Had Fri lock us out of the lab and we had no choice but to go home or nap at the sleep wing. And would you believe? After the product launch, we got emails on mandatory vacation leaves with bonus to spend! Like, who does that? So yeah, it's cool working here.
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And then, there was this:
Interviewer: How does it feel to be the heir of a multibillion dollar top green tech company?
Peter (stares quizzically, dumb-founded): Uhhh-....Look, sorry, I think I'm in the wrong room. I'm not- Maybe you got the wrong questionnaire? I'm just an intern-
Interviewer: Oh. Wait. Is it top secret then? Sorry, I was told of your identity as Mr. Stark's kid so I thought I could ask. But if you're not comfortable-
Peter: WHAT!?? Who said that? They're probably just joking.
Interviewer (chuckles nervously): Ms. Potts did actually.
Peter (freezes): Oh.
Suddenly the door opens and Tony walks in.
Tony: Hey kid, and Ms. Carrenland. How's the interview going? Thought I'd drop by for moral support, you know.
Peter (looks torn, but excuses himself to go to Tony): Uhm, Mr. Stark, can I talk to you for a second? Look, sir, ahm, I think there's been a misunderstanding. The interviewer asks me how it feels to be your heir. Like that's real. I don't-
Tony (has his brows rising to his hairline): Kid. Peter. Breathe.
Peter (groans and sighs embarrassingly): I just didn't want to lie! They mistook me for someone else. It was a misunderstanding!
Tony (smirking): It's really not.
Peter: What?
Tony: Kiddo, I was the one who gave Pep the approval to sign the questions. And really, you've been managing the R&D department and shadowing Pep at management for a year now. You never wondered why I make you do that?
Peter: Oh.
Tony: Yup. Genius child here.
Peter: I just wanted to help. You seem stressed out with the Avengers' work and dealing with the government. I thought I could lend a hand. I didn't- I don't expect you to- I'm not worth that, Mr. Stark.
Tony (scoffs): I beg to differ. Look, I'll be honest with you. Even if you aren't interested in the company, it's still gonna be yours. Look around you, kid. Do you think I let just anyone go around with a free pass at my tower? You have a room at my home. This place is your home, as where as everywhere else that I own. Plus, it's another motivation for you to take care of yourself when you go out as Spidey. Imagine all our employees. They need you, kiddo.
Peter (mumbling softly): I'm just Peter Parker.
Tony (smiles and pats his shoulder): And that is why I chose you.
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storyarcscribe · 2 years
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Hi!! If you write for moon boys, would you please consider a prompt about f!reader x Steven stuck in an elevator? We all know that building is old enough :) strangers to friends/lovers, no ER. Smut or no smut - you decide :) if this prompt is not interesting for you, feel free to skip it! Have a good day :)
Oh I've been WAITING for this one, my beautiful anon....
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Stuck with a Stranger
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1K
Summary: On your first day for a new job, being trapped on an old lift with a neighbor doesn't seem all that bad.
A/N: First Moon Knight fic EVER. Did I get this right? Keep me honest as I love this show and would love to keep writing on it!
Warnings: Pure fluff, tired and beautiful Steven Grant, me trying to relive my days living in London for college, an American trying her damn best to write in a British voice
Masterlist & How to Send a Prompt | Read on AO3
Reblogs and feedback are appreciated, loves!
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Moving from America on a work visa, you had no idea what a flat could be like before moving to London. You expected a chic, Victorian style building with beautiful ceiling and a park across the street. A fool’s fantasy, but it was one you dreamed of as a little girl. 
Your new building wasn’t Buckingham Palace.
You didn’t think it was even up to code.
The flat served its purpose though. It was spacious, albeit old and falling apart. You were pretty sure your landlord refused to update anything past 2002. However, your commute was short, and you were close to everything via tube. Your older neighbor brought a pound cake to your door last night, welcoming you to the building. Residents were quiet and relatively all older or of working age. 
Today was your first day of work. You landed your dream job in your dream city. Everything today had to be perfect. You dressed sharp. Pencil skirt. Blouse. Blazer. Not a crease or stain in sight. You brewed your favorite tea and managed to pull back your hair into a decent style.
Stepping into the lift, you sipped your tea and checked your watch. 8:15 a.m. Perfect. You would have plenty of time to set up your things and meet your new team before the work day started. 
“Hold the lift!” A voice shouted down the hallway. 
You looked up from your watch to see a struggling man with a stack of papers rush to lock his door. You held an arm against the door to keep it open—no good making an enemy of your neighbor. With a final tug, he closed the door and rushed to the lift. He only noticed you when the lift doors closed as he struggled for breath. He wore a dark button-down collared shirt and stained trousers. The stranger's curly hair was wild, like he didn’t even brush it through, the curls overlapping in every direction. The papers he clutched were a crumpled mess. 
“Cheers,” he breathed. 
His eyes connected with you like a deer in headlights. He was handsome, though, that much you could tell yourself. You couldn’t get past the the purple under his eyes. The curls fell over his forehead, framing his large, brown eyes that went so wide you could see your reflection in them. 
He cleared his throat, his apple’s adam bobbing under the tight collar of his shirt. “T-thank you.”
The doors shut, and the lift began to descend. You forgot how slow this damn thing was until you were in it. Then, finally, one floor passed after what seemed like an eternity. 
He shuffled around, trying to give you some room until some of the papers fell from his hand, scattering across the ground.
“Oh.. bloody hell,” he mumbled, attempting to pick up the paper. He looked like a baby bird trying to pick up a worm. 
“Here,” you placed your ceramic cup on the ground. “Let me.”
You squatted as gracefully as you could in a pencil skirt. Another floor went by. 
“Oh goodness,” he blushed. “Please, don’t. I’ve made a mess of myself…”
You lifted a paper to him that flew closer to your corner. “It’s okay-“
The lift jerked to a stop, causing you to lose your balance. He fell against the obsidian wall, arms falling out to catch himself as he balanced himself in the corner. The rest of the papers were scattered across the floor. Something metal-like screeched along the top of the lift. You struggled to regain your footing. 
He stepped forward, hitting the ground-level button. Nothing. He hit your floor’s number. Nothing. 
You pulled out your cell and tried looking up a phone line. No service. 
“Great,” you deadpanned. Fan-fucking-tastic. Your first day of work and a first impression was going straight to the gutter. 
“It’s fine,” he assured. “Someone will have to notice.”
A light bulb above you went out. 
“Eventually,” he murmured.
“Sure about that?” You breathed. 
Your very tried neighbor paled. “Donna’s gonna kill me.”
“Donna?” You repeated. 
He looked frazzled for a moment like he didn’t expect you to hear that. “My boss.”
You sighed, understanding. “At least you’re not starting a new job.”
“Oh goodness,” he lamented. “They’ll understand, yeah? Has to be on the list of excuses you can say on this first day.”
You attempted a smile. “And that won’t work with… Donna?”
“Oh, no,” He scoffed. “I’ll be in the manager’s office as soon as I walk in.”
You snorted, and he smiled like he didn’t even realize he made any joke.  
As you two sat on the lift floor, the conversation flowed easily. He had lived alone in this building for a few months, worked at the National Art Gallery, and had a goldfish. You shared your recent move for a new job, furniture hunting, and adjusting to the British lifestyle. He was easy to talk to, looking at you as he held to every word you said. You had never captured the attention of someone like this before. 
“What do you like about living here?” You asked candidly. 
His brows furrowed. “Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
Steven thought carefully, lost in thought. “London’s a city where you can be your own person, yeah? There are so many of us here, new and old. So much history, but it changes every minute of every day.”
Words failed you for a moment as he twiddled with his hands. 
“It’s a city for everyone,” he shrugged with a sheepish smile. 
There was such hope in his eyes like today wasn’t possibly the day this stranger you met would not get fired. In his tired eyes, you saw such wonder for life. 
“Corny?” He asked candidly.
“No,” you disagreed whole-heartedly. “It was perfect.”
The elevator groaned back to life. 
“Clearly,” you smiled. “The lift like that answer, too.”
As the doors opened, you introduced your name with a soft smile. 
“Steven Grant,” he answered back with a little wave. 
The action might have been amusing to any other human being, but he was so genuine with warmth in your eyes that you couldn’t help but embrace it. He was so much more relaxed even as he bounced on his toes. The tiredness in his eyes was replaced by something else. 
As you departed from the building together for the tube, you couldn’t help but be grateful for your old building allowing your kind neighbor who makes being in a new city easier to manage. 
On the following day for work, you waited an extra minute as Steven flung himself out of the door, late for work again. For some reason, you wished the old lift would stop again, giving you an extra moment with your neighbor.
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A/N: awwwwww :) Ooof maybe I should do a Jake and Marc elevator meet q as well because this was FUN.
Thank you for reading and follow for more of our Moon Boys! 🌙
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mixdgrlproblems · 2 years
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sorry i haven't updated any of my social media platforms with anything. my mental health is pretty bad rn and healthcare in america is a joke. ive been having panic attacks constantly since wednesday night and here i am no better than before. im expected to lock myself away from the world and give up my cell phone, no exceptions (even though they say they can't make you do something you don't wanna do) or hope i make it to monday and then hope someone can help me. don't have a mental health crisis on a weekend, they'll treat you just like everyone else. wait til monday. i can't believe im still conscious enough to write this. if you have had one panic attack every blue moon or even more frequently, you know how painful that is. imagine having that happen to you for 4 days straight. my heart is strong as hell cuz why haven't i passed out or have a heart attack dealing with this for so long. people expect me to continue to just breathe through it. so im supposed to suffer through this bc no one wants liability for giving me something that can make me worse. at this point ill take anything. and i mean anything. a certain way has been on my mind but i dont want to do it. i want to be able to breathe normally for 24 hours at least. hell i'll take from breakfast to lunch. its recurring every few hours and everyone is asking me do this or why didn't this person do that. the answers are: i did and you fucking tell me. my nurse practitioner who has been prescribing me my depression and anxiety medication for the past 2 years all of a sudden cant just give me something to sedate me "for my safety", no its for theirs at this point. im on the floor crying and hyperventilating and they're like go to the emergency room and the er says well whoever prescribes me my mental health prescriptions, why didn't they do anything. why why why. back and forth back and forth. i literally feel like im on the worst customer service call ever and im being transferred in person from place to place. ive been to 2 hospitals and a mental health center and they couldn't help me. this has been happening since wednesday so why did no one do anything during those 2 days if i cant get care over the weekend. im afraid on monday they're gonna tell me the same thing and i'll literally lose my mind. that's why im shocked im still able to be coherent.
if you ever read, see, hear people who succumb or reach their breaking point from now on, dont fucking say "why didn't they just ask for help" bc they did. i did. for days. ask why wasn't there help available when they simply asked? begged for it? im now blaming american healthcare as the reason why people succumb from suicide from now on. not bc they just went crazy and sadly had no one to turn to.
never fucking say WHY DIDNT THEY JUST ASK FOR HELP ever again or i will go apeshit and scream. im posting this now in case i have to copy and paste this anywhere else.
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harlowwrites · 3 years
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Unlucky.
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[Not my gif]
Pairing: Yandere! Steve Rogers x Gender neutral! reader
Warnings: Other than mentions of drugging not much I guess
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4 years.
Oh yeah, you counted the years from when you finally escaped his grasp. You inhaled the fresh air, You had moved from the busy city life and into the country side, completely changing your identity.
You lived as Amara Harper, Not Y/n L/n, Amara Harper. It was crucial that you stayed on your toes at all times, you didn’t even want to fathom what would happen if you got caught again.
You stood up from under the tree and looked at your pocket watch, you trashed the watch he gifted you, You knew he put a tracker in it you weren’t dumb. You left anything remotely modern and completely gave into the country style.
“G’morning Amara nice day out eh?” Mr. Carter, You nodded and gave him a soft smile, “I agree sir, That’s why I’m out here enjoying it what about you?” 
“Oh don’t mind me darlin’ just getting some tools.” He laughed as he waved a final goodbye letting sigh a relief. You were gripping your book so hard it nearly tore.
Darling.
You shivered even though the sun was perfectly warm, you felt cold, that word reminded you so much of him, The man that literally kept you behind bars. The man that thought he was doing the right thing. You didn’t want to remember him, no, so you started walking back to your small cabin to freshen up.
While walking you couldn’t help but notice footprints going the same direction to your house, Huh?, you didn’t remember giving anyone but Mr. Carter your address. He had to deliver you food and certain groceries because you lived up on the hill.
“No... it can’t be him.” You mumbled to yourself as you picked up your pace up the hill, afraid, there was no way he could’ve ever found you again it had been years. He should’ve forgotten you by now.
You shook your head, trying to get that thought of your head.
--
Yawning you took out the keys from your basket but noticed the door was opened a little, You froze and reached for the door handle opening it slightly so you could see who it was.
“No...” You whispered as he stood in the far corner of your living room leaning on a wall, He turned his head in your direction and you immediately flinched. Why... No, how did he find you?
You made sure to trash anything that led to you, you don’t even have a phone for fucks sake so how... How? 
“Don’t waste your time thinking about how I got here, darling.” He chuckled darkly as he walked closer to you. You slowly turned your head to leave when you felt his arm snake around your hip, You whipped your head around to meet his eyes but he had already pushed you into his chest and pulled you into your house.
The warmth... Oh how you missed it, cuddling him on his couch hearing his soothing heartbeat not caring about the world because he took care of you. No, what were you thinking? You couldn’t be lured into his honey trap again, you wouldn’t be able to get out again.
He drugged you. Numerous amounts of times just because you wanted to go out and have fun, of course he couldn’t let that happen, his angel was too pure for the world. 
He was delusional, he caged you in his house, not letting you see the sun ever again.
You pushed at his chest, refusing to like his embrace. Steve chuckled, he looked down and sighed ruffling your hair in the process. “Don’t struggle and accept it.”
“No! I will never accept this... this shit!” Punching his chest, hoping he would let you go.
“Watch your language.” He growled, you stifled a quiet whimper, the memories immediately flooding back into your head. He pet your head as he felt you relax in his embrace. He smiled to himself thinking that you finally let him take care of you.
"Don’t worry bunny, I won’t let you run away again.” He whispered into your ear while playing with your hair. Without warning he picked you up with ease, he pushed the door open and started walking.
Steve’s voice still repeating in your head; I won’t let you run away again. It kept you in a trance. Still in a daze, you looked around, the warm sun hitting the both of you making you squint.
Shit.
It hit you all at once, he had found you again, how could you let this happen? You started yelling, you didn’t know for who but you just hoped someone was nearby.
“Help! Please anyone!” Steve immediately glared down at you, he undid his tie and harshly stuffed it into your mouth, he suddenly gripped your chin, “You better behave, bunny.” 
As Steve was glaring at you, Mr. Carter walked around the corner. Hope suddenly refilled you flailed your arms trying to get him to look over here. 
“Oh, er, Aren’t you that Captain America guy?” Mr. Carter said as he adjusted his glasses. “Why is Amara in your arms? Yer kidnapping them or something?” He said obviously joking.
Steve tensed up but brushed it off and smiled at him with his signature smile. “they got into a little... trouble on the way up, had to save them sir. their ankle is twisted.” He replied calmly but you knew he was fuming inside.
Mr. Carter nodded and waved him a goodbye before turning the corner and ultimately leaving, your only hope. Steve turned around and hugged you tighter grumbling about distractions from his darling.
You glared at him, that was utter bullshit, he is kidnapping you. He was a psycho and you hated yourself for ever falling in love with him in the first place.
--
You sighed and looked at the counter in boredom, it was empty, You worked at a diner that only served breakfast and it was noon so the diner was basically deserted.
“Can’t we go, I’m honestly sure no one is going to come for breakfast at 12:30 in the afternoon.” You said as you picked at the leftover food next to you. Your manager, Wanda, laughed and walked next to you wrapping her arm around your shoulder.
“Just wait another hour, Captain America is about to walk through.” You looked at her in disbelief as she said that. “I’m not lying!” You snorted. “Yeah right.”
 She rolled her eyes and shook you, “Cheer up, make yourself a sandwich or something to pass the time.” You mumbled a ok and slumped in your chair.
Wanda was such a nice manager, you were a little lucky in that sense. Only a little though.
Time had passed and one sandwich was gone, You looked up at the clock; 1:30 pm, huh. He should be walking in anytime soon. You brushed your apron down and dusted the remainder of the bread crumbs away.
Ding, the doorbell rang as the towering man walked in, Wow, you thought, he is built like a Greek statue. His shirt was tight around his chest and his biceps. You couldn’t help but stare.
He chuckled a little and took off his sunglasses, letting you get a glimpse of his perfect blue eyes. God, you’ve seen them in pictures and posters but seeing them in real life was so... surreal.
Steve finally took a seat and you handed him a menu, “Ah, I’m fine doll I’ve been here way too many times, Wanda know what I want you can go ahead and ask her.”
“Oh alright then, uh coming right up!” 
Doll, Doll, Doll.
That nickname was going to drive you insane.
You walked into the kitchen, Wanda already handing you his regular. “Wh-”
“He asked you to talk to me right?” She asked not looking up at the stove, You nod but then say yes forgetting she couldn’t see you.
“Yep, made it already, No need to thank me hun.” She leaned on the counter with a rag on her shoulder. Wanda winked at you and urged you to go out and give it to him.
You quickly thank her and walk out holding the plate in one hand and his drink in the other.
“Here you go and here you go.” You place his food and warmly smiled at him.
“Thank you doll.” He grabbed your hand and placed a 20 dollar note in your hand before you could leave. “Oh sir... No I can’t accept this, It’s too much.” You were stunned to say the least, you never got this much as a tip.
“Don’t worry about it.” He waved you off and started eating, You slowly started to walk off, pocketing the 20 dollars smiling widely.
Steve looked back up at you, he smiled, The way you talked to him was... warm. You weren’t all over him like the others you were a warm ray of sunshine. You disappeared behind the door and a wave of panic rushed over him.
He knew you left to go back to the kitchen, you worked here but he didn’t want you to leave.... He needed to protect you so you wouldn’t change. He got up and left money enough to pay for his food and left.
--
After that, everything went downhill from there.
The kidnapping, the constant manipulation you couldn’t take it anymore so you finally escaped.
And now you were back in his arms.
How unlucky.
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A/n: a simple oneshot, hope you enjoy !
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let-me-luve-you · 3 years
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Dr. Holland
Tom Holland x Sister
Summary: Tom’s big sister is the hardest working person he knows. He is extremely proud of her and he can’t stop himself from talking about her during an interview.
Warnings: Overworked, maybe some angst, loving siblings, mentions of doctor work
MASTERLIST
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Tom sighed as he got a text from you saying that you were scheduled to work the one week he was home. Another message followed saying you only had to work three days instead of the normal five. You were an emergency room doctor and you worked a lot. Tom was proud of his older sister. She worked her but off through medical school to get where she was. Now she was working her butt off to get the position you really wanted, Pediatric Oncologist.
Tom had been filming Spider-Man in America when you were going through medical school. You would call him to keep you company while you were studying. And when time was on his side, he would quiz you. Tom never thought he was smart enough to become a doctor, but he knew enough to get by now.
It was early Wednesday morning when you pulled up at Tom’s house. You had gotten off work at 6am and stopped by your house to shower and change clothes. Tom had texted you last night that he had a few Zoom interviews this afternoon that would take a few hours of his time. Tom told you that you were free to sleep in his room after breakfast. But with only a few days with your brother, you decided you could sleep at night when they sleep.
You took the key Tom gave you for when you house sit and let yourself in. The house was quiet so you knew everyone was still asleep. You moved towards the kitchen. You sat your purse down and went straight to the coffee machine. Normally you would drink tea, but after a long night and soon to be long day, you needed all the help you could get to stay awake. While waiting on the coffee to be made, you took out all the pans and ingredients you would need to make breakfast. You decided to make breakfast burritos since those were your favorite and you didn’t get them often.
Halfway through cooking the sausage, bacon, and eggs, Tom walked in rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hair flying every which way. He walked over to you and gave you a big hug. You smiled into his chest.
“Still short, I see.” Tom said with sleep lacing his voice.
“Still rude, I see.” You said back.
Tom squeezed you tighter, “I missed you.”
“Missed you to bubs.” You pulled back and watched him walk towards the coffee pot. You gave a small laugh and turned back to what was at hand.
“How’s the hospital been?” He asked as he sat on the counter next to the stove so he could see your face while he talked to you.
“It’s been good. Being in the ER means inconsistent hours and long shifts. Dr. Hamilton is planning on retiring in the next few months and he's told them my name as a replacement. Hopefully that works out so I can finally be a Pediatric Oncologist.” You said.
“I know you’ll get it and you'll be the best at your job.” Tom said matter of fact.
“Thanks. I hope I get it. If not, I may have to switch hospitals. I don’t think I can stay in the ER. I had night shifts this week. Day shifts last week. I went from day to night on Sunday. I had six hours off to rest since they made me work this weekend. They messed up the schedule but if I asked for Sunday night off, they were going to make me work the rest of the week.” You said taking all the food you just made to the island. Tom followed you and sat at the counter. You started fixing his burrito.
“I can make my own you know?” He said with a laugh. “But honestly. Stick it out. No one is more deserving of that position than you. You care for the kids and you know exactly what you are doing. Everything will work out. I’m so proud of you. Don’t know if I tell you that enough, but I am.”
“Thanks Tom.” You smiled at him. After making your burritos, you continued to talk about everything in your lives. He caught you up on the movies he was doing. He explained what the interviews were for. You just stared at him in awe as you saw the passionate look in his eyes when talking about acting.
A few hours after breakfast, you went to sit with Tom in his office. You laid out on the couch joking with him before his interview. Tom’s phone rang and he saw that it was his manager so he answered. Ten minutes later when he hung up he looked at you asleep on the couch. He stood up and grabbed the blanket and laid it across you. He knew that you would be out the whole time he did interviews as long as he didn’t make any sudden sounds. Tom was grateful the call through his computer rang through his AirPods. That sound would have woken you up and he knows you need sleep. Tom clicked the green answer button and was met with a smiling reporter.
“Hello Tom. How are you today?” The reporter asked.
“I’m doing great. How about yourself?” Tom asked back. Talking quieter than he normally would for something like this. His eyes drifted up to you to see if you moved and he didn’t even see you flinch.
“I’m doing great. Thank you for asking. So my name is Gerald. I’m with Buzzfeed. And I wanted to start this interview off asking what you’ve been up to these last few months.”
“Well, I’ve been in Germany working on a movie. Can’t go into detail just yet about it, but news will be dropping soon.” Tom checked one more time on you before he moved his full attention onto Gerald. “Sorry if I’m talking quieter than usual. My sister is asleep on my office couch. She’s been working like crazy lately so I didn’t have the heart to wake her.”
“Your volume is perfectly fine. If you don’t mind me asking, what does your sister do? We know about your other brothers since they are more involved in your line of work. They even travel with you. But we don’t really know a lot about your sister.” Gerald asked.
“My sister is amazing. Her name is Y/N. She’s a few years older than me. She is currently a doctor at one of the hospitals here in London. She’s been an emergency doctor but she is working towards becoming a Pediatric Oncologist.”
“That sounds fancy. What is that?” He asked.
“It’s a doctor that treats children with cancer. Y/N has worked so hard to get to that point. She’s so caring and loving and knows so much that I think she would be the perfect fit in any hospital in that position.”
“You sound proud of her.” Gerald said, pointing out the fact.
“I’m incredibly proud of her. She is just so amazing at everything but I was in the front row watching her work to this point. I wasn’t ever great at school and she was always working for those perfect grades. She would let me study with her so she could help when I needed it. I was her first call when she was accepted into med school. I remember crying when she told me that because I knew the work she had put in during undergrad to get there.” Tom said as he looked up at you. You were still sleeping soundly and Tom smiled at that.
“When I was filming Spider-Man: Homecoming, she would call me. It would be six or seven o’clock at night where I was and so I knew it was around midnight her time. She just wanted my company while she studied. She was so used to us working together she needed me there to help concentrate. She would email me her note cards and I would spend hours quizzing her. We were close before that, but we were almost inseparable after that. She’s my big sister and I love her and I’m so, so proud of her.”
“It sounds like it. It’s refreshing hearing you say such great things about your sister. I bet the whole family is proud of the both of you.” Gerald added.
“I know we are all proud of Y/N. For me, I know my family is proud, but what I do doesn’t even come close to what she does. After not seeing her for months due to COVID, any good I do, will never compare to the good she does.” Tom said thinking of those awful months you refused to see your family so you didn’t put them at risk.
“Well, tell her we appreciate the work she does. We would love to meet her sometime. You should bring her around a set or press tour sometime.”
Tom laughed. “I’ll have to try. She always turns me down though. Maybe if I film in London. But she does always make it to my premieres. Thankfully we almost always have one here in London, so it’s easier for her, but she’s made the trip to LA a couple of times.”
“Can’t wait to meet her one day.” Tom smiled at Gerald. “So you said you’ve been in Germany…”
Gerald continued with his interview. Once he was finished with that one he went right into the next. He spent three hours doing interviews and you never woke up once. He was grateful you were getting rest. When the final interview ended, Tom went over to you and gently picked you up. You stirred in his arms.
“Tom?” You said tiredly and confused. “Where are you taking me?”
“My room. You need more sleep and I need a nap. We can go out for dinner afterwards.” He said as he sat you on his bed. He walked to the other side.
“Okay.” You said rolling over towards him. “I love you bubs.” You whispered. Tom wrapped you in his arms and kissed you on the head.
“Love you too y/n/n.” He whispered back before you both fell asleep.
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awheckery · 3 years
Text
so. uh.
cut for frank discussion of chronic illness and the serious failures of the american healthcare system. tw for fatphobia and gaslighting.
Last July, I got sick. It wasn’t too bad at first: some fatigue, body aches and a slightly elevated temp, until suddenly it was bad and I wound up in the ER. It took three rounds of steroids, a round of antibiotics and a more powerful inhaler to get my feet back under me, but I never fully recovered.
I didn’t talk about it here, except for answering an ask in October and blaming my lack of creative output on depression. It really, really wasn’t depression; it was my health progressively collapsing, one system after another until the avalanche of symptoms that flattened me just after New Year’s.
For the last four months, I’ve spiked a fever over 100°F nearly every single day. My joints hurt. My knuckles are knobbly and swollen, and occasionally my fingers are so painful and weak I’ve had to literally tape my pen to my hand at work. I get rashes at random that itch so badly I claw myself bloody. I overheat and have hot flashes in temperate rooms. The skin on my face and neck and shoulders turns red and hot to the touch, like I’m burning for hours with no immediately discernible provocation.
Some days, I wake up and I don’t have the strength to get out of bed. Some days I can’t wake up at all. I’ve slept through deafening alarms for hours, long enough for my phone battery to run out and die. I can only stand up for ten minutes a day without being hobbled by the effort, and every extra minute beyond that I pay for in hours spent bedbound by exhaustion and pain.
I keep losing words. I’ll arrive at the middle of a sentence and stumble to a halt, because the word I need isn’t there. It’s not true aphasia, and it’s not all the time. I comprehend written and verbal communication perfectly well, but I can’t get my own thoughts out without tripping over them.
I am, to quote a friend attending school to be a nurse practitioner, “a textbook case for SLE,” and I agree, but somehow I can’t pay a doctor to treat me seriously.
In January, I was referred to a rheumatologist after the bloodwork my PCP ordered indicated I had autoimmune activity of some kind.
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To date, that’s my only test for anything that’s come out definitively positive for any kind of disease state at all. Ever. I tested negative for celiac disease on a technicality nine years ago, despite how specifically and intensely sick gluten makes me, so I was dismayed but not too surprised when follow-up bloodwork for lupus came back just barely inside the range of “normal.” Despite that, I wasn’t prepared to be jerked around as much as I have been.
The first rheumatologist I saw, back at the end of January, had barely been in the exam room for thirty seconds when I could see he’d already made up his mind about me. He was dismissive and perfunctory and condescending when he told me that “plenty of perfectly healthy people have positive ANA results,” and he referred me back to my PCP for an exercise program and antidepressants to treat my “fibromyalgia.”
Putting aside that I’m not a “perfectly healthy person,” I’m a Fat Lady living in America, and I’ve experienced medical fatphobia for decades at this point. You learn the key words and phrases pretty quickly, and “exercise program” has never not been a euphemism for “weight loss.” (Which is heavily ironic in this particular situation, because before I was Fat, I walked 2-3 miles a day for funsies and spent 15-20 hours in the gym every week. I only stopped because I somehow shredded both my ACLs in one summer. I’d love to get back to that if a rheumatologist could help me figure out how to be active and uninjured at the same time.)
I was frustrated after that first appointment, enough to request a referral to one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. Why not go to the best, right? There was a five month wait for an appointment, but I am stubborn, and I made use of the time by documenting every bullshit symptom my body threw at me. I have a daily symptom journal, full of subjective entries like my pain and fatigue levels, as well as objective entries like daily temperature changes and photos of my rashes and my burning face and my goddamn mouth ulcers.
I thought I had enough logged to be impossible to ignore, and then I saw the second rheumatologist three weeks ago, and the first sentence out of her mouth was the beginning of an interrogation on my blood pressure, and whether I was taking medication or if I was on a fucking exercise program for it. I tried to get the appointment back on track by sharing my symptom diary, and she turned back to my just-under-the-wire test results, and told me, “many healthy people have positive ANA results, it doesn’t mean anything without other positive test results for specific conditions.”
I said, “Healthy people don’t run a fever for months.”
And then she told me that a "fever is not associated with any of the conditions a rheumatologist treats." I was so startled by the confidence and authority with which she stated the lie that I was unable to speak to rouse a defense or contribute anything else for the rest of the appointment. After an insultingly brief examination, in which I never took my face mask off and she declined to look at any of my photos, she said that she “didn’t see anything that could be rheumatologically wrong with me.”
I asked her what she thought could be wrong with me, and she grudgingly admitted it’s possible, though rare to have an autoimmune disease and test negative for everything, so she would order more tests and refer me to appropriate specialists for my various symptoms. She ordered a referral to an infectious disease specialist for my fevers, and a referral to a dermatologist for my “rosacea” (that she’s assuming I have, because I would like to again note she did not see it, at no point did she actually look at my face or a photo of it), and a referral to an ENT for a salivary gland biopsy for my dry mouth, and a referral to a neurologist for my “stroke-like” memory and speech problems.
It was, all told, an unbearably shitty appointment. I cried in my car for an hour in the hospital parking garage so I wouldn’t do anything impulsive like lying down in traffic, and then I went home, cried some more, and went to bed for three days.
On the fourth day, I woke up enraged. It’s one thing to be blown off by a doctor when you’re just reporting symptoms without proof, it’s a wholly different thing for a doctor to ignore your proof and lie about diagnostic criteria to your face.
It’s hard enough not to think you’re crazy when your test results come back negative over and over; it’s that much harder after being told that your major concrete measurable symptom is diagnostically irrelevant, when it really, really isn’t.
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(for the record, just going off the symptoms I can concretely prove I’ve experienced in the last week alone, I land a 16 on this chart, which is the most up-to-date, widely agreed-upon diagnostic criteria)
I have decided, for the moment, to play ball. I don’t have the energy to jump through all the hoops this rheumatologist wants, but I'm angry enough to drag myself through them. Tomorrow I’m supposed to see the infectious diseases specialist. On Wednesday I see the dermatologist. In two weeks I see the ENT, and I’ve got a neurology appointment tentatively scheduled for December.
I’m going to be blisteringly forthright with all of these doctors about why I’m there, and that I’m looking to exclude diagnoses other than the lupus I pretty obviously have. (Except with the ENT. Apparently they treat allergies, and I’d like to be able to go outside long enough to walk a dog, someday.)
I’m supposed to see this rheumatologist again at the end of November. Depending on how this week’s appointments go, I’m aiming to either move up my appointment with her when one becomes available, or just send a firm yet diplomatic email asking why the diagnostic criteria apply to everyone but me.
If anybody else has gotten through this fucking nightmare successfully, I’m open to suggestions, it’s not like it can get worse at this point.
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gubler-me-up · 3 years
Text
Lost in Translation
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Request(s): Hey :) Can i make a Spencer request? Something like that episode in Mexico, with a bilingual reader please <3 Like a trip and he realizes that the reader can speak Spanish, he's kinda mesmerized and she helps the team to get more information about the unsub
hey beautiful :) could u write something (literally anything) where the reader speaks another language or like they have an australian accent or smthg and they have to like translate for the team and spencer just thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world and then the reader gets real worked up and starts yelling in the other language and spencer is just like skdkdmend,,,,u don’t have to if u don’t wanna but like i love u sm ur amazing 
A/N: Thanks for the first request @cryingforwill​ and shout out to the anon who sent the second request! Can y’all believe this is my last fic of 2020? Being posted early? New year, new me (maybe)! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting my work for the last four months of 2020 you literally ROCK 🗣 btw I am by no means bilingual (maybe a lil French but that’s it) so all the Spanish being spoken in this fic is straight from Google Translate so pls forgive me if it doesn’t translate properly and if you’re like me and don’t know Spanish pls have Google Translate on deck while reading
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader
Category: Fluff
Content warning: Swearing, semi-nudity, mentions of violence 
Word count: 2k
————-
It was rare that the team travelled abroad for a case but when an unsub was on the run to Mexico they had no choice to follow their tracks. The team landed in Mexico within a day of finding out the unsub had fled. They didn’t waste time scoping out places the unsub could possibly be according to eyewitness reports.
Unfortunately for Spencer he got stuck with surveilling at the beach with Morgan in the hot sun. They made sure to dress for the part by wearing swim trunks and sunglasses. Well, that’s what Morgan was wearing. Spencer opted to wear a white t-shirt,  brown khaki pants and a pair of black converse.
Morgan had begged him to change into something else so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Spencer insisted that if he just stayed on the outskirts of the beach he would look like a tourist sightseeing. The explanation earned him an eye roll and look of disappointment from Morgan.
No matter the amount of disappointment Morgan felt, the surveillance plan went as planned. Morgan went on the beach to blend in with locals and tourists so he could ask people if they had seen the unsub as well as scoping the area for him. Spencer stayed just at the border of the beach surveilling the area. Whenever someone would pass by he would ask them if they had seen the unsub.
From a handful of people ignoring him to them just giving him a weird look, he felt as if he actually did look a bit weird in his attire. He sighed and decided it might be best if he did some surveillance from the car with his pair of binoculars. Before he could turn around to leave, a volleyball hit his feet.
He looked down and picked it up. He had no idea why he picked it up considering he didn’t know who to give it to. Even if he did he wouldn’t embarrass himself trying to hit it back to the person it belonged to. Volleyball was apart of his long list of sports he wasn’t good at.
“Hey, sorry, that’s mine.”
He looked in the direction of where the voice was yelling. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw a gorgeous woman running towards him. He tried to be respectful and not stare for too long considering she was wearing a bikini. He didn’t want her to think he was a creep or even worse, the unsub.
She smiled as she made her way right in front of him. She held out her hands for him to give her back the ball. He looked down at her hands and then at his. He silently went “oh” as he realized he still had the ball in his hand.
“Sorry,” he said as he handed her the ball.
She looked him up and down with a questionable look. She looked back at his face. Spencer for sure thought she was going to treat him like the rest and pretend he just wasn’t there. To his surprise she smiled at him.
“¿Eres de eta zona?” She asked.
He shook his head. “No, no lo soy.”
She giggled. “Por la forma en que mataste tu sentencia, puedo decir que eres de los Estados Unidos.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Supongo que eras de la zona.”
She nodded her head. She reached into her bikini top. He watched carefully to see what she was about to pull out. He then realized there’s no way she could be hiding a weapon in her bikini top so he strayed his eyes away from her breast.
She saw how flustered he had become and laughed at how his pale face turned red. She pulled out her I.D. card to show him who she was. He looked at her surprised when he read her identification.
“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m originally from America myself but I opted to work for the Policía Federal after serving my time as a special agent at the FBI California headquarters. I’m here to be of assistance to you and your team, agent,” she said.
“How did you know I was-”
“My team was informed by your unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, that an unsub had crossed over to our borders, so we know everyone on your team. Also, no one dresses like that unless they’re undercover.”
Spencer looked down at his attire. He guessed Morgan had a valid point of him sticking out. She laughed and grabbed his hand to escort him onto the beach. He hesitantly held back.
“I hate sand in my shoes,” he complained.
“Well, you should have worn sandals. Aren’t you the genius of the group? Dr. Spencer Reid? How come you didn’t think of that?” She questioned as she yanked him onto the beach.
Spencer trailed behind her unwillingly. He could already feel the sand seeping into his shoes already. He would have been more upset but he was entering the beach for some reason Y/N hadn’t explained to him yet. Since she was on their side, there wasn’t a direct reason not to trust her.
“I wasn’t going to go onto the beach. My partner, Derek Morgan, is surveilling the beach,” he explained.
“The beach is the best part to surveil though. Seems to me you got the short end of the stick,” she said.
“It’s the stick I chose and I’m fine with it,” he said.
She giggled. “Tonto, tonto chico.”
“Uh, gracias?”
She led him over to an area where there was a blue beach towel set up with a cloth bag on it. She let his hand go and kneeled on the towel. He looked at her strangely as he watched her ruffling through her bag. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.
“Can you apply sunscreen to my back please?” She asked.
“I-I don’t know if-”
“Do you want to blend in or not, khaki pants?”
He looked down at his pants before looking back at her. She reached the bottle out to him and he didn’t feel as if he had a better option so he took it from her. She smiled as she scooted down to make some room for him to kneel behind her.
He went behind her and kneeled. He opened it up and squeezed a good amount on his hands. He rubbed his hands together before he started applying it to her lower back. He had to admit her skin was the softest thing he had ever touched.
“Crees que puedes seguirme si hablo español durante esta conversación?” She asked
“Intentaré,” he said.
“Excelente. Tengo un hueso personal que elegir con su sospechoso,” she said.
“Que hizo…Wait, what are you doing?” He asked.
Y/N reached one hand to the back of her bikini top and untied it. She held the front of it with her free hand so her breasts wouldn’t spill out, flustering Spencer anymore than he already was. She looked back at him with a smile as she saw him turn red again.
“You need to get the whole of my back,” she said.
“Uh…I guess?” He said.
“You sound unsure. Wait until you have to do the front,” she said.
“I what?” He choked.
“I’m kidding. We’ll save that possibility for another time,” she said with a wink before turning her head.
Spencer’s mouth was gaped open but he couldn’t find the words to say back to her. He honestly didn’t know what would be the appropriate way to respond to her. If Morgan was there he probably would have been even more disappointed by the way he was acting around Y/N.
“Your unsub, Eric Brown, almost killed my partner,” she said.
“I heard,” Spencer softly said.
“Ese hijo de puta nos sorprendió. Le disparó a mi compañero en el cuello y si no estuviera allí para evitar que se desangrara, habría estado muerto,” she said, gradually becoming louder in her tone.
“Lamento que tu y tu pareja hayan sido víctimas de él,” he said.
“¿Ser víctima de él? Si vuelvo a ver a ese hijo de puta voy a hacer que me caiga víctima,” she yelled.
He let her have her little moment because he knew how upsetting being in that type of situation could be. Even though he was upset for her, he couldn’t help think her yelling was tantalizing. It didn’t help he was enjoying rubbing her back with sunscreen and feeling her soft skin over and over again.
“Estamos aquí para ayudar en todo lo que podamos. Queremos hacer justicia a su pareja y a las otras víctimas de Brown,” Spencer said.
She turned around to look at him with a smile. He smiled back at her as he took his hands off of her. She looked down at the string that dangled at her side and then looked back at him. He didn’t need her to say anything and grabbed both strings on both sides of her to tie it around her back.
“Eres muy dulce, Spencer. Le devolveré el favor diciéndole esto: escuché de un informante hoy que Brown intentará esconderse en un carro de cargamento de drogas que se dirige a Cuba,” she said.
“Really?” He asked in shock.
“Sí. The shipment leaves in six hours, but the dock isn’t too far from here. If my hunch is right, he isn’t staying too far from the dock,” she said.
“Reid.”
They both looked up to see Morgan walking their way. Spencer immediately got up and dusted the sand off his pants. Y/N also got up and picked up all of her belongings off of the ground.
“Morgan, I-uh…I know what this might seem like but I was-um.”
“Hi, my name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m with the Policía Federal. I was informing agent Reid about Brown’s possible whereabouts,” she said.
“Yeah, apparently, he’s going to get on a drug shipment to Cuba in six hours,” Spencer whispered.
“He’s most likely hiding out somewhere north of Cancun,” she said.
“Great. Thanks for the information. Are your units scouting the area out?” Morgan asked.
She nodded. “Yes, but we’re not trying to penetrate the area directly. We have no idea what kind of people Brown has paired up with and he’s already attacked one of our own before, so we’re treading lightly.”
“Fair. I guess we’ll meet in six hours to catch him,” Morgan said as he reached out his hand.
Y/N grabbed it and shook it. “We definitely will, agent.”
As she let go of his hand, she looked over at Spencer. She smiled and reached out her hand. She noticed his hesitation to grab it, so she did him the favour and latched into his hand. She pulled him in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
“Gracias por aplicarme protector solar en la espalda. Tal vez después de atrapar a este hijo de puta, podamos ser más íntimos,” she said into his ear.
She pulled away from him and saw that confused yet intrigued look on his face again. She laughed before waving them both goodbye. They both watched as she walked off from their sight into the overcrowded beach.
Morgan flopped his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. Spencer looked at Morgan to see a grin spanning from ear to ear. He sighed as he already knew what Morgan was going to say.
“So you spent the time you were supposed to be surveilling rubbing on a hottie’s back?” Morgan asked
“How about we don’t talk about it?” Spencer said as he shrugged off Morgan’s arm and started to walk away.
“You can’t keep your secret move from me,” Morgan said as he walked behind him.
“What secret move?” Spencer asked.
“The “standing there out of place but yet attract all the ladies to me” move,” Morgan said.
Spencer smirked. “I would teach you if I knew why it happened.”
Morgan chuckled. “You know what, I think I’m more content with you finally not knowing an answer for something than I am with you getting a potential date.”
—–
MASTERLIST
Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @bluerose512​ @laneybobeczko-g​ @averyhotchner​ @littlewierdalien @cynbx @mggsprettygirl​ @jessalyn-jpeg​
500 notes · View notes
amesstm · 3 years
Text
Prom???
Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader
Word Count: 2K
Summary: After coming to Japan as a transfer student from America your senior year, you miss out on prom. The Nekoma volleyball team comes to cheer you up.
A/N: I come from America so this is based off of what I know about prom. I know that prom is usually an American and Canadian thing, but just imagine a big dance where people dress fancy but dance dirty on the floor lol 
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Prom was the crème de la crème of every American senior’s year. Unfortunately, being a transfer student in Japan meant that you had to travel to Japan in April to start the school year. Now, you were missing out on spending prom season with your friends.
A soft sigh unwillingly escaped your throat as you sat down on the bench in the gym. You pulled out your clipboard, ready to observe any improvements made from the boys today. Since you were spending a year in Japan, you decided that you could afford being a manager for Nekoma’s volleyball team. After some convincing from Kenma, your host family’s son, you agreed. Since you had some knowledge about volleyball from watching the Summer Olympics so much, it wasn’t too difficult fully understanding the tiny details of the game.
You were so engrossed in the multiple papers you had on each member that you didn’t realize that Kuroo, the captain, sat beside you.
“What’s wrong, Y/N-chan?” He asked, his minty breath wafting your face. You turned to look at him and was met with concerned eyes that dared you to lie to him. Kuroo always knew what was wrong. Not only was he good at reading the spikers’ movements, but he could also read you just as easily.  
“Let me show you,” you replied as you reached for your phone. You unlocked it and tapped on some photos your friends sent you. They had taken the time to send pictures of prom dresses they thought were cute. Your heart ached when you remembered that you wouldn’t receive a reply until they woke up.
“Ah, it’s... prom, right?” Kuroo said before turning it into a question. You couldn’t expect him to know when most Japanese schools don’t have formal dances.
You nodded with a small pout, “Yeah, prom is very huge in America. I didn’t always want to go but going with my friends seemed really fun.”
Kuroo hummed, probably not understanding the significance of a school dance. After all, the last time he went to one was probably a festival in middle school. But the way you were pouting tugged at Kuroo’s heart.
The captain promised himself he’d focus on getting into nationals and graduate. His dreams could afford no distractions – but why was he enjoying the feeling of being sidetracked? An idea lit itself in Kuroo’s head. He knew exactly what to do.
~
After returning to school on Monday, you witnessed Kuroo act even more weird than usual. You sat behind him in advanced English, waiting for class to start. Obviously, the class was really easy so you could afford not preparing for now.  
Then, you heard murmuring from Kuroo as he hovered over a piece of paper on his desk. Peering from the side, you grumbled that you couldn’t see what he was muttering. His broad shoulders were definitely useful on the court for blocking, but now they were blocking your view.
“Kuroo-san, what are you doing?”  
Your sudden voice must’ve surprised him, because he jumped in his desk and quickly hid the paper. The whites of his eyes were as clear as day and his mouth was still agape. Something clicked in your head.  
“Was that a...” You raised a finger and pulled out your phone to look up the right words. “Was that a dirty note?”
A rush of hyena laughter met your ears, causing everyone to look at you two. You looked up from your phone to see Kuroo hunched over from laughing so hard. You rolled your eyes as he forced himself to calm down, heaving all the while.
“Why? Are you curious, Y/N-chan?” He asked, with his eyebrows wiggling at you. He teased in a manner that could be interpreted in a manner that needed no translation. All you did was blink at him. He whined, “Don’t look at me like that. You look like Kenma when you do that.”
“Kenma taught me well,” you replied, sticking your tongue out. “So, what was that paper?”
“O-oh, I’m just preparing something,” Kuroo said, scratching the back of his neck. A soft pink tinged his cheeks and his eyes averted from yours.  
How suspicious, but cute.
You shrugged, he’d surely tell you what it was sooner or later. Besides, the arrival of the teacher meant you couldn’t pester Kuroo for an answer now.  
Soon, the school day ended with Kuroo still acting odd(er than usual). Kenma found you by your locker to begin your usual walk to the gym after school. Despite attending Nekoma for a month now, you still managed to lose yourself in the big halls. Hence, Kenma was your personal guide unless you two had different classes – aka you two never saw each other except for lunch.  
Once you were finished, Kenma and you walked towards the gym. “Are you excited for practice, Kenma?”
As usual, his short answer was: “No.”
You chuckled, “One day, there’ll be a reason you’re excited for volleyball.”
“Doubt it,” he murmured in return.
A comfortable silence settled between you two. Kenma tapped away on his game and you enjoyed the last bits of sakura season. Sure, the pollen gave you sinus headaches but the photo shoot you had when you first came here was worth it.  
A small trail of sakura flowers led to the entrance of the gym. You joked, “Someone must like sakura flowers.”
Kenma sneezed softly and muttered. “He’s lucky that I like him.”
You raised an eyebrow, about to ask what he meant, until Kenma opened the doors. Upon entering the gym, there was a center of sakura flowers accumulated in the middle. With a grin, Kuroo held up a sign that said: The only flower I want to take to prom is you. ♡
The bold, red letters in English were written with a shaky hand until touched up by someone more confident. Sakura flowers were carefully drawn and colored it, with patches of glitter thrown here and there.  
“Awh, is this for me, Kuroo?” You asked, a smile bursting onto your face. You raised your hands to your face, shielding yourself from the cameras that were pulled out to record.  
Kuroo nodded with a proud smile on his face. You approached him, unsure what to do. After all, this was the first time someone made such an effort into asking you out. “I don’t know if I did this right. I saw some videos of ‘promposals’ on YouTube, but I don’t-”
“This is perfect,” you said, quieting him by putting a finger to his lips. Then, the manager in you began to think logically about how this ‘prom’ would be pulled off. “W-wait, how are you going to do this dance?”
“Don’t worry, I got it covered,” Kuroo smiled confidently, raising a thumb at himself.
~
“Kenma, have you ever went shopping for anything but video games or food?” You asked, as you two drifted to a dress shop that Kenma’s mom had to recommend. Clearly, Kenma knew nothing about these types of shops until you asked him where they would be.  
“Only if Kuroo drags me along to get sports gear,” he said with a shrug. His eyes were glued to a game, but he was still able to reply to you as if he gave you his absolute attention. You could never understand how he has yet to walk into a pole, either.
You shrugged, “Makes sense.”
Upon entering the shop, you two were immediately met with rows on rows of dresses. Drawn by a magnetic pull, you flew towards a section containing your favorite color. Eyes glimmering with the giddiness of a kid in a candy shop, you placed your hand on the silky material.
The best part? It had pockets.
Grinning, you asked a worker if you could try it on. Kenma mindlessly followed you to wait outside the changing rooms. The straps were a bit difficult to sort through; otherwise, it fit like a glove. You stepped out of the fitting room, and called Kenma to attention.
After he paused his game, Kenma looked up. His usual cat eyes widened slightly. “You look pretty.”
You beamed, “Should I get it then?”
Kenma nodded rigorously. Underneath his breath, too low for you to hear, he murmured, “Kuroo will like it a lot.”
~
The volleyball team managed to secure the gym for the event and decorated it to the fullest. You don’t know how they did it in such little time. The lights were dimmed except for some lights that you recognized from Kenma’s set up in his room. Little things here and there were objects that you remember the boys talking about in previous conversations.  
Coach Nekomata smiled kindly as you entered. “You look beautiful, Y/N-san.”
“Thank you, coach,” you replied. “Thank you for doing this, too. I know it must’ve been a lot of work.”
“Oh, it wasn’t! Kuroo set it all up and I just watched,” the old man replied with a hearty laugh straight from his chest.  
You blushed. Kuroo kept his promise. He said he would make it happen and it did. Speaking of which, your date had come prepared from the coach’s room. A small box was in his hands.  
Unlike Kuroo’s usual, confident swagger, he seemed timid as he approached you. “I-I also saw that prom dates give this to each other.”
He opened the box, revealing a beautiful corsage that matched perfectly with your dress.  
“How did you know my dress would look like this? I wanted it to be a surprise.” You pouted.
Kuroo blinked, “Kenma sent me a photo.”
You also blinked. Then you looked to the traitor pudding-head beside the rooster. “KYANMA!”
Blood rushed to your cheeks and you hid behind your hands once more. You murmured, “Ah, I was in my natural state.”
“You’re breath-taking, don’t hide yourself from me,” Kuroo whispered into your ear, hints of a smile in his voice.
Now you were definitely red and about to burst. You laughed, “You’re just saying that.”
“I don’t give away compliments for no reason.” His genuine smile melted away the insecurities that bubbled to the surface. With your facial expression softening, he took the cue to lead you to the dance floor.  
The different colored lights cascaded to drape Kuroo in beautiful lighting. Red was truly his color, as his face was shaded with the hue. Something about the mood shifted as his hands made their way to your waist.  
Deciding to take the lead, Kuroo swung you two back and forth. The song was slow, so he adjusted as needed to match the beat. Should you have told them that American proms were basically fancy clubs with promiscuous music? Probably; although Coach Nekomata would definitely not approve.  
Oh well, I can grind on Kuroo later. Wait -  
“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Kuroo chuckled as he lifted your face to look up at him.
You pouted with a glare, “I-I wasn’t looking at you like that!”
“You wish you were,” Kuroo laughed as your eyes widened.
“Why are you like this?” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.  
“But you like me, don’t you?” He smirked as his eyes danced with mischief.  
Okay Sky-Daddy, please kill me. As if Kuroo read your face, he hastily said, “Don’t worry, I like you, too.”
Your breath hitched, “But I’ll have to go back to America, Kuroo.”
“I know. Trust me, I know,” Kuroo sighed. “But in the little time that I’ve known you, I’ve already started to like you. Heck, it feels dangerous.”
“I don’t want to start something that might end on other sides of the globe,” you admitted.  
Kuroo’s eyes drooped, “I know.”
“But I want to try,” you reassured. How could you possibly express yourself in a different language right now? Then, you remembered the phrase. It couldn’t be directly translated to English, but the feeling was universal. “It’s like ‘koi no yokan’.”  
Kuroo grinned with a soft laugh, “Exactly. So, we’ll try dating?”
“Yes, Kuroo,” you affirmed with a smile gracing your features.  
“Call me Tetsu.”
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yamithediaperdork · 3 years
Text
My little brothers revenge, Part 2
Alex woke up Sunday morning and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes and hearing the heavy snoring of his asshole big brother.
'Man, can't believe I conked out so bad!' He thought, now rubbing his arm across his chin and mouth to take care of any left over drool. 'I guess I must of been more tired then I thought..Ugh.. and Justin's been stinking up the room again in his sleep.'
Alex put his fingers to his nose, glaring over at his brother who was a well know toxic hazard in his sleep and as such normally got his own tent when the family went out camping.
Tossing his blanket back Alex froze as the smell not only got worse in the room, but it became clear WHAT the source of the stink was as he looked down and the shot swelled diaper around his waist.
'No way..no.freaking.way!' Alex thought as he blushed beet red.
he quickly glanced over at Justin who was thankfully still asleep and then slowly got up onto his hand sand knees and crawled backwards to get out of his bed, trying not to squish the mess around any worse and fighting back whimpers that might of woken Justin up.
There was NO way if Justin saw him in a shitty diaper that he'd ever let Alex live it down, and he could easily picture Justin 'accidentally' bringing it up around his friends or even at school.
getting his feet on the floor Alex found himself forced to do a cowboy walk of sorts from the bulk of his filled diaper and as quietly as he could he made his way to the door and out into the hall, praying to every deity he could think of that he was the first one awake since it was only 8:34 am and mom and dad liked to sleep in on Sundays.
Fate was not on his side however as he made his way towards the bathroom and saw that the door was closed. before he could even think of turning around and waddling back to his room the door opened and out stepped mom.
She appeared to of smelled Alex before spotting him from the way her nose wrinkled, then she looked eyes on him and her mouth twitched as if she was fighting the urge to smirk.
"Did somebody have a stinky accident?" She asked, sounding amused but coming over.
"I..I didn't mean to.." Alex whimpered and looked down, all sorts of shame flooding though his body and he was fighting back tears.
Instantly she went from amused to trying to comfort him, even if she winced as she knelt down in front of him and cupping his chin.
"Alex it's ok, accidents happen. this this goes to prove that you're not feeling so well. Maybe I'll let you stay home while I go and get you some more diapers later." She said in a soothing voice.
"I..Yeah Ok mommy." Alex said, feeling very much like a big baby as she then picked him up, hands under his armpits and carried him to the bathroom.
"I think maybe it's for the best you're gonna be in diapers all day today too. you wouldn't wanna have a poopie accident in your Captain America briefs right?" She asked.
This was NOT helping Alex feel better but he just nodded his head, kicking his legs a little.
"Uh..Uh..Mommy? I-I can clean myself up." he said as she carried him into the bathroom and stood him in the tub.
"I'm sure you could, but it'll go faster with my help and I don't think you want Justin seeing you like this." She said with a warm smile.
"I-I guess you got a point." Alex whimpered.
Oh yeah, he was gonna get revenge on his brother and prove who was the big baby in the house alright. right after his mom changed his dirty diaper.
'God, what have I done to piss you off so much?' he silently asked as his mom started to open his diaper.
One humiliating clean up and shower later and Alex was in a clean diaper and downstairs at the kitchen table, having some toast and tea. Normally Sunday's were a sausage and bacon filled feast if you waited long enough for Mom to get up but she had been wary about putting too much into Alex's system and asked him to go simple. Alex wasn't happy about it, but since Mom had put the plastic bag with his stinky diaper in the trunk of the car and promised to get rid of it away from the house he decided to humor her.
He was in just one of his Spider-man diapers and a loose Iron man t-shirt and kicking his legs softly at the table when Justin came down stair's with a grossed out look on his face, spotting Alex before he saw mom.
"Geez Alexandra, did you crap yourself or something? Our room friggen reeks!" He complained and then fully walked into the Kitchen and saw their mother standing there, NOT looking happy.
"Excuse me, but I thought your father and I talked about you calling Alex that name." She said in a less then amused tone.
"Er..well..See, Alex likes the nick name! Yeahhh, He said it just didn't feel right if I wasn't teasing him." Justin lied, Looking to Alex for back up.
"Alex is that true?" Mom asked.
"Yeah, Not at all. I've told him to quit it." Alex said smirking big time.
"i see. Justin, How would you like it if I called Justine or Jessica all day?" Mom asked, smirking now.
"..I wouldn't like it very much." Justin muttered and looked down at the floor now.
"Mmmhmm..So keep that in mind next time you get the urge to brat..I can always go and get you a adorable pretty princess lunch box and put Justine on the front of it and make you take it to school. Your father isn't the only one who can get creative with punishments."
Threat made Anne turned back to the kitchen counter and started on making Justin some breakfast.
"Y-You wouldn't!" Justin whined.
"Wanna try me? I'm already going to the store in a bit for more diapers for Alex." She said and smirked. "As is, I think you can have a nice toast and tea breakfast like your little brother. He's not feeling so good so you'll be watching him today."
"Ahhh moooom, I was gonna go hang out with Grizz and Rayne today!" Justin whined."I'm Sure Alex is a big enough boy he can look after himself! Or Dad can watch him!"
"Your father is going and helping Mr.Nilson build his deck today, But if you stay here I'll lift the TV ban so you two can play video games. Co-op only, I don't wanna come back to you both all mad at each other like what happens every single time you play a versus game."
Her point made the brothers both sulked as neither really wanted to be stuck with the others company.
Justin huffed his way though breakfast. between having to have buttered toast and tea instead of a meat explosion and being stuck with Alex all day he knew this was gonna suck all the balls, at least till he recalled his evil plan from last night and brightened up.
'Wait, no mom..no dad..and just me and the pamper butt. Oh yes yes yes yes yes! this is gonna work out great!' Justin thought and got a big silly grin on his face.
"Well, Somebody's cheered up after his tea." Mom teased.
"Oh yeah, I just had to wake up some more you know? I think I can have LOTS of fun with Alex today mom, so don't worry if you wanna take a bit." Justin said then added. "I know you like to drive around and it'll be nice for you not to have dad bugging you to hurry up or listening to me and Alex fighting."
"Well that's nice of you, though Alex is on his last two clean diapers so I really should hurry back." Mom said, giving Justin a half hug.
"oh nonsense! Alex is just gonna wear the diapers, It's not like he needs them mom, Right little bro?" Justin asked and smirked.
With Justin was being happy and helpful alarm bells were going off in Alex's head but there was nothing he could really say in argument of mom coming back sooner without tipping off he'd pooped himself earlier or making it sound like he needed his day time huggies. It was a catch 22 and Justin's look told Alex he knew it.
"yeah mom, I'll be ok..I'm sure me and Justin will have lots of fun." Alex said, trying to sound cheery.
Aside from not wanting to sound like he needed his diapers, he knew if he tried to whine to go with her or have her come back fast he'd also sound like a whinny little mama's boy.
"Well ok, If you boys are sure. I'll be heading out in a bit then, why don't you two leave the dishes for me and go and play some video games. And since you're both being good little guys for mommy." Anne smirked as both boys made a face at that. "You can both have 3 cans of soda each. Just try and spread them out."
the ugh faces turned into surprised smiles as mom was usually a stickler on the boys sticking to juice or water and she was always careful to keep a count on the can's of pop in the fridge.
Finishing up their light breakfast, the boys put their dishes in the sink and washed up a little then each one grabbed a can of cola out of the fridge and got a Blanket set out over the floor, well Alex got the blanket over the floor while Justin made sure the curtains were drawn shut.
Naturally normally Justin would of loved to of had the curtains wide open to show off his BABY brother but with mom still home he had to play nice.
Sides he wanted to try and draw Alex into a sense of relaxation before springing his super genius evil plan on him.
Alex wasn't falling for it for a second but went and fired up one of their rare co-op two player games (Since Justin wasn't a fan of retro games) and the boy's started to play, pausing only to wave bye to mom as she headed out, telling them that she'd be back in a hour or so, and to make sure dad woke up soon as he'd promised to be over helping with the deck bright and early.
They played in peace for about half a hour, with only cries of booya, eat it and the like coming out of their mouths and Justin giving Alex tips and for the most part they actually got along for a change.
That being said, all good things have to end and Justin never put his plan out of his mind, so when it was time to go and wake they're dad up he volunteered to do it while Alex took a much needed potty break.
Stopping by their room to grab Alex's phone Justin made a quick little call.
"Ngggh.. Yello?" came the groggy voice of Max.
"Heyyy max. how's it going?" Justin asked, keeping his voice down.
"Ngggh..Justin? what are you doing calling me?" the sleepy boy asked.
"Well Alex is kinda been missing you, and I was trying to set up a little surprise for him but getting you to come over and hang out with him." Justin said, grinning ear to ear.
"...OK who are you and what have you done with Justin?" Max asked, sounding suspicious.
"Hey, I can be a nice guy every now and then. but if you don't wanna come over finnnne." Justin huffed, mentally cursing just how well Max knew him.
"...Give me like 20 minutes or so to wake up and get some food in me." Max sighed on his end of the line.
"Ok the front door will be unlocked so just come in." Justin said and hung up.
with operation:show my brother baby butt off underway, Justin went off to go and wake up dad.
With dad being his normal cheery morning self (read: grumpy as fuck) Alex did his best to stay out of his way while he made himself a bacon and egg sandwich then grabbed his tool box and was out the door.
"I wonder he even offered to help if he was just gonna be this grumpy?" Alex asked Justin.
"Because there's free beer involved after the deck is built and you know mom won't let him bring any booze into the house." Justin said, oddly keeping a eye on the time.
"heh, you missing mom already or something?" Alex teased.
"Oh no, Just arranged a little surprise for you." Justin said and smirked.
As he smirked Alex felt a pang of fear go though him, the old Justin was back and he went to scramble up to his feet to get get away.
"ah ah ah, come here huggie butt." Justin taunted and grabbed onto Alex, tugging him down and into Justin's lap, pressing on his tummy.
Which had the effect of making Alex let out a massive fart.
"Dude! really? what are you, part skunk?" Justin asked, shoving Alex back out of his lap.
"M-Maybe!" Alex said, his tummy gurgling now and as he went to get up he ended up hunching over, anther fart coming out of him.
"Heh, Uh-oh, is widdle Alex gonna go poopie in his diapies?" Justin asked, smirking and getting up to block the path to the bathroom.
"J-Justin Nooo! I don't wanna poop my diapers again!" Alex whimper, hunched over and making his way over, yet anther fart coming out and that one was totally a wet one.
"Wait..ANTHER poopie diaper?" Justin asked, then it clicked. "Oh my god, you shit yourself in your sleep! Ahahaha! You really ARE a baby!"
"J-Justin Please! I'm begging you! Let me use the pot-" Alex started but then there was the sound of the front door opening and Alex was cut off by Max's voice.
"Allo allo! whats going..uh..on.." Max said, walking into view and looking at Alex in shock. "Uhhh.."
"M-Max!?! what are you doing here?!? I Uh..Oh god, Max don't loook!" Alex wailed.
Max was too shocked to look away though as Alex lost the battle with his bowels and the back of his diaper ballooned out as wave as wave of mush filled it, making the spider-man designs fade away and the formally white parts of the diaper go a ugly shade of brown.
With the back of the diaper being destroyed the front didn't get off easy either as Alex's bladder apparently didn't wanna be left out and he soaked the diaper even as he sank to his knees.
Balls up fists coming to his eyes and rubbing them as he started to bawl, Alex almost but not quite drowned out Max's million dollar question.
"Uhhh..what's going on here?"
The living room was filled with Alex's stink, but it was the smell of victory to Justin as he took in the scene with a sick joy. Alex was too busy bawling like the big baby he was to try and defend himself so Justin spoke up.
"Sorry about this Max, I tried to get baby Alex to cover up his diapers but he said he wanted you to see what a big baby he is an-" Justin started, but was cut off.
"Yeah, Bullshit. What's really going on here, Alex, did Justin make you wear a diaper?" Max asked, wincing as he moved over to comfort his friend.
'damn it! was hoping he'd fall for that. ah well, can't win'em all.' Justin thought.
Alex was still full on bawling though, and was just finishing up his dump and the diaper had amazingly held up.
"Alex..Alex buddy it's ok.. everyone has accidents." Max was saying and Justin rolled his eyes at that.
'just my luck, most boys his age would of started tormenting the fuck out of a pamper packer and I get the kind and understanding one.' Justin fumed.
"He's in all day diapers today because he went to sleep without putting one of his bed wetter pants on yesterday and wet the bed." Justin sighed. "And apparently if he's to believed he woke up stinky too."
"...Alex is this true?" Max asked.
Alex hiccuped and sniffled, calming down slightly now but he nodded.
"So..you knew his diapers were gonna be on display and invited me over..dude, your a asshole." Max said and glared at Justin.
"eh, Guilty as charged. but if you care soooo much about widdle Alex then you can get him cleaned up. Otherwise I'm gonna leave him to sit and stink." Justin said and shrugged, turning to leave.
"Sheesh.. brother of the year aren't you.. Where's his diapers?" Max asked helping Alex stand up and rubbing the poor guys back.
"In our room, I'll toss out what's left of them." Justin said then walked off leaving the stinky diaper boy and his little buddy to clean up.
For the second time this morning, Alex found himself doing a dirty diaper cowboy walk and heading for the bathroom, whimpering and saying sorry to Max over and over again.
"Hey, it's OK dude.. I should of known your brother was planning something when he invited me over. But Uh, I've known about your bed wetting for awhile." Max said, giving a sheepish grin.
"N-No you didn't, I'm super careful!" Alex whimpered.
they made it to the bathroom and Max had Alex stand with his legs spread and the trash bin in the bathroom under him as he undid the tapes and let the diaper plop down into the trashcan.
"yeahhh well about that.. you remember three weeks ago when we were playing Avengers in your room? you pack of Iron man diapers was sticking out from under your bed. When you weren't looking i pushed them back under with my foot." Max admitted, even as his face wrinkled in disgust.
"I..but..Noooo!" Alex whined babyishly.
Somehow this didn't change facts though.
"Look, we'll talk about it in a bit, you go and get in the shower, I'll go and get rid of the 'treasure'" Max said.
With no real choice in the matter, Alex nodded and made his way into the shower to go and get cleaned up.
'Pretty sad my best friend is more mature about this then my own brother..and Justin..your gonna pay!' Alex swore as he started the water.
After taking the plastic bag and putting it in the trash can outside, Max came back in and after opening some windows to air out the living room he made his way upstairs.Hearing the shower still running and found a pack of diaper with only two in it out front of the bathroom door.
the door to Justin and Alex's room was closed but since it didn't have a lock Max barged in anyways, finding Justin laying on his bed and reading a comic book.
"Can i help you?" Justin asked, a smirk on his face.
"That was a really shitty thing you just did to Alex, you know that right?" Max asked, hands on his hips.
"Cute choice of words there, and yeah, I'm a asshole and proud of it." Justin said.
"Yeah, well I'm gonna tell your parents what you did when they get back." Max shot back.
"Oh, cute idea. Let's tell them how Alex went and crapped his diapers when he has potty privileges and make it so he has to wear to school tomorrow. Of course I'll get grounded for inviting you over and showing off his diapers but who's really gonna come out on the short end of the deal here?" Justin asked.
Max blinked and tried to come up for a counter to that but just huffed and pouted.
"That's what I thought. If Mom asks when she gets back, Alex invited you over. I'll keep hush about the poopie diaper if you two little dweebs keep me out of trouble, deal?" Justin asked, going back to his comic book, clearly knowing he had the upper hand.
"..God your SUCH a asshole!" Max huffed and then stormed out.
Alex got out of the shower on his own and got himself diapered, then went and got a t-shirt (Hulk this time for the little avengers obsessed nerd) and a pair of black short's on over it before retreating down to the living room with Max, whining as Max told him about the deal Justin had offered.
"I don't know..he was suppose to shut up about the wet bed yesterday too and went back on it..and uh.. where did you put the..you know.." Alex asked huffing and squirming.
"Uh, out in the trash can on the side of the house. why?" Max asked.
"Because it's gonna be stinking up the block in no time and I'll get busted again for sure!" Alex whined.
"Well uh.. It's not like we can just go and ditch it in someone else's trash can you know." Max pointed out, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hmmm.." Alex said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully then snapped his fingers. "Hey! you know that old nature trail by here? the one that's hardly used anymore?"
"..Yesssss though I don't think I like where this is going." Max said.
"We'll take the stinky diaper and shovel out there, and bury it! by the time the trails popular again in the summer, no one will be able to smell it!" Alex said, beaming at his brilliant idea.
So excited with his 'brilliant plan' was he, that Alex actually started out of the room to head for the back yard to go and get the shovel.
"Alex, one second. You mighttttt wanna change into something baggier and with longer legs on it, those short's aren't really hiding your diaper butt." Max said with a small smirk.
Looking down and then looking at himself in a mirror Alex could see Max was right and gave a sheepish smile.
"Oh..yeah.. good call!" He said and then went to his dresser to find something a little more concealing.
Justin had of course by this time headed down stairs, not wanting to deal with Alex's 'toddler whining' ad he put it, and was playing a video game and drinking one of Alex's can's of soda since he had gone though his three.
Looking over as the pair went to go and get their shoes on he raised a eyebrow.
"And where are you two dweebs heading off too?" He asked then chuckled. "Awww, Is Max taking widdle Alex to da park ta pway?"
Alex growled but before he could speak up Max cut him off.
"Actually we're just gonna go and play on the old trail, go and dig some holes and the like. I figured that way if Alex has anther accident you won't have to smell it right away."
"Pffftt good thinking! did you pack a diaper bag for him then, hence the book bag?" Justin chuckled.
of course he couldn't of known that the pack pack was for holding the stinky diaper once they got it out of the trash, though he really didn't care anyways.
Alex meanwhile was blushing big time and huffing like a pouty toddler.
"Ayup, though hopefully it'll just be a wet diaper." Max said.
"pffft, ok. just be back soonish, Mom will wanna know where you are." Justin said and went back to his game.
Once they were outside Alex gave max a semi hard punch to the arm.
"what the heck was that all about! you sounded like you were on his side!" Alex huffed and glared.
"Uh, OW! and we didn't want him to know what we're really doing did we?" Max asked and then swatted Alex's padded backside, making a whumping sound.
"...You didn't have to be so believable." Alex huffed.
"oh I'm sorry, did you want him following us? knowing him he'd of tugged your pants off once you were on the trail and tossed them in a tree!" Max shot back.
the thought of being trapped in public with his diaper exposed made Alex blush and squirm, and let out a muffled fart of fear.
"Ah.. do you need, to go back inside and sit on the potty?" Max asked.
"NO!" Alex growled, then paused, and looked thoughtful and wiggled his butt a little, making Max have to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
"Yeah no, I'm good." Alex confirmed a few seconds later.
The adventure out to bury the treasure so to speak was uneventful, much as Alex had predicted the trail was dead this time of the year and the only hard part was digging into the semi solid earth, the shovel being almost too big for the either shorty to really use it so they had to take turns.
Coming back they were greeted in the driveway by Anne who was less then pleased to see Alex not only outside when she was still concerned he was sick, but that he was all dirty from playing in the dirt.
At least it worked out that she'd been home for about five minutes by that time so she'd already taken his new pack of diapers (Avengers print this time) to his room but still she gave Alex a mild scolding and sent Max home.
After that it was a day of just lazing around the house but Anne had also insisted on keeping a close eye on Alex so he hadn't been able to get enough alone time to e-mail Ben.
35 notes · View notes
custardcrazy · 3 years
Text
Newt Scamander x Reader: I’ll Be Seeing You (Part 1)
A/N:  i’ve been working on this lol and writing for newt makes me stupidly happy.. lol 
anyhow, here’s part 1 of this new series about our favorite magizoologist !!  
warnings: angst (next part will have fluff dw), parents fighting, bullying, a tad bit of abuse from the father. do not read this if any of that stuff triggers you.  
part 2
------ 
Poppy 
Since you were a child, you had possessed the ability to connect with plants on a near-spiritual level- and to heal them, as well. Even for a kid born into a magical family (you were a pureblood), this was unusual. 
It was an ability that was pretty much laughed at by anyone you told. 
"That's ridiculous! Stop lying!" said some. "That'll be useless in combat," sneered others. 
Your mother was very kind, but could do little to nothing to stop people from ridiculing the "plant-talking freak". All she really did was provide you with temporary comfort and a sense of safety from the outside world that was less than welcoming. Your father, close-minded as he was, didn't directly yell at you, but you could tell from his expressions that he was disappointed. 
When you were younger, you were very lonely. It was really stupid how people would distance themselves from you, thinking that they'd catch a disease or something if they got too close. And all of this manifested itself into you being maybe a bit too friendly for some people.. because all you wanted was a real friend.    
One warm summer day when you were about seven, you were playing in the local park. Your mother was sitting on a bench nearby, reading a book. Your father was busy at work, as usual.  
With a small sigh, you had gotten up from the patch of flowers you were in, and walked over to an area of trees to look around. 
Whenever there was natural life around you, you had discovered that it was present as a dull hum in your mind and ears. At first it had been annoying, but by now you had grown used to the feeling. Welcomed it, even. 
As you peeked around a tall oak, you caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar kid squatted over the ground. They seemed to be poking at some pink, mushroom-like things. 
You drew a bit closer, trying to get a better look at them. 
But as you took a step forward, you stepped on a stick, and it broke in half, causing the kid to jump and nearly fall over backwards. 
He (now you were sure it was a he) looked at you, with widened eyes. He looked absolutely petrified! 
"Oh- I'm so sorry for scaring you!" you said quickly, holding up your hands.  
"I-I-it's fine," the boy stuttered, turning around to face the mushroom things again with a slightly flushed face.  
You tilted your head to the side slightly. "Are you okay?"  
"Y-yes-" he answered, looking extremely reluctant to continue the conversation. But being the young child you were, you didn't recognize that at all. 
"I'm glad that somebody else my age is in the park!" you interrupted, a smile beginning to form on your face. "What's your name?"  
"Er.. Newton.. but y-you can call me Newt, I guess." Newt gave a short sideways glance to you as you crouched down next to him. 
"Oh, that's a nice name! I'm (Y/N)!" You stuck out a hand for him to shake.  
He merely looked at your hand, then returned his attention back to the pink fungi things. 
"I don't.. do.. handshakes."   
You shrugged, pulling back your hand. "Alright then."  
Pausing, you focused your attention hard on the pink things, wishing to communicate with them. But, strangely enough, you didn't sense anything from them- so even though they did look like plants, they weren't, you concluded. 
"What are those mushrooms called? They're not plants, are they?" you said, now curious to what these beings were. 
Newt looked a mix of surprised and impressed, turning his gaze fully at you. "H-how.. ho-how did you know that? It's nearly im-impossible to tell between-" 
With a slight hesitation, you just grinned. "I know a few things about plants, I suppose." 
-- 
Over the next year or so, you grew closer to your new friend bit by bit. You learned that he was interested in magical creatures. That he was studying the mushroom things- Horklumps, he said they were called- to learn how they worked. Apparently he had some back in his home!  
School did start up again eventually, but that didn't stop you from visiting the park nearly every day, looking forward to the afternoons spent with him playing around in the woods. Newt had become the closest and best friend that you'd ever had. 
You still weren't sure if he'd react kindly if you told him about your freakish powers, though.. and you didn't want to lose him. 
One evening, when you were flipping through one of your favorite books, you heard yelling from downstairs. 
Sneaking over to the stairs, you peeked into the living room, where your mother and father were having a heated argument. They hadn't been getting along well as of late, with your dad growing more and more irritated at work and coming home in a terrible mood all the time, having shouting matches with your increasingly quiet mum over trivial things. (He did most of the shouting.)  
...But it wasn't like they got along very well in the first place, anyway. 
"WELL I DON'T CARE! JUST CLEAN THE DAMN PLATES BY THE TIME THAT IT'S TIME FOR SUPPER!" roared your father, red-faced in his anger. 
Your mother looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Please, just be patient! It'll only take a minute-"   
"A minute!? Woman, GET ON WITH IT!"  
She shushed him. "Please, think of our child, you'll frighten-"    
"Our child? I never asked for that plant-whispering freak!"  
Tears began to blur your vision. 
But just before you ran upstairs, you saw your mom suddenly clench her first, hissing words at your father that you couldn't hear before pulling out her wand. 
Not wanting to watch any longer, you hurried upstairs, running into your room and slamming the door behind you. 
-- 
Turns out your parents split up shortly after that. 
The feeling was numbing, really. You didn't feel sad. You didn't feel angry. You didn't feel happy, either. 
And when you learned that you were going to move to America to live with your mother's sister, you just slowly nodded and packed up your things. 
The day before your departure from your home, you visited the park for possibly the last time. The last time you'd see your dearest and only friend. 
You found Newt easily, and he gave you a crooked grin. "Hello." 
"..Hey," you said, looking and sounding as hollow as you felt. 
He instantly looked concerned. "I-is anything the matter, (Y/N)?" 
"No- well, yes." Sniffling, you nodded. "I'm.. I'm moving. I'm moving, Newt." 
"Wait- moving to wh-where?" Standing up from the ground, Newt walked a bit closer. 
"To.. to.." 
You felt tears threatening to spill over your cheeks, and couldn't find the correct words to tell him that this was maybe the last time you'd see each other. 
"(Y/N), please, ju-just tell me. I-I'm- we're friends, right? You can trust me-"   
"LOOK, I'm moving to America- and I'm pretty sure I'm not coming back!" 
If this was a normal situation, you would've laughed at the expression of pure shock on Newt's face.  
But this time, you just wanted to cry and cry and cry.  
"Th-this.. th-this isn't a joke, r-right..?" His pitiful expression showed that he was wishing for this to not be true. That it was just a nightmare. And partly, it was a nightmare. 
"I-it.. it.. it really.. isn't." You sniffled again, trying and failing to wipe away your tears. "I.. I do-don't want to leave, but t-there's really no other choice..," 
"So.. I'll never see you.. again..?" 
You could tell that he was struggling not to cry. You could see the glimmering in his eyes. 
With a sob, you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight.  
He froze momentarily, but slowly hugged you back, tears slipping down his face. 
"(Y/N)!" 
You heard your mother's call in the distance, pulling back from Newt. 
"(Y/N), we need to get going!"  
"Look, I- I'll miss you," you said hurriedly, letting go of him and turning away. "Goodbye." 
Suddenly, a gentle hand grasped your wrist. 
You looked back, and found something being pressed into your hand. Quickly bringing it up to look at it, you found a smile making its way into your expression. 
It was a bit rough, but nonetheless charming. A little copper moon charm threaded onto a rope bracelet that was a bit big for your wrist. 
"..T-thank you," you said. 
"(Y/N), this is the last time I'm going to yell!"  
Newt smiled back at you. "Be careful. I'll miss you too." 
And you turned around for the last time, running off and not looking back.  
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arcturusreads · 3 years
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And I Don't Know Why This Hurts So Bad - Merhayes
TW: Mentions of Covid-19 and death
I had a prompt in my inbox to write a Cormac's view on when he found Meredith passed out in the parking lot and to make it fluffy but I don't think there's any fluff in this and it might have ended up a little more angsty. So, I'm sorry to that anon but here we go...
Cormac sighed as he finally left the hospital building. He hated to admit that there was a feeling of disappointment when Meredith hadn’t taken him up on the offer of a drink. She’d text back telling him that she was feeling exhausted, and he couldn’t blame her. She was in the thick of it all, working all hours on the Covid wards. The work was often unforgiving and took an emotional and physical toll. Cormac found himself cursing the virus for the twentieth time that day. It had cost him time with his sons and a trip back to Ireland. On top of all that, just when he thought that he might be ready to move forward after Abigail, the entire world went into lockdown. In the grand scheme of things, these were small issues. Nothing necessarily life-threatening but as his mother often reminded him, someone else’s problems don’t diminish your own.
As Cormac walked across the carpark, ready to head back to his hotel a figure on the floor caught his eye. It took a split second between him rushing over to registering exactly who it was on the floor. A tightness took over his chest as his fight or flight response began to kick in. No. Panicking over this, freezing, it wasn’t going to help her. That was what he needed to focus on. Helping her.
“Hang in there, Meredith, please.” He kept repeating the words under his breath as he waited for the gurney and O2. Her name almost felt foreign in his mouth, so used to only calling her by the name plastered across the hospital
What the hell was taking response so long? Did they not understand the urgency? Did they not realise who was lying on the floor right now? The tightness in his chest didn’t ebb away as he cradled Meredith’s head. Every time his eyes scanned over her face it just got worse.
Hearing the rattling on the gurney against the tarmac, Cormac pushed his feelings as far down as possible. It was an art that he’d mastered in the months after Abigail’s diagnosis. When their family had been bogged down with medical terms and statistics, he hadn’t had time to feel, he had to be there to explain, to try and ease worries the best that he could. It would drive Abigail crazy, she always told him that he switched into doctor mode. Cormac couldn’t help it though; it had been his coping mechanism. One that he hadn’t used in a long time. Definitely not since he had moved back to America with the boys. Well, that was up until now. But it was like riding a bike.
With the help of two nurses, Cormac gently placed Meredith onto the gurney with the oxygen mask placed other her mouth.
You aren’t doing this to me, Grey. Not after everything.
As they walked through the ER doors, Owen came rushing up to them. “Hayes, you know we’re not taking in any emergencies right now.”
“It’s Grey.” His voice was sharper than he had intended but they had no time to waste.
Finally looking down at the patient on the gurney, realisation dawned on Owen’s face and suddenly he flew into trauma mode. He barked orders swiftly, pushing Meredith into a private room to start tests. When Cormac went to enter the room, Owen stopped him in his tracks.
“I don’t think so, Hayes.”
“What? Hunt, look, I found her! I need to be in there with her!”
“And you can but you’re not in any PPE and the last thing we need is another doctor to go down. Go suit up and I’ll meet you in there.”
Cormac huffed out a breath before nodding and turning away. He’d never gotten into his PPE so quickly before and once he was done, he ran straight back to Meredith’s trauma room. Whilst the PCR test was going to take a few more hours to come through, Hunt and Hayes were pretty sure that Meredith had contracted Covid. She had been in and out of consciousness ever since they had set her up in the room. Every time she opened her eyes, she would complain about how exhausted she was, how achy her muscles had become and Cormac felt that familiar tightening of his chest every single time she spoke.
“We can’t move her up to the Covid ward until we have a confirmed diagnosis, so I think it’s best that we leave her in here for now.” Owen looked over Meredith’s chart before placing it on the side. “I’ll come and check in on her in a little while.”
“There’s no need.” The words came out of Cormac’s mouth before he had realised.
Owen gave him a questioning look before he clarified. “I just mean that I’ll stay in here and keep an eye on her.” Cormac couldn’t even think of leaving her alone in this room. What if Meredith woke up again? What if she needed something?
“Are you sure, Hayes? Weren’t you meant to finish a couple of hours ago?”
Glancing up at the clock, Cormac realised that it had been two hours since his shift had finished. “It’s not like I’d be heading back home anyway. Honestly, Hunt, I’ve got it covered her. Plus, it doesn’t feel right just leaving her in here, on her own.”
Owen gave him a small smile, nodding in understanding. He knew the effect that Meredith had on the people in her life. The minute that she drew you into her inner circle you knew that she was as much a part of your family as you were of hers.
“Alright, just look after yourself.” He quietly left the room, ready to face the battlefield of questions he was going to get from everyone about Meredith.
“What are you doing to me, Grey?” Cormac looked down at her face. In sleep she had some reprieve, her features no longer contorting from pain.
He gently smoothed back her hair, wishing that he didn’t have to wear gloves right now. That he could feel her silky strands under his touch. Wishing and praying that her test came back negative. That this was just exhaustion, and she would be fine. Cormac knew that he might be kidding himself because they had run all the other tests that they could, and they had come back negative. All that was left to do was wait to hear the inevitable.
Part of Cormac wanted to curse himself. After Abigail had passed away Cormac hadn’t wanted to be around people. He ran to Switzerland with the boys and set up their lives there. He hadn’t bothered trying to make friends with his colleagues, hadn’t bothered to try and forge relationships with anyone. It was the last thing he wanted. Cormac repeatedly told himself that his main focus had to be bringing up the boys, but something had broken inside him when Abi had passed. Something that would never fully heal, and Cormac had a fear that bringing people close would make the wound hurt even more.
Against his better judgement, Meredith Grey had wormed herself into his life. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. The moment he had met her, Cormac thought she was just going to be another know-it-all surgeon. An irritation that he would learn to deal with. Yet here he was, a year later and sat by her bedside whilst she was unconscious feeling that same pain in his chest that he thought he would never have to face again. And as much as Cormac wanted to yell at himself for getting into this situation for a second time, he couldn’t bring himself to regret meeting Meredith.
“You’ll be fine, Grey,” he murmured. “You have to be.”
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Imagine...finding out there’s fanfic written about you--and even Charlie ships you with Dean
CarryOnCap’s Masterlist
Warnings: Fluff? Crack? A dramatic fanfic within a fanfic that I got carried away with haha.
A/N: This is kind of ridiculous, but I had fun with it! Also, I’ve never actually seen GoT but it seemed like a reasonable reference from what I’ve heard about it.
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“Hey, look who I found!” Sam’s voice echoed through the War Room.
Dean glanced at you from across the table in the library, sharing your surprised expression as you both pushed your chairs away and stood. 
“‘Sup, bitches?” Charlie grinned, making her way up the steps toward you.
“Hey! We were expecting you guys to come in through the main door. We’ve been keeping an ear out.”
Charlie stepped into your outstretched arms and pulled you into a tight hug. “It was a spur of the moment decision, but I decided to stick around a day or two longer than planned! Sam said I could go ahead and park in the garage.”
She let go of you and turned to give Dean a hug too. He smiled softly with a look that was uniquely reserved for her, cradling the back of her head while she pressed her cheek against his.
“Good to see you, Charlie. You know you’re always welcome to stay as long as you want.”
An involuntary smile crept onto your face as you watched them. You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at the low rumble in his voice when he said her name. There was an undeniable protectiveness in his tone when he spoke to her--the sister he’d never wanted, as he affectionately called her.
When you shifted your attention to her, you noticed she was watching you. Before you could decipher the knowing glint in her eye, she suddenly twisted out of his arms and glanced back and forth between you and Dean. She began swinging her arms awkwardly before opting to cross them over her chest.
“You okay?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.
“Yeah! Of course...Totes chill...cooler than a pack of peppermints.” She bobbed her head and flashed a nervous smile, twisting her hair around her finger as she struggled to act nonchalant. “It’s just that I remembered something. A story I read a while back--completely random. Totally unrelated to anything--I mean, now I’m starting to ramble. Hah! So how’ve you guys been? Still saving the world from evil sons-of-bitches?” 
“Uh, yeah…” Sam answered, scrunching his eyebrows together. “We stay busy.”
“So what’s on the agenda tonight?” you piped up, changing the subject.
You were hoping to avoid swapping monster stories for a night. Charlie typically assumed the role of introducing you to popular and noteworthy fandoms during her visits to the bunker and, even if the boys weren’t as vocal, the three of you appreciated her knowledge of all things geeky and nerdy. 
“I was thinking Marvel. Y/N, you’re obviously well-versed in the MCU because of your obsession with Steve Rogers--and, you know, clearly you’ve got a thing for the strong, righteous, self-sacrificing hero type. Dean, you could stand to branch out from the Batman references and, Sam, you’ve got this whole Thor kind of vibe going on.”
While Sam and Dean began teasing each other and arguing over “Batman versus Thor,” you gaped at Charlie, wondering what she’d meant by her remark about you having a “type.” You couldn’t help feeling like she was trying to insinuate something, but you shrugged it off and decided maybe it was all in your head.
***
After getting Charlie settled into one of the extra bedrooms, the four of you settled into the Dean Cave and agreed to start with the first Captain America movie. 
Last Christmas, you and Sam had teamed up to surprise Dean with a couch for the Dean Cave. He had originally only had two La-Z-boy recliners and you’d found him fast asleep in the stiff old chairs on more than one occasion. Dean had been over the moon about the extra seating and the three of you had rearranged the furniture so the recliners were angled toward the tv on either side of the couch.
“Dibs on this side of the couch!” Charlie said, diving toward the furthest end from the door.
Although it was subtle, you knew there was still something off about the way Charlie studied all of you. There was definitely something on her mind she was trying to keep hidden from all of you.
“You know, we should probably have some snacks,” you said slowly. “Charlie, you want to come help me grab some stuff from the kitchen?”
“But I’m already comfy in my spot.” She frowned, wiggling her hips to make a point of sinking deeper into the spot she’d claimed on the couch. “Why don’t you have Dean help you?”
When you narrowed your eyes suspiciously, Sam cleared his throat. “Dean, why don’t I help you grab some snacks while Y/N and Charlie...catch up, er, whatever…”
You heard the boys leave the room and waited until their footsteps faded down the hall before you started interrogating her.
“Alright, Charlie--what the hell is going on with you?”
“I don’t know what you're talking about,” she muttered, scrolling through her phone.
“Bull. We lie for a living and I know there’s something you’re not telling us. So spill.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Okay, so remember the Supernatural books by Carver Edlund?”
“Yeah…”
“The series obviously kind of had a cult following when it was in print, right? Well ever since the unpublished works got uploaded, the following has really taken off. Every once in a while a new one still pops up and the fans love them. And you’re in them now too!”
“I’m...what?”
“I mean it’s just insane and totally got sucked into it too. It’s brought on this whole new wave of fanfiction--”
“What’s fanfiction?” you cut in, struggling to keep up.
“It’s fiction made by the fans about the series. Sometimes they put themselves in the stories and write about working cases and fighting monsters with you guys--”
“Why would anyone want to pretend to do this crap with their lives?”
She stared at you for a moment and frowned. “Because you guys are heroes. I mean, yeah, there’s the whole depressing side of monsters and death and trauma and world-ending apocalypses--but you guys save people. You go on these exciting adventures of good versus evil and a lot of times you win. You save people. The fans really look up to all of you.”
Your gaze fell to the floor as you let her words sink in, but she didn’t give you long before she was rambling again.
“But that’s not even the best part! Everyone ships different OTPs--” she paused, noticing your puzzled expression “--uh, one true pairing… So everyone has a favorite couple they think are soulmates and belong together. There’s stories about Sam with Eileen or Jess, Dean with different people--you get the gist. Sometimes they even make up characters or do these ‘reader inserts’ and imagine themselves with the boys or you but, hands down, everyone’s favorite couple they want to end up together is you and Dean.”
“...what?” 
Your eyes grew wide. It was hard enough to wrap your mind around the fact that strangers who didn’t know you were a real person were reading about your life, but learning they imagined you in different relationships? You’d never admit it out loud, but had it bad for Dean. And hearing you weren’t the only one that wanted the two of you together...
“I’ve gone deep into the fic and I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner!” Charlie shook you from your thoughts. “You and Dean are perfect for each other. For serious. I usually stick to the fluffy stuff because, you know, your entire life is kind of angsty and I don’t like to read about you guys being in pain or, like, dying...again. Although I definitely have to admit I kind of stumbled into some of the smutty stuff and, wow, that was something else.”
You opened your mouth to ask more questions, but she kept rolling.
“Right, you probably don’t know what that means either. Fluff is the cute stuff that gives us all feels, angst is kind of just what it sounds like, and smut is, well...the sexy stuff.”
“You mean people out there in the world write about me and Dean…”
“Going at it like an episode of Game of Thrones? Oh yeah,” she responded, unlocking her phone. “Here. Here’s an example.”
Swallowing audibly, you took a seat next to her on the couch as she extended her phone toward you. Gnawing your bottom lip, you began reading the words on the screen:
Y/N took a deep breath, holding it in briefly before she exhaled and began walking toward Dean’s room. Ever since they returned from the hunt, Dean had hidden himself away in his room--no doubt blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong.
When she arrived at his door, she raised her hand to knock. She hesitated, almost retreating at the thought of him turning her away, but she had to try. She had to get through to him somehow.
She rapped her knuckles on the raw umber barrier and opened the door of Room 11 before he could tell her to go away. 
She spotted him leaning over the sink, staring at his reflection in the medicine cabinet on the wall. His jade eyes flickered to where she stood in the doorway, their reflection somewhat distorted by cracks that spiderwebbed from where he had struck the mirror.
Her heart seemed to drop into her stomach as she imagined him lashing out, knowing he punched the mirror because he hated the reflection staring back at him. Knowing he always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders when he didn’t need to.
Y/N carefully shut the door and locked it behind her--the click of the deadbolt deafening in the silence. Her eyes never left Dean, who refused to turn and face her. She inched toward him, closing the distance until she could reach out and touch him. Gently placing her hand on his shoulder, she guided him to turn away from the mirror. Still, he refused to meet her eyes.
“Dean…” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper as she cupped his face in her hands. “It’s not your fault.”
He squeezed his eyes closed, face contorting with grief and guilt. The ghosts of his past refused to let him go, but she was determined to make him believe that he was worthy, no matter the cost.
Curling a finger beneath his chin, she tilted his head up, waiting patiently for him to meet her gaze. When his dark green orbs finally met hers, she was surprised to see that they were full of longing and desire. They flickered to her lips, making her breath tremble under the intensity of his gaze. Time seemed to slow until it froze altogether.
Anticipation hung heavy in the air as they both struggled against their desire to maintain the friendship they’d always had and the desperate need to finally cross that line. To succumb to the magnetic pull that had always been evident between the two of them.
Dean swallowed thickly before suddenly rushing forward, crashing his lips to Y/N’s as he pulled her into a searing kiss. He wrapped his strong arms around her, trapping her to his chest, afraid it was all a dream and she would soon disappear. But she gladly melted into his embrace, feeling like she was finally returning home, to a place she’d spent her life searching for.
A moan slipped past her lips as he walked her backward, pressing her up against the wall. She gasped, feeling his--
“The snacks have arrived!”
You jumped in surprise, a small gasp of surprise escaping as the boys appeared with armloads of snacks. Confusion and worry painted Dean’s face as he surveyed your flustered expression. Between his scrutinizing gaze and the content you’d practically been caught reading, your cheeks grew warm. 
“Did I miss something?” Dean asked.
“Nope,” you responded much too quickly.
Charlie’s phone had fallen into your lap and, when she began cackling, you whipped your head in her direction and flung the phone at her thigh. You grimaced and the two of you had your own silent conversation as the boys spread the food across the bar Dean had built on the far wall.
“I was just telling Y/N how pumped I am about seeing my favorite OTP tonight,” she giggled.
“Your...what?”
Dean’s arm brushed yours as he plopped down on the other side of you. The accidental contact sent a wave of chills over your skin, making you shudder. You could feel his eyes on you again, but you refused to look at him.
“Oh, I’m so going down with this ship,” Charlie whispered under her breath before continuing in a louder voice. “Nothing--nevermind! Don’t mind me, just thinking out loud...”
“It says here an OTP means...one true pairing?” Your eyes grew wide as you looked to where Sam was reading his phone from where he sat in one of the recliners. “So, uh, ‘in the fandom realm, OTP refers to the coupling of characters--usually from the sci-fi or fantasy genres--by fans who think they make a great romantic duo and envision their lives together and share their imaginings with other fans.’”*
Charlie doubled over, beside herself with laughter. With your lips pressed into a firm line, you glanced at the boys to gauge their reactions. You knew there was no way they could possibly know what you and Charlie had been talking about, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about what Dean might think if he ever found out about the feelings you harbored for him. 
“So...you’re looking forward to Cap and his girl in the movie? I’m so freaking confused,” Dean grumbled.
“Yeah…” Sam agreed, making his way to the tv. “I’m just, uh...I’m gonna start the movie now.” 
“Good idea.” Charlie peered at you out of the corner of her eye. “Plenty of time to read and talk about all those ships later.”
Although you glared at her, trying to hide your amusement, nothing could deter the smug smile etched upon her face. As Sam turned the lights off and you settled in for another relaxing night with your favorite people, one thing was certain:
You were definitely going to have to take another look at that fanfiction.
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21. Redemption
The Ink Demon cannot redeem himself in his apostate prophet’s eyes, but luckily for him, Allison does a good job keeping it from killing him. (Set in FIFE, immediately after the Sin prompt.)
The Ink Demon, making what had to be one of the stupidest decisions ever, popped out of his Inkwell and stood to his full height, which while it was tall compared to human beings, the Ink Demon was rather short compared to the towering behemoth Sammy had become.
“Sammy, listen, I know I should’ve told you this way, WAY earlier but.. I’m Sorry.” The horrifying creature wrapped its body up in its largest pair of wings, steadying itself on a single arm as Inky tried to read the creature’s body language for either signs of approval or disapproval. Not knowing if he was getting through to it or not, he continued. “I know I really, really, really %#@!ed up with everything I did to you, I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness at all...  Maybe if I was a better person back then, I would’ve earned the praise you’ve heaped on me, but instead… *sigh* I’m sorry for how I treated you back then, I’m sorry that I pretty much… brainwashed you into worshiping me and then threw you to the side once I had what I wanted. I’m sorry that I hurt you and your loved ones for fun, And I’m sorry that I made you feel like you were nothing… I should’ve known better than to do any of that $#*!, Joey put me through similar stuff and I knew that it was &%#@ing awful when I was going through it, but I was too much of a Jack@$$ to-”
“Shhhh…” The otherworldly musician put a shushing finger over the Ink Demon’s lips which he retracted back into his wings. “It’s alright, little one. All is forgiven. No sin you have committed has been an infinite one, thus, you shall not receive infinite punishment.”
“Y-you really forgive me?! This soon?! H-how?! I hurt you the most out of everybody I’ve wronged, people who I’ve done a lot less to still avoid me because they still haven’t forgiven me… ...Does this mean you’re coming back home?”
Instead of answering him, a deformed arm shot out of Sammy’s form and straight through the Ink Demon’s chest, tearing out his heart in one fell swoop. The mouths on its arm already began chewing away at it like ravenous piranhas.
“Your sins are forgiven… but not forgotten…”
The Ink Demon ducked back into his inkwell to prevent further damage from happening to him, Allison gripped onto the inkwell tightly and ran like hell out of the ritual room. Partly to help protect the Ink Demon from the eldritch musician’s wrath, partly because she feared the beast, and mostly because the blessed bleach on the floor would eat her alive if she stayed in there any longer.
The being sped after her, moving its many distorted arms like the legs of a spider as Allison narrowly ducked and dodged incoming strikes from it, preferring to evade the eldritch monster as opposed to attacking it as like the Ink Demon, it could not be harmed by normal weapons, but unlike the ink demon, every time she cut off a hand, the stump grew and branched off to give it two more hands.
“D-don’t you think… *Cough* *Hack...* that we should try to reason with him?”
“Maybe we should,” she offered as she felt like it was too dangerous to argue with Inky during this. “But not while he’s trying to kill us in a maze filled with holy bleach!”
“Don’t flatter yourself, false angel...” The pursuing entity sounded like it was rolling its limitless eyes. “You may serve the divine, but you are not among their ranks... You will be spared, even if you believe you do not deserve it.”
“Gee, thanks Sammy...” She muttered under her breath while also rolling her eyes. “I totally believe you.”
Shortly after another close call with one the hands narrowly catching the inkwell, Allison grabbed her rope with the intent to tie the Inkwell to herself but then got a better idea.
“Inky, hold onto my waist as tightly as you can!”
She took a sharp turn, tied a lasso out of the rope, and swung it around to get momentum. Once she felt she had enough of it and sensed the upcoming pursuer, she turned and threw it behind her at the eldritch horror, almost stunned with shock and pride as she saw the rope perfectly hit Sammy’s muzzle. But luckily for her, adrenaline overcame shock and she ran between the entity’s arms and yanked the rope as hard as she possibly could.
As half-planned, the action slammed the beast to the ground. While it was still dazed by the action, The brave angel tied more of the rope around the horror’s muzzle, and jumped on its back as if she was riding a horse- -err a sheep, the creature was closer to a sheep than a horse. She jumped on its back as if she was riding a sheep made out of nightmares.
“HOLY *HACCK!* *WHEEZE!* $#*! ALLISON! WHERE THE %#^& DID THAT COME FROM?!”
“I panicked, and well…” She gestured at the rope and the beast. “When I trusted my gut, this happened.”
The beast shook the dizziness out of its head and rose on many unsteady limbs that swayed and staggered as it stood back up, almost as if the body remembered that it was supposed to be human, or at least humanoid, not whatever it was now.
One of the arms felt around its back for the Angel, and she drew her blade and put it against the musician’s throat while grabbing tightly to his left horn.
“You’ve won the battle, but the war is over. C’mon, Sam, we’re going home.”
She felt a heavy sigh come out from the beast, specifically, out of the tied up muzzle.
“Do you truly trust him? After all you have seen him do? After all he’s put everyone through?”
“We’ve all hurt people back there, all of us.” She lowered her blade off Sammy’s neck. “We’ve all done one terrible thing or another and tried to justify it to ourselves, and all of us regret them… I Don’t fully trust the Ink Demon, not yet… But I do trust that he regrets what he’s done too, and that he wants to change for the better as much as everyone else does, as much as you do.”
“I had no intent for changing for the better, I had valued the deaths of the false gods more than my own life. I expected to have my soul destroyed by the ritual, and yet, almost annoyingly, I still persist.”
“Because you believed that by destroying them, you’d set your flock free! You’re still here, because you know that you have people who want you back, people who love you and miss you, people who you inspired by your own redemption among them to change themselves for the better.”
“Including me!”
“...Including him.”
“...”
“So, would you like to see them again and go back home?”
“No. America never was and never will be my home, not even then, and especially not now.”
The angel and demon deflated partly.
“But… I’m sure I will make some visits here and there, everybody knows how to call me when they want.”
“Say Sammy… *HACKK!* About you wanting me to *COUGH* free you from an ‘Inky dark abyss you call a body’... Would… would you like me to try that, or do you have a sweet deal going on with the whole nightmare-abomination-god-thing?”
“...Well…”
-----
Weeks later...
“How’s progress going so far?”
“Uuuurrrrgghhh...!”
The Ink Demon pinched the nonexistent bridge of his nonexistent nose in frustration as his patient/canvas gave a so-so gesture.
“It’s terrible! Just terrible! I’ve managed to carve it back down to LOOKING human (most of the time), but every time I turn my back on this mother^@!&er, its got something ELSE going on, and the second I fix it, it’s got a new problem: First it was that its pectorals were replaced with a giant mouth filled with fangs that belonged to a sea monster, THEN there was the wasp problem, and THEN eyes are popping all over it like chicken pox spots, and THEN...”
“I have accepted that Eldritch demigodhood may be a chronic condition that I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life. At least most of my humanity is restored... and this condition is one that has its perks from time to time...”
“Well, according to the tests, you’re a human being, so at least you two on the right path.”
“Yeah… Still frustrating as &$@! Though. What makes it worse is that COULD’VE done better if I did this sooner! I could’ve saved it back at the studio but Nooo, I had to wait until AFTER getting freed from that place before getting a redemption arc. #%#@ing son of a...”
“While it’s not the most... Ideal, but it’s a lot better than it’s ever been before. Thank you for your assistance.”
“No, thank you for giving me another chance.”
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sparkkeyper · 3 years
Text
And They Flew Anyway
Summary: It’s 1969 and Crowley and Aziraphale sit in a pub watching humans make their own history.
---------------------------
It was a raucous night in the London pub.
Indeed, Aziraphale had chosen this one specifically because of the excitement pouring out of it. He didn't have a television in his bookshop and if he was going to experience what was certainly a significant moment in Earth's history, he wanted some suitably celebratory surroundings. His search for the prefect venue (which consisted chiefly of picking a district of bars and restaurants and walking the streets with all his senses extended until he'd found the happiest, liveliest pub with a TV set) had resulted in a pub that would have been rather spacious if it wasn't packed to the brim with Sunday night patrons. A football match had apparently concluded not long before, and a sizable group of young people in the corner were drunk and rowdy in celebration of whatever team had won.
Football notwithstanding, there was a swarm of people crowding up towards the bar where the television was located. Aziraphale's eyes landed on the back of one head in particular, the haircut not so different from when he had last seen it in a Bentley in Soho two years prior. "Crowley, is that you?"
The demon turned, face spilt in an enormous smile. "ANGELLLL!" he crowed loud enough to be heard on the street outside, and Aziraphale winced, as though that in itself was enough to summon Gabriel. But Crowley was already bounding towards him, stumbling gracelessly around the people in his way and beaming like a bonfire. "Fancy runnin'in'ina you 'ere! Wonderful, marv'lous, just in time!"
Aziraphale couldn't help but smile back at the enthusiasm as Crowley clapped him excitedly on the shoulder. "And just how drunk are you, exactly?"
"Oh, unbelievably drunk," Crowley confirmed gleefully. "Hideously drunk. Only way to be, night like tonight! Least until the main event. Got your work cut out for you if you wanna catch me up. C'mon! C'mon, got good seats, right by the telly!" He flung an arm around the angel's shoulders and Aziraphale let himself be dragged over to the bar, not the least bit put out by this unexpected company.
The counter was packed full of people, but two barstools and a few cubic feet of space seemed to grow out of nowhere for them to sit comfortably. "Oi, Rico!" Crowley called over to the bartender. "One for my mate, same as me! Put it on mine!"
"Oh! Well thank you. What are you drinking?"
"I have *no* idea." The demon knocked back another mouthful of whatever was in his glass.
Aziraphale accepted the drink - some pinkish cocktail - from the bartender graciously and bit back a protest against 'my mate', figuring Crowley was drunk to the point that admonishment wouldn't stick. "So. Red letter day for downstairs?"
Crowley pulled a face and waved the notion off, swaying unsteadily on the stool. "Nahhhh. Nothin' t'do with it. Red letter day for...monkeys! Humans! Mad li'l tail-less monkeys, they are." He gestured at the television set where a pair of news anchors were discussing details. "They're tras'iting...tra'smit...they're sending the broadcast all the way from America. Got Cronkite and everything."
That was indeed true, Aziraphale saw. The conversation in the pub hadn't decreased a bit in volume, but he could tell that it was shifting more and more away from football and towards the news programme.
"Angel, d'you know how long I've been waiting for this? Six centuries. No wait..." The demon paused to count on his fingers. "- ty. Sixty centuries. Ever since Adam looked up at th' night sky and went 'wha's tha' thing, then?' I've been waiting for th' humans to get to see it up close." He raised his arms to encompass the ceiling, sloshing half his drink from the glass and nearly smacking the man next to him in the face. "She put all that beautiful, magnificent stuff waaaay up 'n the sky, way up where they could never touch, and stuck 'em down on th' ground. Gave 'em feet 'n legs 'n stuck 'em down in the mud and said 'here, you can look at it I guess but tha's it'. And humans, they looked up at the stars and said 'that's bollocks, d'You know how bollocks that is?' and got to work mapping th' sky 'n figuring out rotations and then! And then!" He grabbed the angel's shoulder hard enough to bruise. "They built a set of wings out of a metal capsule and a bunch of maths and wires and they called it Eagle! I mean, mostly I think it's the Americans being ostentatious but come on! Eagle! And they said 'nuts to Your limitations' and they went and flew anyway!"
His eyes were shining, and Aziraphale thought he had never seen Crowley so proud. "They do have incredible ingenuity."
"Blessed right, they do! W'as the time?"
"Nearly eight, I think."
"Blimey, it's soon. Hang on, I wanna 'ppreciate this." The demon ducked his head, hands gripping the counter. He let out a pained grunt and an obscenely undignified belch as he forced the alcohol from his system, and Aziraphale rolled his eyes just a little. Crowley scrunched up his face in disgust and washed down the taste of suddenly-not-drunk with another sip of the cocktail.
"They made this leap so quickly," Aziraphale observed as the anchormen began to look more flustered. "It's only been, what 70 years or so since they started toying with motorised flight?"
"Tenacious, this lot." Crowley side-eyed him. "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"
"No," Aziraphale answered truthfully. "In fact I was specifically told to leave the research alone."
"Same."
The whole pub was focusing on the television now as radio broadcasts came in. Radio signals from space - Aziraphale could hardly believe it. If someone had told him a hundred years ago that humans would get to this point so quickly he'd have laughed in their face.
"I was at the launch, you know." Quiet awe coloured Crowley's voice as he watched the screen. "Hopped a flight to Cape Kennedy earlier this week. Oh, it was brilliant, angel; you should've seen it."
The broadcast switched away from the anchors to an indoor studio somewhere. A model lander was being lowered slowly, awkwardly onto a model set, with the caption "CBS News Simulation" beneath it. But with the accompanying radio transmissions, it didn't take too much human imagination to make the visuals match the audio.
The murmuring of the patrons around them died slowly with each minute that passed until the entire room was silent, watching the screen. Even the drunkest of the football fans recognized the weight of what was happening.
"Four forward," crackled the radio signal. "Four forward, drifting to the right a little. Okay, down a half."
Aziraphale risked a glance beside him. Crowley was wholly focused on the television set, stock still and not breathing. In fact, the angel would have bet money that he hadn't remembered to breathe in several minutes. His glasses had slipped a bit down his nose so he could see the broadcast unhindered, and his yellow eyes were wide, waiting, desperate: hope and joy and fear raging behind them in a maelstrom.
"Contact light. Okay, engine stop. ACA out of detent. Mode control, both auto. Descent engine command override off. Engine arm off. 413 is in."
"Man on the moon," one of the news anchors breathed, but the pub held its collective breath. It had to be official. If anything went wrong at the last second...
There was were a few moments of radio static.
"We copy you down, Eagle."
"Houston... Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."
"Roger, Tranquility. We copy you on the ground-"
The pub exploded, drowning out the rest of the broadcast. Crowley was on his feet, whooping and hollering with the loudest of them. Aziraphale applauded enthusiastically and clacked his glass against the beer of the gentleman beside him. "Well done, humanity! Well done indeed!"
Crowley was jumping up and down and screaming himself hoarse, hugging whatever stranger happened to get close to him and being hugged by other random strangers in return. One of the drunker football girls kissed him full on the mouth and he didn't seem to care in the least, going right back to his screaming as she moved on to kiss the bloke beside him.
Aziraphale couldn't help but bask for a moment in the happiness radiating from the humans around him. It wasn't hard to find excited people if you knew where to look, but it was rare that one found so many people all deliriously excited about the same thing. He could feel a sizable portion of Europe celebrating tonight.
Crowley grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him enthusiastically, breaking him out of his reverie. Aziraphale thought he glimpsed tears glinting from the corners of the sunglasses. "They did it! Angel, they did it!"
"I can see that! It's very hard to miss."
"Sixty centuries and they made it! Take that, You great cosmic killjoy!" This last was hollered at the ceiling but Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to be cross about it, not with so much happiness humming through the air. "Rico! New round for me and him! Ah Heaven, round for the bar!"
"You're cut off, mate!" the bartender yelled back. But a snap wiped his expression clean as that particular thought was miracled out of his head.
"I," Crowley asserted, downing the rest of his cocktail, "am fresh and ready to go. This party's just getting started. Gonna join me, angel? Betcha the news coverage'll go on for ages."
Aziraphale took the offered refill, already tipsy off the joy coming from both the humans and Crowley. "Oh, why not?"
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grimessbitch · 3 years
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Can you do a Daryl Dixon x Hispanic reader where she doesn’t know much English and daryl learns the best he can and helps and they slowly fall for eachother
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I’ve literally been so excited to do this one! Although if I get any translations wrong please forgive me, I’m using what I’ve learned in my Spanish class and what Google tells me. Again my Spanish isn’t that great because I’m still only in Spanish 1 but I tried my best and I really really hope you like it.
Warnings: language, soft! Daryl, Merle being a racist dickhead
Word count: 1.6k
“Daryl, te juro que eres el hombre más estúpido que he conocido, y he conocido a Merle“ You snapped as you watched the man who was in your group crawl through the window of the store, it was giant and of course the idiot just had to break the biggest window the loudest way possible. “I dunno what you’re saying” he grumbled watching Merle walk in front of him. You were forced to team up with Shane Walsh’s group after you had managed to make it back into America from your abuela’s house, you were originally paired up with a few others from your town but once you got to Atlanta your group was attacked by another group of survivors leaving only you and your little cousin to find Shane’s camp. You yanked Daryl’s vest meeting his glare with yours “you. dumbass” You snapped walking ahead of him starting to pull the blankets and other camping supplies down and shoved them into your bag. “Swear shoulda just left the bitch to die. they’re only good for kinky sex” You heard Merle grunt under his breath, you couldn’t understand most of what he was saying, only understanding ‘good for sex, and bitch die’ You marched over punching the older Dixon watching blood pour out of his nose “Crazy fucking bitch!” He yelled in pain pulling his arm back ready to hit you back but Daryl’s hand wrapping around his wrist stopped him “Don’t fuckin try it, she’s a woman you ass” He growled before shoving you both forward towards the food section where you’d scavenge that for the next two hours.
-
The next run you would have with Daryl wouldn’t be for the next few years, he had told Rick and Shane that you made the runs harder because he couldn’t understand you, you would’ve just thought that Daryl hated you if it weren’t for Rick translating the best he could, you were grateful for Rick, Carl and now Michonne, who recently joined the group, you were also grateful that Merle had disappeared, he hated your guts and you hated his, not to mention after Merle left Daryl changed for the better. 
Whenever you finished the run you sat against the prison walls looking at Daryl “Hola... usted hizo un buen trabajo” He mumbled a little confused trying his best, you giggled at his attempt to speak Spanish although secretly your heart swelled “tú-..You..too?” You said smiling at him, and you could practically see his face light up in pure joy whenever he realized you could understand what he was saying and that you replied in the best english you could. You smiled back at him standing up glancing at your left hand that was now wrapped in a bandage “You okay?” He asked raising his eyebrows nodding towards your hand “estoy bien” You said nodding making an okay symbol with your good hand before walking inside, Daryl walking over to Rick probably to talk about what you two found. You stopped in front of Daryl’s little hut type room, you knew you’d be in deep shit if you got caught snooping but you were curious. Slowly peeking inside of the box smiling brightly whenever you saw a small book you’d pick up at a gift shop ‘Spanish to English translator’ So Daryl really was trying to learn. Hearing heavy footsteps and Rick and Daryl’s voices you darted out and to your own cell sitting on the bed smiling. 
-
It had been months after you found Daryl’s book, You laid on your bed staring at the empty top bunk that had no mattress, Your body felt weak and you were so tired, staying outside all day trying to clear the horde of zombies that broke through the gate, and boy did you know Daryl was pissed off that you managed to speed past him to help Rick and Carl. Speaking of who Daryl stood in your doorway with his arms crossed glaring at you “usted podría haber muerto, y/n” He grunted, you wanted to be angry at him for treating you like a baby but everytime Daryl talked to you in Spanish it made your heart swell and you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up. “ Pero no lo hice, y debes entenderlo. No tengo cinco años, no necesitas cuidarme todo el tiempo de mierda, soy un adulto, gracias Daryl por querer protegerme, pero no lo necesito. Puedo manejar por mi cuenta” you explained sitting up as you groaned looking at him. 
“por favor, Y/n, solo escúchame por una vez” He grumbled, his spanish wasn’t great but you could actually understand him pretty well “I was fine” You snapped sitting down straight against the wall glaring at the opposite wall, You felt the bed dip as Daryl laid down on the bed next to you “I know you were..but I couldn’t live with myself if something bad happened to you..’ He said looking at you sadly “I’d estar bien“ You said not remembering the english words Rick and Michonne taught you for ‘be okay’ “not the point” He grunted looking at you “I care bou’ ya..so..stop doin stupid shit” He said joking a bit so you knew he wasn’t actually angry at you. Now it was time, to put what Rick taught you to the test, your mother always told you to wait until you find the perfect guy, who gave you the time of day and gave you anything you pleased, and well, Daryl did what he could, especially during the apocalypse. “Daryl..-” Fuck! what the fuck were the words? goddamnit, being in the moment and being afraid of Daryl rejecting you made you brain into putty, fuck it, you’ll say whenever you remember. “I understand” You said looking at him, your face heating up whenever he gave you a gentle hug. Daryl and you sat in the room for what felt like forever that night talking about what your lives were like before the whole walker thing happened, he held you while you cried talking about how much you missed your family and you held him whenever he opened up about his past with his brother and father. 
You walked outside smiling at Daryl, he was covered in sweat in oil while he worked on his bike, you thought it was hot, the way he only wore his vest in the hot weather, the way his arms and biceps moved whenever he’d tighten or loosen something on the bike. You nervously walked up smiling at him stopping whenever you saw Carol walk up to him and start talking, whatever she was saying made not only her but also him laugh and smile, and almost like that all of your confidence faded away almost as quick as it came. You didn’t have anything against Carol considering she was the sweetest woman you ever met but it kinda felt like you two were jealous of each other, both competing for Daryl’s love and attention. Walking back into the prison you slumped next to Beth, someone you had grown close to over the years. “¿Qué dijo él?” She asked smiling excited to hear about what Daryl said “Carol La Puta diosa llegó a él primero“ You grunted hearing Daryl and Carol walk into the prison talking and chuckling “I’m lo siento mucho“ Beth whispered, and oh boy you shouldn’t of been so cocky about Daryl and Carol not understanding you “Simplemente duele, ya sabes, porque lo sigo y soy básicamente su perra y, sin embargo, cada llamada de Carol, él está allí y yo estoy en el polvo y duele porque creo que realmente me gusta Daryl ... Me encanta eso Cabrón, Beth.” You ranted not looking whenever Daryl looked at you closely, you also didn’t realize Daryl’s shitty excuse to go to his room alone. You sat and talked with Beth for another hour before pulling on your coat grabbing your gun and both of your knives, you walked to the gate nodding at the two people on guard, Rick and Glenn. As the gates opened and you trudged out into the woods you heard hurried footsteps chasing after you, turning quickly you aimed your gun firing it into whoever was chasing you, you cringed whenever you heard the bullet hit metal “Shot my crossbow, woman” Daryl grunted while you rolled your eyes “What’re you doin out here?” He asked jogging up walking next to you. “Necesitaba aire fresco ... ¿por qué me seguiste? podrías haberte matado” You grumbled glaring at him as you walked. “I heard you say my name in the hall..along with a few other things about Carol” He said, your breath hitched and you felt your face heat up so much you almost started to sweat. “¿De acuerdo? ¿Qué quieres que haga? Te amo, está bien. I fucking love you y tu cabeza está demasiado lejos en el culo de Carol para notarlo, pero sabes lo que no voy a enojarme porque no soy un adolescente enfermo de amor que va a perra y llorar porque Daryl Dixon no tiene sentimientos por mí, me voy a poner mis pantalones de niña grande y lidiar con eso. Me quedaré y ayudaré a Rick y a mi grupo porque no arriesgaré mi vida y dejaré a mi familia solo porque quieres estar con otra persona, así que no arrastres esto a Daryl y solo dime la verdad, porque he terminado de mentir y de puntillas alrededor del tema. Así que si quieres estar con Carol, por favor sé mi invitado porque solo quiero verte feliz y si esa felicidad no está conmigo, que así sea.” You snapped shoving him back, but he just stayed in the same place staring at you processing what you said, you huffed loudly about to walk off before Daryl grabbed the back of your neck turning you around before pulling your body closer kissing you softly “Te amo, pendejo” He whispered, once he left you pull away you hugged him tightly trying to catch your breath. 
-
Translations-
Daryl, te juro que eres el hombre más estúpido que he conocido, y he conocido a Merle: Daryl, I swear you're the stupidest man I've ever met, and I've met Merle.
Hola... usted hizo un buen trabajo: Hey... you did a good job
estoy bien: I am okay
usted podría haber muerto: you could have died
Pero no lo hice, y debes entenderlo. No tengo cinco años, no necesitas cuidarme todo el tiempo de mierda, soy un adulto, gracias Daryl por querer protegerme, pero no lo necesito. Puedo manejar por mi cuenta: But I didn't, and you must understand. I'm not five, you don't need to take care of me all the fucking time, I'm an adult, thanks Daryl for wanting to protect me, but I don't need it. I can handle on my own
por favor, Y/n, solo escúchame por una vez: Please Y/n just listen to me for once
estar bien: be fine
¿Qué dijo él?: what did he say?
Carol La Puta diosa llegó a él primero: Carol the fucking goddess got to him first
I’m lo siento mucho: I’m so sorry
Simplemente duele, ya sabes, porque lo sigo y soy básicamente su perra y, sin embargo, cada llamada de Carol, él está allí y yo estoy en el polvo y duele porque creo que realmente me gusta Daryl ... Me encanta eso Cabrón, Beth.: It just hurts, you know, because I follow him and I'm basically his bitch and yet every call from Carol, he's there and I'm in the dust and it hurts because I think I really like Daryl ... I love that motherfucker, Beth.
Necesitaba aire fresco ... ¿por qué me seguiste? podrías haberte matado: I needed fresh air ... why did you follow me? you could have killed yourself
¿De acuerdo? ¿Qué quieres que haga? Te amo, está bien. I fucking love you y tu cabeza está demasiado lejos en el culo de Carol para notarlo, pero sabes lo que no voy a enojarme porque no soy un adolescente enfermo de amor que va a perra y llorar porque Daryl Dixon no tiene sentimientos por mí, me voy a poner mis pantalones de niña grande y lidiar con eso. Me quedaré y ayudaré a Rick y a mi grupo porque no arriesgaré mi vida y dejaré a mi familia solo porque quieres estar con otra persona, así que no arrastres esto a Daryl y solo dime la verdad, porque he terminado de mentir y de puntillas alrededor del tema. Así que si quieres estar con Carol, por favor sé mi invitado porque solo quiero verte feliz y si esa felicidad no está conmigo, que así sea.: Okay? What do you want me to do? I love you, okay. I fucking love you and your head is too far in Carol's ass to notice it, but you know what I'm not gonna get mad because I'm not a love sick teen who's gonna bitch and cry because Daryl Dixon has no feelings for me, I'm gonna put on my big girl pants and deal with it. I'll stay and help Rick and my group because I won't risk my life and leave my family just because you want to be with someone else, so don't drag this out, Daryl and just tell me the truth, because I'm done lying and tiptoeing around the issue. So if you want to be with Carol, please be my guest because I just want to see you happy and if that happiness isn't with me, so be it.
Te amo, pendejo: I love you, asshole
-
Taglist:
@steverogerslut
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