#but they wouldn't like to keep their equipments and stuff so far away from them

[grumpyeagleandfriends]

À Terre II | Poe Dameron x OC/Reader

A/N: Reader is a Resistance pilot that was captured during a solo reconnaissance mission. They escape by hijacking a ship. Gravely injured and hanging by a thread, they rejoin the Resistance by crash landing just outside of the base on D'Qar. A certain distraught squadron leader runs out to help. 

Hurt/Comfort. Gratuitous, self-serving one shot TWO PART story. I have rewritten the first chapter in addition to adding on a second installment. This time it's in Poe's POV. I don’t like using “y/n” so I give the reader a generic, 1 syllable Star Wars name in the middle of this bad boy.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve been daydreaming about this for months years, so I finally decided to write it all out.  There’s a little bit of a long set up, but I’m not sorry about it.

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions blood and torture. Shellshock/PTSD vibes. Cursing. Tons of graphic medical stuff. Injections (so needles).

Word count: 5,439

Masterlist

Blood was everywhere when he finally made it inside the cockpit...

Even after he got her free from the safety harness, when all he could do was keep her calm and alert until the med techs arrived, he noticed the way she looked at him, the way she pulled it together to focus every time she nearly fell asleep. Hol hadn’t been able to properly talk, but with every command he gave her, she nodded and tried her best to comply. 

The metallic iron smell of it nearly knocked him back when he opened the canopy. It covered everything. Her shaking hands, her hair, her flight suit, he even found it coating the inside of her mouth after he coaxed her to let him take away the life support mask. 

He desperately wanted to give her water to see if she could drink, but there wasn’t any to be found in the cockpit. He wanted to put her in one of his jackets to help stop her from shaking, but the patch of trees she crashed landed into was too far from his quarters on base. He wanted to scream at her for being so goddamn stubborn, but he couldn’t shake the way she desperately clutched onto his hand. 

They hadn't been careful enough when extracting her. There wasn't enough time to wait for proper immobilization equipment to be brought out to the crash site. Between Hol's blood loss and the ship leaking dangerous fluids into the forest, they made the difficult call to just move. 

Seeing that utmost trust in her eyes, alongside the fear and the pain, was what really scared him the most. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let her die there, not after she clawed her way back to them.

He had no way of knowing at that moment, but the jostling when they lifted her out caused a broken rib to puncture one of her lungs. Poe couldn’t keep from blaming himself for his own role in that.

The second they placed her onto the hover gurney, her condition began to rapidly deteriorate. One of the med techs caught sight of her blue fingertips and immediately diagnosed a collapsed lung. Poe only just managed to clamber out of the cockpit to see it all. He stood frozen on the wing of the ship while he watched them cut open her flight suit to reveal her bloated chest. The bright glow of a laser scalpel quickly appeared and they made an emergency incision between her ribs to let the trapped air escape.

Once they got her breathing again, she was loaded onto the back of the waiting med truck and they took off. Poe was left to follow behind on the back of a ship technician's speeder bike.

--------------------------------------

He sprinted into the medbay only a few moments after Hol was rushed in on the hover gurney. Bypassing the waiting area and going directly through the sliding double doors was unusually easy. In hindsight it should have struck him as odd that no one stopped him, but the overstretched med staff meant that no one paid him any mind when he planted himself against the back wall in triage.

As promised, Kalonia’s team was already primed and waiting to receive her. Poe had to crane his neck to be able to see, but he counted at least seven different med techs helping transfer her over to the exam bed.

They began working like a well calibrated machine, her dirty flight suit was sliced open and quickly stripped away. As soon as they were connected, the more sophisticated diagnostic scanners lit up and began  displaying the worst of her injuries. Images of her chest cavity were produced on a monitor near the end of the exam bed, along with her vitals.

From where he stood, Poe was able to catch Hol’s foot beginning to subtly twitch. He wondered initially if he had just imagined the movement, but the surrounding med staff began to take notice as well.

“Eyes are beginning to flutter, she might be starting to come around.”  

Dr. Kalonia took a step back as her staff continued their work. She pulled aside the young medic who had been down in the cockpit with Poe. He began rattling off the details of Hol’s condition when found and how exactly she was transported. After a couple of minutes he began gesturing over his shoulder in Poe’s direction, causing Kalonia to promptly look up. Her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of him standing back by the door. 

Shit…

His back stiffened in preparation for an argument that never came.

“Dameron, get over here!”

She issued the instruction like an admiral as she pointed him over to the top of the exam bed.

He didn't think, he just immediately crossed over. The moment he was within reach, she grabbed hold of his arm and brought him to stand where she was.

“Do exactly what you did down at the crash site, alright? Talk to your pilot. Keep her calm.”

Hol’s head gently lolled to the side on the padded exam table, her face slack and eyes half-lidded. She went still once more just as he took his place. He cupped her face in his hands, noting how cool and clammy her skin felt against his palms.

Kalonia stood to his right, a penlight ready in her hand to test the reaction of her patient’s pupils.

“C’mon, Tarmin…” She called while carefully tugging open Hol’s eyelid.

Immediately, there was a weak moan, greatly muffled by the respirator mask. Hol tried to roll away from the touch, but Poe’s hands braced either side of her head.

“Hey, hey- it's okay. Easy, kid, easy.” He whispered, holding her in place just long enough for Kalonia to work.

“Settle down, Lieutenant.” The doctor spoke as she pulled away. “You crash landed on D’Qar. You’re in medical.”

Poe didn't let go once she finished. He continued cradling Hol's head, his short nails scratching at her scalp in some attempt at providing comfort.

Her body was fully exposed under the surgical lights, revealing the extent of the damage that he wasn't able to see back in the cockpit. The bruising along her abdomen and rib cage was mostly black, as if there were large ink blots staining her skin. There were blaster grazes on her right side, localized swelling where her right forearm was clearly fractured, wounds in her lower abdomen...

So much of it jumped out at once, he found it hard to focus on any one injury long enough. He began to wonder just what sort of state she was in before the crash.

Hol emitted another faint groan, one where he could distinctly hear a wheezing sound that came from deep in her chest. Her body jerked from the force of a cough. Red flecks of blood appeared inside the clear respirator mask.

Slowly, she began to blink against the lights. A worry line formed in the center of her forehead.

"No...n-no… "

It was hoarse and strained, but everyone standing around caught the audible plea. Hol's good hand suddenly lifted in an attempt to bat away those touching her.

Dr. Kalonia cursed.

"Restrain her! I'm trying to insert a chest catheter here!”

Padded white cuffs were produced and promptly attached around each of her limbs, securing her to the exam bed.

"Hol, look at me." Poe commanded. He cupped her jaw as he leaned directly over her, giving her no choice but to comply. He made himself the only thing she had to look at. His shadow worked to shield her eyes from the glaring overhead lights while also blocking her view of the med staff.

Her gaze was glassy and unfocused, but she was thankfully looking at him.

"You've got to relax." He urged, his hand smoothing her tangled hair back off her face as he spoke. "We’re trying to patch you up, alright? Let us help."

She blinked at the sound of his voice, and though the distress on her face didn't fade, she went still on the exam bed. Her eyes remained set in his direction.

"There you go, sunshine..." Poe quietly praised, using once again the affectionate name he knew she absolutely hated. "Keep those eyes on me, don't worry about anything else."

His attention never left her, but he was aware that Kalonia and another med tech were beginning to work at prepping the incision site to insert the chest tube. He wasn't convinced that Hol recognized who he was or even that she was somewhere safe, but he couldn't risk her getting freaked out by the procedure being performed on her chest.

There was still visible fear in her eyes, but she never looked away from him. Her struggling thankfully ceased as she began to lean into one of his palms bracing the side of her face.

"You're safe, you know that?" He found himself reminding her. The pads of his thumbs traced over the outer shells of her ears, trying again to ease the visible discomfort he saw etched in her face. "Promise you, babe. You're good, we've got you."

Hol winced before swallowing. His brow furrowed as he watched her lips suddenly part.

“Poe…"

Her voice was painfully raw, and normally the sound of her saying his name would have been reason for relief, but he only worried that she was wasting her energy trying to talk.

“Yeah, hey, Hol.” He greeted in a whisper, dipping just enough to brush his lips to her hairline. "It's me. I'm right here."

He frowned when she tried to say something more, something longer and impossible to parse.

"Shh-hey, no, that's enough. Don't want you to talk anymore." He gently scolded. "We’re going to do like before, okay? You relax while I run my mouth.”

Poe doubted she remembered their conversation down in the cockpit, but she thankfully fell silent. Her eyes remained on him as he kept quietly talking to her, blabbering on about how lucky she was to get out of briefings and inventory duty for the next few weeks, about how she was going to sit back on the medbay's best painkillers and watch the trashiest holovids he could find.

He knew deep down that she probably wasn't following him entirely, but he was trying to reassure himself at this point more than her. He was keenly aware that none of what he was saying was guaranteed, but he had to give himself something to hold on to, because imagining anything else simply was not an option for him. 

She had to pull through this.

She had to be fine.

Minutes passed like that, Hol's unfocused gaze trained on Poe's face as he worked at keeping her distracted. Kalonia was able to successfully insert the temporary catheter into Hol's chest, which would assure the function of her uninjured lung until they could patch up the other.

Poe listened closely as a medtech outlined all of the crucial information, providing him with the rough plan of how her treatment would proceed. Once they finished stabilizing her most grave injuries, she would be taken back for surgery. There would be some additional testing after, which would take a couple of hours...

The explanation suddenly stopped short when an alarm began to sound from one of the machines. The level of the urgency in the room immediately started to bubble over.

"Heart rate is increasing!" Someone announced.

Poe visibly paled as he watched Hol's eyes roll backward. His hands still bracing her head, he desperately looked up at the med staff, searching for some kind of instruction.

"Dameron, out!"

Kalonia swooped in and firmly shouldered him out of the way.

Before he could object, a med droid approached and began to usher him towards the door.

"Doc, what's going on?" He demanded, sidestepping the mechanical arms reaching for his shirt. "What's wrong?"

His question went ignored. Hold was entirely obscured from his view. There were too many people now surrounding the exam bed.

"She's seizing! Start anticonvulsants and prepare for a transfusion!"

"Master Dameron, the team needs to prepare the patient for surgery. You must leave."

The med droid's pincers whirred as it closed in on Poe.

"Don't tell me what I have to do!" He snapped, the outline of his jaw more pronounced as he spoke through clenched teeth.

In a moment of sheer stupidity, he pushed back hard against the unforgivingly solid metal chest. He clearly forgot that these droids were built to easily lift the deadweight of critically ill patients of any species.

The mechanical arms tightly wrapped around him, securing his own arms to his sides. They closed, crushing him flush against the droid's metal body. The gesture was completed so quickly that he could feel the air being forced out of his own chest.

Poe feebly kicked, but it was useless. The droid easily hauled him back out through the double doors and towards the waiting area.

________________________

The word about who crash-landed into the trees traveled like wildfire across base. All of black squadron, Finn, BB-8, several of the x-wing techs and pilots from various outfits formed a large group just outside of the medbay. Each of them had duties elsewhere that they were purposefully ignoring, choosing out of loyalty to be present while one of their own hung in some grave state between life and death. They were the ones who threw back countless drinks in the mess hall together, who organized a massive fantasy Gravball league that nearly sent the entire Resistance into chaos, and who pooled their commissary credits to throw each other birthday parties.

They were all present to witness the painful moment Poe was forcibly escorted out of the sliding double doors leading to triage.

"Shit!-alright, alright! Let go!" His shouts ricocheted down the hallway as he finally managed to yank himself free. The force of the motion caused him to promptly fall to the floor.

The others watched as he quickly scrambled up from the ground, stumbling and hurrying to kick at the back of the retreating med droid.

He missed, which only served to enrage him further. The doors promptly closed behind the droid and Poe spun around— his mouth set in a tight line while he began to inexplicably search his surroundings. His chest rose and fell for several beats. His face twisted into a sneer before he abruptly lashed out at the nearest object, sending a trashcan flying with his boot. The steel barrel was thankfully empty, but the sharp clang sent a shockwave across the medbay.

The few people waiting in the sitting area immediately stood up to vacate the space.

Finn was the first to take a step forward to intervene, but he was halted by a large hand on his arm. He turned his head to see Snap, skin still humid as if he came straight from the refresher.

"Best to stand back and let it pass." The pilot urged with a sad shake of his head. "His scenes are never pretty."

Finn didn't want to agree, but as he stood and watched the scene unfolding before them he couldn't find any reason to argue. Snap and the others would know better. They did know. 

Poe’s hands were pressed to the back of his head, his fingers laced together as he glared at the closed doors. He could have easily pushed his way back through, but he inexplicably remained where he stood. His eyes shot a deadly amount of spite toward whatever was happening on the other side of those doors— information that, for the time being, only he knew. 

His arms fell heavily to his sides. Ignoring the uneasy looks following him, he turned and traipsed over to the first row of waiting chairs, silently throwing himself down onto one of the seats.His legs stretched out while he leaned back, his arms folded over his chest.

He continued to stare at the doors, a hard glint in his eyes for the faceless goliath wrecking untold damage on the other side.

The others slowly filtered over to join him in the waiting area. A supportive hand would occasionally grip his shoulder or linger on his knee, but no one said anything. Those unvoiced questions sat heavy above their heads.

BB-8 remained near Poe’s feet, unusually still and silent.

Hours grudgingly crawled by. The light outside faded away and began to just barely creep back over the horizon when someone finally came out to speak to them.

Poe was the only one to be escorted back behind the double doors. Dr. Kalonia stood there waiting for him, still dressed in some of her surgical garb. Thankfully, her mask was off, because her facial expression alone was able to answer his most crucial question.

She was alive.

Kalonia began to turn before she motioned for him to come along.

"Follow me, Dameron..."

________________________

They walked together down the main hallway of the medical wing, back to where Poe knew the overnight patient beds were located. He remained silent as Kalonia gave the run through of everything— what exactly happened when he was forced out of triage and what they were able to correct during surgery. Internal bleeding was what caused Hol to begin seizing. They performed a blood transfusion that stabilized her enough to undergo surgery, but they hadn’t been confident that she would make it through. The surgery itself took hours, but they were successfully able to localize and stop the bleeding in her abdomen and patch up her punctured lung. They installed a more substantial drainage tube in her chest to allow excess air and fluids to escape so her lung could continue to heal.

She would need to be kept asleep so her body could focus on repairing itself, but Kalonia was going to let Poe see her while they performed some additional tests.

They came to a stop just before the smallest room along the hallway. Due to space constraints on base, most of the rooms along this corridor housed multiple beds. This room was only for patients in a bad enough state to justify being kept isolated from others.

Kalonia stood aside to let him enter first.

They had Hol lying half-covered on an exam bed, her chest was mostly obscured by bandages. The first thing he noticed was that she was clean now, so much so that it made his head spin. 

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, because of course they were going to scrub away the blood and grime before putting her on fresh bedding. But still, the contrast from when he found her sitting strapped in that downed ship was startling.

Several machines were attached to her body. She was hooked up to a respirator and receiving fluids intravenously, but Poe also caught sight of the aforementioned drainage tube extending from a patch of bandages in her side. It ran all the way over the edge of the bed into a receptacle on the floor. Her injured arm was wrapped in bacta strips and immobilized with a splint.

He remained a few feet away from her bed, a distance that he decided would be safe, because it felt too dangerous to touch her. His eyes slowly took in every piece of equipment being used to keep her stable, at first he began to count but stopped himself when he reached double digits.

His brow furrowed the moment he noticed the padded white cuffs still attaching Hol's wrists to the bed frame.

"Why is she still strapped down?" He demanded, his voice oddly distorted from hours of not speaking.

"It’s just a precaution for now.” Kalonia began to explain, seeming to choose her words cautiously. “She’s still on anticonvulsants to help reduce the likelihood of further seizures, but even while sedated there are still some tremors. With the location of the drainage tube we can’t risk her moving too violently or ripping it out when she wakes.” 

Poe blinked, taking a moment to process the information. 

"How long does she have to keep the tube?”

“No more than 2 to 3 days.” 

He nodded while he chewed on his lower lip, his eyes still trained on Hol. 

“Look, Dameron…” 

She interrupted his thoughts in a gentle tone that was meant to be comforting, but it only made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. Dr. Kalonia was known for ruthlessly running the medbay like a battleship. They went back far too long, he knew to brace for the worst whenever she started to go soft.

Poe turned to face her, the pit of dread he felt low in his stomach was only growing. He would have given anything in that moment for them to fall into their traditional roles, for him to be the one injured and for her to be yelling at him. - Dammit, Dameron! Either make yourself useful or get the hell out of my medbay!

But she only continued to speak in that horribly gentle tone.

“As Tarmin’s commanding officer, there is something else that you should know.”

She walked him around to the opposite side of the bed, where there was noticeably less tubing.

“During the examination before her surgery, I noticed some smaller injuries that made me order full lab work.”

He watched as she lifted the bit of blanket covering Hol’s legs. 

“I found infected injection sites on the insides of her arms and thighs, then these small circular burns on her ankles.”

Immediately Poe began to understand the rationale behind her delicate words.

He'd seen those marks on more than a few Resistance members who managed to escape capture. He sported similar ones himself after being captured on Jakku...after the Finalizer.

“We found traces of antipsychotics, nerve agents, and truth serum in her system.” Kalonia continued to explain. 

He bowed his head as he listened, the sour taste of bile was creeping up in the back of his mouth. He pinched the bridge of his nose while the facts began to register in his mind. His teeth clamped down on the inside of his cheek, he forced himself to slowly exhale.

"There are chafe marks on her body from restraints. The partial break to her humerus looks like it's from prolonged strain during intero—"

He couldn’t let her fully pronounce the word. 

"Alright!”

He didn't have it in him to yell anymore, but the tension in his voice filled the space like a streak of lightning.

To her credit, Kalonia never flinched at the sound. She stood patiently, unwavering, her face neutral as she watched him. An uneasy silence settled over the room.   

He took a shaky breath, being mindful to adjust his tone before continuing.

“It’s okay.” He spoke softly, voice trembling despite his efforts. “I-I got it, Doc.” 

He turned to face away as he desperately tried to calm the tightening in his throat. The corners of his eyes were sharply stinging. The best he could do to regain control was to continue biting down hard on the inside of his mouth, inhaling and exhaling through his nose.

After a couple of minutes he scrubbed both hands over his stubbled face. With the heels of his palms he rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars. Slowly, much too slowly for his liking, he was able to push his own agony down enough to recenter.

Poe turned to face Kalonia once more. He cleared his throat. 

“She's not going to be in too much pain when she wakes up?” He demanded. “You can keep her comfortable, right?”

She pointed his attention to the IV stand by the head of the exam bed.

"I can't promise when she wakes up that she won't be in some pain, but we can adjust the medication through her drip and it'll take effect almost immediately."

He nodded. His hand combed through his hair before he slowly approached the bedside once more.

Poe stood and watched Hol's face for several minutes. He searched hard for any signs of movement or distress but found nothing. Her features were mercifully still and serene for the moment. She was protected under the fog of artificial sleep.

“How long are you going to keep her under?”

The question was spoken in a near whisper. 

“Depends on her vitals, but at least a day, maybe two.”

Kalonia took the time to show him her vitals displayed on the monitor near the head of the bed, providing a brief explanation of what the numbers currently meant. For the moment, everything hovered just barely inside the acceptable range. It was far from ideal, but it was at least temporarily stable. They would have to see over the next few days how she progressed.

While standing there together, they witnessed a ripple of stiff movement pass through Hol’s limbs.

“Whoa…” Poe visibly straightened, alarm written on his face as he began to think the worst.

Kalonia’s hand found his arm.

“Those movements aren’t another seizure.” She assured him. “It’s a residual effect from nerve agent exposure. Think of it like the nerves in her body recalibrating.”

Poe nodded in quiet understanding, but all he could think about was the excuse Kalonia gave him earlier for keeping Hol restrained— how she didn’t want her to hurt herself. There was some logic behind it, he could admit that much. But now that he knew some of what happened to her, he could barely stomach the idea.

They allowed him to stay in Hol’s room overnight. Kalonia had a cot brought in for him to sleep on, but only under the condition that he promised two things: to use the refresher across the hall and to actually get some sleep.

When he was finally alone with her he felt oddly numb. There in the nearly dark ward of the medbay, he stood over Hol’s bed and just watched her. It took several minutes for him to work up the courage to approach, but he did it. His hand briefly rested on the metal railing, as if he was grounding himself before he finally reached to touch her.

His fingers snaked between her own as he slotted his hand over her's. Immediately he realized that her skin felt strangely warm, prompting him to reach up and feel the side of her face. A quick look at her vitals confirmed his suspicions, she had a low-grade fever beginning to form. 

Poe made a note to point it out to one of the medtechs when they would come to make their rounds. He touched her hand once more before he stepped back to take a seat on the unfolded cot.

From there he watched her rest. He felt the heavy pull of exhaustion on his body, but sleep was the last thing he wanted for himself. His mind was all over the place, thinking about too many things at once.

Leia would come to visit her soon. He knew that much. Once she was past the worst and strong enough to speak, they would make her issue a report and do a formal debrief in front of Leia and her counsel.

It would be long and grueling. She would have to relive everything in great detail and be thoroughly questioned. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know all of the facts himself, but he definitely knew that he didn’t want to put her through having to recount it too many times. Those meetings were meant to be classified, but it wouldn’t take long before everyone would know.

Poe so desperately wished that he could save her from that part—when everyone on base would begin to look at her differently. He knew that it was inevitable though. While he sat there next to her bed, watching over her while she slept, he could only think about what was to come.

He knew that for however long she stayed asleep in this room, she was at least protected from all that was waiting out there. The thought comforted him some, even if it was only temporary.

He also knew that the two of them needed to talk about a lot of things once she woke up.

Her position in Black Squadron needed to be rethought. It was a massive understatement to say that her flying under him was unethical. Before Hol left for Batuu they tried to be discreet about their relationship. They both told themselves that they were doing a good enough job keeping things secret, a delusion that went well past the point of denial. They thought their regular heated arguments in front of the others and their general refusal to touch each other would provide ample cover, but their sneaking off to fuck in supplies closets hadn't always been the most covert. But now that she was back, Poe was ready to throw discretion out the window. 

There were without a doubt other positions for her as a pilot, other opportunities, but it was going to be difficult convincing her. Making her understand that it wasn’t a punishment would be delicate.

He would talk it over with Leia, with some of the other squadron leaders. He would confess that he was the one in the wrong, and readily accept whatever disciplinary action came his way. They would figure something out for Hol. They had to.

Poe knew he also owed her an apology. He could have handled things differently when she volunteered for the mission, he could have spoken his mind while remaining supportive. His only memories of that conversation were just of him dressing her down, desperately trying to pull rank as a last ditch effort to keep her from leaving by herself.

The truth was that he was so fucking proud of her. During the weeks she was gone he had been livid, walking around with anger bubbling under his skin at all times. But now all he wanted was for her to hear how proud he felt, because he didn't want to leave her with those memories of their final argument.

She kept her head cool and found her way back. She survived whatever hell she fell into and fought her way out. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how she managed to pull off the execution of that landing. She had one broken arm, was trying to evade being hit with no comms system, all while coming in on fumes.

A medtech came by a couple of hours later, which woke Poe out of a light sleep.

He sat up and watched from his cot as they administered medication, checked the tubes and wires around her body to make sure nothing was out of place. 

He mentioned the fever, which thankfully hadn't climbed any higher. They started her on another course of antibiotics.

“She looks peaceful, doesn’t she?” They asked him at one point.

The very moment he heard the word a bitter taste spread across his entire tongue, making his mouth twist downward in a frown. He knew they meant well enough, but his head still snapped around to look at them in disbelief.

Because "peaceful" had never been Hol. 

Conniving.

Stubborn.

Impulsive.

A pain in his ass.

There were easily ten dozen choice adjectives he and quite a few others on this base could use to describe Hol Tarmin, but peaceful was definitely not one.

Peaceful was a word that people used to describe the dead. 

And his girl wasn’t fucking dead. 

The very idea was something he couldn’t dwell on for too long, because of the way his foundation had very nearly crumbled during those weeks she was gone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt panic the way he had at the crash site, thinking at any moment he would be forced to helplessly watch while she slipped away from him, like watching water slowly leak out of his cupped hands.

It felt selfish to have those thoughts while she was lying there in front of him, but he was keenly aware of how impossibly lucky they were to get her back — how impossibly lucky he was.

@idkwhattoputheress @boghag-after-dark @faveficsblog @flyleaf-girl @whatthehekko @maplemind @foxilayde @arctrooper69 @pascalsaac @booktvmoviefangirl @tattooednursewrites @wild-lavender-rose @alexlynn16 @euphorealis @pioneergirlsie @lilhawkeye3 @theedgeofmagik @x-wing-dameron @kik51199 @isretroavibe @mrs-kidflash @rawrimacarebear @peterwandaparker @kassdyer @holdingthegun

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars #poe dameron/reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x oc #tw blood #tw medical #tw injections #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #tw language #tw swearing

[cowgurrrl]

Everyone I’ve Never Met

Pairing: Ellie Williams x platonic fem!reader

Summary: “You can put your strength down. I’m sitting here with you at your kitchen table. You don’t need to say anything.” - Eden Robinson, Writing Prompts for the Broken-hearted aka you tell Ellie the truth [2k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, angsty angst angst, tumultuous parent/child relationship, references to what happened in Salt Lake City, talks about Anna, grief

She looks shocked when she opens the door to find you there. You smile and glance inside her little house, doing your best to keep the peace. 

"Can I come in?" You ask. She doesn't nod or say anything. She just turns on her heels and leaves the door open for you. You walk as though you're entering hollowed ground, gentle and quiet, so you don't disturb anything in her home. It's clean enough to support life, although you wish she would let you take her laundry from the corner it's piling up in. She stands awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, and you smile at her again, hoping for a glimpse of that innocent girl you saw so much of five years ago. "How's Dina?"

"Why are you asking about her?" She clamps up.

"Just curious," You try to soothe her, but her shoulders are still by her ears. You take a deep breath and hold the thick file in your hands. "I know you're mad, but I've been working on something for a while and wanted you to have it." You say, placing it on the table next to her.

"What is it?"

"There were some people who owed me favors back in Boston. They were able to get me some information about your mother," you say. She looks confused but opens the folder anyway. "It was a shot in the dark. I didn't know how much they'd be able to find, but-"

"How were they even able to get all this stuff?" She asks as she sifts through the stack of papers. There's more than you thought there would be. Letters from patients that Anna helped, scraps of newspaper with her handwriting on them, a half-finished silly lullaby called Ellie's Belly. You wanted to cry when you read it. Few obstetricians practiced after Outbreak Day; even if they did, they needed the equipment to do sonograms. The likelihood that Anna knew she was having a girl before she gave birth was slim to none, but she still wrote this for her Ellie. Your heart hurts when you think about how much she loved the daughter she never got to raise. 

"Anna Williams had a lot of people who loved her. When she died, people were devastated. Made them cling to what they had left a little tighter. What did you know about her before this?"

"I knew she was a nurse and was friends with Marlene, but that was pretty much it. I have her knife and a letter she wrote me," she trails off as she picks up a faded Polaroid. She shows it to you hesitantly, like she's afraid you'll rip it up. "Is this her?"

"It was in with Marlene's stuff. I don't know if this was before the Outbreak or after," you glance between her and the smiling redhead, forever frozen in time. She looks kind with big green eyes and a big, toothy smile. She can't be more than twenty-two in the picture, and you wonder how far away she was from getting pregnant. "You look just like her." For half a second, Ellie grins. Her fingers trace the outline of her mother's features. You wish she were here. You wonder if you two would've gotten along, but it seems hard to imagine that you wouldn't if she's the woman who brought Ellie into the world. 

"Did you… were you able to find anything about my father?" 

"Nothing concrete. Some people said he was a FEDRA officer. Others said he was a smuggler passing through. She never said anything to anyone about who he might be," You watch her shoulders slump a little, and your fingers twitch to squeeze her. You don't. "I'm sorry." You say instead. She shakes her head and shrugs.

"It's fine." She says. It doesn't feel fine, but you nod anyway. You take a few steps toward her front door, suddenly feeling like you're intruding. 

"I can leave you with all this. I know it's a lot to take in."

"Wait," she stops you, looking up from the tiny ghosts of her mother, and the air seems to get trapped in your lungs. This is the most she's looked at you since she found out. "How is he?"

"He's okay. He misses you. We both miss you." 

"I miss you, too. This whole thing... it doesn't just have to do with you two. There's more that I'm trying to figure out."

"I get it. If you have any questions, I'll do my best to give you answers." 

"Thanks," she walks over to her cabinet and pulls down a big bottle of whiskey. You both sit at the table as she pours two healthy drinks. Joel probably wouldn't approve of you two drinking before patrol tomorrow, but you don't care. The silence is less uncomfortable now and feels the most normal in months. She sloshes the drink in her glass, a pensive look taking over her features, and you lean back in your chair to watch her. 

"I can hear you thinking." You say. She puffs air out of her nose in a quiet laugh and looks at you.

"Am I that obvious?"

"No, I just know you," it spills out of your mouth, and she chews the inside of her lip. "What's goin' on up there, kiddo?"

"Tell me what really happened that day." She says. You take a big sip of whiskey as you remember waking up in the Firefly hospital. A lot of it is still blurry, and you're not sure if things will ever get clearer. You don't know if your brain is protecting you from the horrors of that day or if you genuinely blacked out. What you can remember is bloody and riddled with shell casings, broken glass, and bodies. So many bodies.

"You're not gonna like it."

"That's not what I asked."

"Marlene and some Fireflies were in the room with us when we woke up after the smoke bomb went off. We wanted to see you, but she told us you were going into surgery and explained that they would crack your skull and pull the Cordyceps out of your brain to get what they needed for the cure. Just like that," you shake your head. You didn't realize how angry you still were at Marlene for deceiving all of you, for making you think she had a future when she never intended to let Ellie walk out of the hospital. "Something snapped in both of us. They pointed guns in our faces and were told to escort us out of the hospital and to the highway, but the Firefly soldiers walked us right past our stuff. They never had any intention of letting us live, so we did the only thing we knew how to do."

"Kill?"

"Survive," you correct, remembering the blind rage that overtook the both of you that day. "One of the guys grabbed me, and that was all Joel needed. I don't remember much else, but I know we made it out with you. I know we did horrible things and killed people because nobody mattered to us as much as you did. As much as you still do."

"Why did you choose me? You could've helped save the world. They would've hailed you and Joel as heroes, but now you're just here."

"During that first year, you became our world. You made us laugh and worry and love for the first time in years. It became an unspoken agreement that you were more important than us, that if it came down to saving you or either of us, we would always pick you," you say. "So that's what we did. We picked you. We saved our world. Fuck everyone else." 

"So many people have died because there isn't a vaccine. Riley, Tess, Sam," she takes a breath as she looks at that polaroid again. "My mother."

"And making one wasn't going to bring them back."

"So, you don't regret it?"

"I regret lying to you and how it's affected us, but I don't regret saving you."

"My life would've had meaning. You fucking took that from me."

"There was never any proof that the cure was going to work. They were experimenting. That's all they were ever going to do. Once we realized that, there wasn't a chance in hell that we were going to let them do that to you," you say. "If you were going to die in that hospital, we were going to die right alongside you."

"Maybe that would've been better." Hardened eyes bore into yours as she says it. She's unflinching, precise, and hits you right where it hurts. You’ve seen the same tactic in how she kills, in how you and Joel kill. The similarity makes you want to throw up.

"Maybe," you nod. "But, I would do it all over again, even knowing what I know now." Ellie shakes her head and takes a big sip of her drink. The silence that fills the space between you is unbearable. You want her to scream, to yell, to throw a tantrum. You want her to unleash all her anger so you can love her anyways. You want her to see that even as she yells and hates you, you'll still stand there and say, "I can take it. I'm not afraid of you because I know you and I love you.”

You don't know that you can ever forgive Marlene for putting so much weight on fourteen-year-old shoulders. Ellie was a kid. A kid with immense guilt who felt like the only way her life could have meaning was if she died because everyone she has ever loved had died. Even if you had the chance to go back and ask Ellie's opinion, you still think you would've done what you did. A teenager in that headspace is not the right person to make decisions about their mortality. But just because she's alive and has a new life doesn't mean the weight Marlene gave her is gone. If anything, it's gotten heavier, and she's gotten quieter. 

She rubs her eyes and bounces her knee under the table, a habit she picked up from you. She's exhausted and looks like she could start crying at any second. "I trusted you." She mumbles, sounding so much like the Ellie you met all those years ago. Your throat feels raw as you stare at her.

"I know," you say. Your voice is soft but not quite apologetic. "Ellie-"

"You were right. It's getting late, and we both have patrol in the morning, so you should go." She says, standing from her chair to put her empty glass in the sink. With her back to you, you look up at the ceiling to force the tears back into your eyes. You clear your throat and stand, but she doesn't turn. 

"Try to get some sleep," You say in place of "I love you," and she hums from the sink. Anna's smiling face watches you leave her Ellie's house and walk back out into the freezing night, feeling emptier than when you showed up. You glance through her window and find her still standing at the sink, clutching her stomach as her chest moves quickly. It looks like she’s having a panic attack. You want to go back in to soothe her, to hug her and tell her everything will be okay, before you remember that you probably caused the attack. You feel like you just got punched in the stomach as you go against your better judgement and start walking home.

You wonder if this is how it’s going to be for the rest of your lives— watching her life unfold behind glass, unable to do or say anything to make her feel better. At least, she’s alive, you try to remind yourself, but is it really living if she’s not sleeping, eating, or letting herself feel anything? Is it a life if she’s mourning every time she should’ve died but didn’t? Is it a life if you’re watching her slowly kill herself from behind glass, your desperate screaming falling upon deaf ears?

Or did the most important part of all three of you die in that hospital and you’re walking corpses? Does digging into a wound to find and name the bullet make the pain any better?

🍓

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(June stop getting philosophical at the end of every fic challenge)

#ellie williams #joel and ellie #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #anna williams #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #platonic Ellie Williams #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess

[moonlight-tmd]

Cons are good a.u.

How much better would the decepticons handle neurodivergence?

Hmm well, I'm sure they would have something but they're not really that far away from Cybertron.

Decepticons were originally from Cybertron and followed their rules until they were outcasted. Some of the best medics and mechanics were sided with Decepticons, although with lack of proper equipment and medicine, there isn't much to work with outside of major cities outside Cybertron they control.

Despite things not being registered in the medical code, the Decepticon medics handle such things as any real issue one would have.

For example Shockwave/Longarm- he has a slight personality split thing from creation. He was originally just a normal civil mech just living his life as more than one person. When the war was brewing he joined the Decepticons and with his ability to be one person with many faces he acts as a spy for them.

Blitzwing is a whole new thing- he was programmed with some sort of AuDHD (autism+adhd). He was originally a seeker working in the Decepticon file department along with Shockwave and got the appropriate treatment but the need to move and be in action was eating him inside out, so Megatron re-assigned him to be a seeker scout. Then the war got rougher and Decepticons were forced to abandon any honor they had left and turn to more heinous means.

The projects to improve their frames started and along with that several candidactes volunteered or were picked. Blitzwing originally didn't want to do it but got persuaded by Megatron. The success rates were low but Blitzwing was a success... at a cost.

Something went wrong with his programming when adjusting to another altmode and now he had a permanent personality disorder. He was the first and the last to go under such procedure and be alive.

Blitzwing may be scared of Megatron after this but Megatron still treats him with respect. He thinks of Blitzwing as his son and will protect him if need be.

I don't really know where i was going with this, i'm a bit rusty but to summarize: The 'cons are aware of the existance of such issues and are trying their best to help folks with them. They have treatment and try to share it with whoever they can without getting them killed for having associations with Decepticons. Those that have neurodivergent and other issues get assigned to appropriate jobs to do well in.

Cybertron's council is corrupt and they only care about profit so people are forced to live in this pretend-utopia dystopia to survive and deal with whatever shit hits them. If they have those undiagnosed issues the society only treats them as useless troublemakers and they are most likely quick to lose jobs.

Bumblebee, being forged in the corrupt era of Cybertron, had several issues with his programming and ended up being an underdeveloped frame that got classified as minibot. He struggled with academy and somehow landed a job at a club, the owner was secretly a decepticon-favoring folk and got him in touch with specialists to patch whatever issues he had, even sponsored it when he didn't have money for the procedures. He had a little easier life.

On earth he got diagnosed with ADHD and symptoms of depression- Ratchet never says where he gets the treatment pills for him but they work so he never bothers to ask. Prowl has autism so he's also on the treatment list, Optimus too (PTSD stuff). (He pays Swindle to deliver him stuff a normal supply delivery wouldn't give him. It's the only reason he's able to maintain them all working. A less ethical practice of his is copying one's files to another hard drive in case their system crashes and deletes them, he keeps quiet about it.)

I think that's about it? Lemme know if i missed something.

#maccadam #tfa #tfa au #cons are good au #tfa shockwave #tfa blitzwing #tfa megatron #tfa bumblebee

[fiepige]

More Sea Serpent Hobie thoughts!

(been thinking about this au all day, it's completely consumed my mind!)

I was kinda toying with the idea of Hobie being able to take a human form. (In this version most people wouldn't know that sea serpents exist so he uses it as a way to interact with humans without revealing his true nature to them)

He visits a small local fishing village from time to time to hang out with the locals- mostly at the pub, but he also likes hanging around at the harbour

Cause he just gets lonely sometimes and humans make fun company- he finds tales about daring trips to sea entertaining, but he also loves to hear stories about places from far within the mainland as he's always stayed close to the ocean.

Nobody in the village knows what he really is- they all just think he's this odd but kind loner who visits from time to time.

He's well renowned by the people in the village, both for being a nice and helpful guy and because of his unique skills*

He never pays for anything in cash but instead in old trinkets and treasures he finds while out at sea - this resulted in a few arguments at first, but now people have come to accept it, some even look forward to seeing what he'll pull out as payment whenever he visits

if he doesn't have any treasure to pay with he'll offer to pay in favours- specifically favours that involve diving.

*If you need a diving job done he's your guy

He can stay underwater forever and go far deeper than any of the locals.

So if you need to retrieve something from, let's say a sunken ship, he's your guy!

He insists on going on missions alone- it's just easier to get it done if he can dive unseen in his serpent form.

The only people he doesn't get along with are authority figures and whalers!

There aren't any whalers residing in the village but sometimes a whaling boat will come by to restock. Every time they do Hobie terrorizes the crew as much as he can get away with. While also being very vocal about his opinion of them in general. He's gotten in fights with them more than once.

It's also not unusual for the whalers to find their ship vandalised if they stay overnight.

When he's in his human form he lives on a small island near the village, but far enough away that he can't be seen changing from serpent to human form and vice versa

He has a small hut where he keeps some fishing equipment (mostly for show in case a human comes by and wonders how he's able to feed himself on this tiny island) as well as a small garden where he grows different greens.

He'll trade his food for stuff with the villages, he mostly trades for clothes, sewing equipment or beer at the pub

Sometimes he'll disappear at sea for weeks at a time- if any of the villagers question him about it he'll just say he was out fishing- despite him only owning a small rowboat with a small engine, that doesn't work half the time. - He uses it to get to and from the island in human form as to not alert the villagers to his true form.

At some point he befriends Gwen**, who's a newcommer, when a local overhears her lamenting the loss of her mother's trinket at sea, and they suggest she asks Hobie for help- since the guy has a way of finding things lost at sea

Gwen doesn't really believe he can actually find it but seeks him out nonetheless cause it can't hurt to ask

Hobie accepts the job. In exchange he wants Gwen to tell him about the places she's been to before she moved to the village.

(** you can kinda replace Gwen with any character you want. I'm kinda considering making a small fic for this au where the reader takes Gwen's place, but I don't have the time nor energy to write it any time soon. Also I've never written a fic from the first person point of view so I'm not sure how it would turn out lol.)

Lemme know what you guys think! 💙Any input is welcome- it can be world building stuff, story stuff, ideas for hobie's serpent form or something else!

#oh yeah I'm normal about this au #it's not like I'm constantly thinking about it- imagining all the stories and interactions you could write for this au #I've even drawn a few scetches of hobie's sea serpent form but I can't really settle on what I want him to look like #cause on one hand I kinda want him to be humanoid/mermaid like- but on the other hand I want him to actually look like a serpent! #might share them at some point but I haven't really drawn one that I want to consider his true form yet so idk #all I do know for certain is that I want him to be BIG in his serpent form #also any thoughts and inputs from you guys is greatly appreciated! #cause this au is still very new so I'd love to hear other people's ideas going forward #hobie brown #spider punk #sea serpent hobie #across the spider verse #atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse au #spiderverse #my post #my au

[linipik]

FAR OUT AT SEA

"Shiro is determined to know if the new human research base is a risk for his fellow merfolk with the help of a marine biologist and research intern Adam."

rating: T

pairing: Adam/Shiro

tags: Adam (Voltron) Shiro (Voltron), Keith for half a line but he is there, Merman Shiro, Everyone lives, First Meetings, plot-driven action, Alternate Universe Merpeople, Canon-Typical Violence

This fic is part of the Once Upon the Seashore PDF (get it for free on my Ko-fi)

Chapter 2 of 4

Previous Chapter

Although Shiro was so sure he had not given anything away during their conversations, Adam was observant enough to notice Shiro asked too many questions about things he should already know, given the information shared in the application process. He was convinced Shiro was plotting something off protocol, maybe something against the superior officers, even, yet he just couldn't bring himself to openly confront him or become a snitch. He could not imagine “Takashi” would do anything harmful, after all; he was a bit impulsive maybe one of those diehard conservationists with their head way out of the bureaucracy of laboratories and Adam couldn’t blame that passion, but the Shiro he met wouldn't purposefully hinder the ongoing research or hurt anybody. After some thought, Adam decided to keep quiet and figure out Shiro’s intentions bit by bit.

He didn’t have to wait much. Shiro confessed that he suspected there were undercover operations going on at the deepest levels of the base, which used the excuse of oceanographic research to do something else, maybe weapon development or oil exploration. Adam wouldn’t say Shiro’s suspicions were too unfounded and he never signed up for something like that, And when Shiro asked Adam's help to infiltrate that area in order to confirm such suspicions, to which Adam, agreed with no hesitation.

That was how it started or ended. The challenge was demanding and exciting at first, but once they went over all the unsupervised laptops and offices left without keys, they realized there was a wall.

The juiciest stuff was locked under top-quality security systems and the best equipment, as two mere interns, there was nothing they could do.

Despite the overwhelming evidence of their defeat, Shiro was adamant about finding a way to bypass the security measures as soon as possible. Choosing his words carefully, Adam tried to talk him out of it. He told Shiro that, although he was completely right in that breaking into grade A military secret files was the responsible thing to do, right at the moment they were at a disadvantage. They would fare better by ascending first, they needed more time and a real plan to uncover in any meaningful way what was going on, they were also in a position of power that allowed them to make sure this clarence problems on the research they were supposed to work didn’t happen. He asked Shiro for patience.

– o –

It was another afternoon in the cafeteria after another dead end looking for the relevant classified data.

 “Whatever they are doing, it has not caused noticeable damage so far, so they must be calculating it carefully,” Adam insisted, “it would not be convenient for them to just destroy a whole ecosystem in a day or something.”

“Yeah, I guess” Shiro replied, unable to hide his scowl, The same exploitative human practices that have always worried him, that keep merfolk hidden, “They think they have the right to do anything they want with what they find just because it’s unexplored for them, it’s not fair” 

There they were again, the same stubborn passion, the same edge in his words that set Shiro way apart from others to Adam, like there was something bigger out there.

“I totally get you, but we gotta play our cards right. What if they get us trying to hack the security system and they kick us off or send us to jail? In that case, we are not ever going to figure out anything.” Adam’s tone was calculated and yes, he was reasonable.

Shiro took a moment to think, averting his gaze toward the window. The skies outside looked gloomy. There was no storm alert, but they would probably have rain later.

“I guess you are right.” 

Adam wanted to say something more, maybe suggest they do something different for a change, let go of the stress of the last few days with like… a date? But before he could gather the courage to ask, Shiro nodded with a tired smile and disappeared down the corridor toward his room.

Righ. He most likely wanted to recover some sleep. The date idea would have to wait.

– o –

Shiro, however, didn't have “rest” or “sleep” anywhere in his mind. His duty was first to discover if merfolk were in any danger and he couldn’t clear his suspicions in a human way, not with Adam by his side.  After gathering some tools, he sneaked out of his room and left the residential area, careful to no bring attention to himself on his way to the deck. He knew Adam would disapprove… or worry if he went looking for Shiro and didn't find him in his room. He felt as if he was betraying the unspoken thing they had going on. That thought almost made him turn back. Almost.

Once he considered he was far enough in the loading docks and thus safe from onlookers and obscured away from the security cameras, Shiro silently jump in the water and was again a merman, now underwater he felt more clarity than the days before. He had postponed his mission enough. No matter what kind of mission the military was running undercover, they could not be anything good and it was Shiro's duty to stop them for his people. After all, he was one of the few who ventured far into human territory and he knew how terrifying they could be. 

Stealthily swimming back to the base, Shiro snuck through one of the underwater gates and began destroying all the underwater equipment and submarines he could find. That should get the officers distracted so he could have the time to finally get to the deeper levels and deal with whatever they are really doing there.

----

Far Out at Sea is complete on PDF >> GET IT HERE <<

#ADASHI #VOLTRON #voltron legendary defender #fanfic #it just makes me happy to have all here #also thank you so much to everyone who has pay for it on ko-fi #y'all are amazing

[cryingalexanders]

thoughts about pre-crisis Lex Luthor

now that I've read all of earth-one/pre-crisis lex's main canon appearances, I thought I'd list some things I noticed or found interesting.

It was consistent that pre-crisis Lex didn't care about money. Some stories went as far as to emphasise he could've been rich if he'd wanted to but he would actively scorn it!

By the time we get to the early 80s he's living a comfortable lifestyle, and had his own secret island base. But he still frets when Superman smashes millions of dollars worth of equipment

In the silver age he would buy abandoned places to use as bases under false names and keep them at the ready, presumably using money from bank robberies. They were usually on-theme too like museums, observatories, etc. I definitely think this is an element that should come back

The way he dresses. the coloured pants! his little ascots! they were such a thing for pre-crisis Lex

He also has this escape-artist thing going on, where he "enjoys the challenge" and there's a scene which hints at him being bored at having been out of prison for a while

I don't really mind this change and I think either way makes sense, but before Cary Bates and Marv Wolfman brought in elements influenced by the 78 movie in the early 80s... there was no indication that Lex ever mistreated his goons/lackeys. he would at least pay lip service to their wellbeing. it was his interactions with other villains that were much more hostile and laden with betrayal. (as well as cellmates when he had them)

Cary Bates had a great take on Lex, don’t get me wrong, he wrote some of his best pre-crisis stories, but he seemed to be taking a lot of cues from Donner/Hackman Lex going into the 80s, and I feel that kind of synergy lessened what was special about the comic counterpart.

There were writers, especially in the late silver age/early bronze age, who wrote Lex as more cold and overtly misanthropic. That's what I see in Waid's take on him. So it is drawing on the silver age, it's just specific stories rather than the general trends. e.g. Action Comics #363-365 is a very Waid-esque version of pre-crisis Lex.

Silver age Brainiac was actually pretty loyal to Lex and wouldn't leave him behind (Lex wasn't the same way back unfortunately). there was definitely subterfuge but they had a weirdly sweet relationship. it's sure different from modern stuff where they're always 2 seconds away from murdering each other whenever they interact (hell even the bronze age was like that because Brainiac became a darker character)

there's this one Superboy comic where it's established that Jonathan Kent and Lex hate each other because Jonathan denied him parole as a member of the reform school board. most of the time Jonathan seemed more indifferent to him though

on the other hand, silver age Martha felt sorry for Lex (and lowkey wanted to adopt him), even when he was trying to kill her son (if you don't know, pre-crisis Lex started trying to kill Superboy when they were teenagers in Smallville, but regardless of that goal he was generally considered a more lighthearted "menace")

I know that technically he had an older sister who was Nastalthia's mother but the actual flashbacks to his childhood treated him as the oldest sibling and it just being him and Lena, and that's the dynamic I prefer.

Lex as an uncle though. he’s so cute with Val (well, for the most part. it was complicated). his relationship with Nasty was bland though.

His relationship with Lena and by extension, Supergirl, was so interesting. Lex was usually so chill whenever he showed up in Supergirl, the way they had an understanding that he could be counted on to protect Lena, and I wish he and Kara would’ve interacted more during those times he had truces with Superman, considering she saw his protective/selfless side before Superman did.

#lex luthor

[nightseeye]

Teehee, OC stuffs mainly, but lotsa Fresh in there too. Even did a lil writing based off the middle comic (fresh and HCT (square robo), put it in a readmore

Its set after game events, and also my undrawn comic events regarding my two ocs, just a lil convo between an protective guard robo and the guy who caused them to almost kill their boss

Lel had swept out like a whirlwind, leaving the two in silence, studiously ignoring one another as they waited for the scientist to return. Fresh fidled with their headset, while the robot simply stared straight at the empty doorway Lel had disappeared through.

"STATEMENT: Clear dislike of subject." Cut through the silence, leaving the beat surprised it was broken at all.

Fresh couldn't help but roll their eye once they actually registered the obvious understatement. Anytime they came to talk to Lel, the robot was never too far away, hovering in a corner somewhere like the obnoxiously overprotective guard dog it was built to be. Not the worst reaction they've gotten from someone, but after enough time it became... grating.

"Unsurprising." The beat couldn't help the disdain and dismissal that dripped off the single word, cutting their gaze away from the robot.

"EXPOUND: Subject is the cause of PRIMARY OBJECTIVE failure."

That alone brought their attention back to the conversation. It wasn't rare that Fresh learned whatever particular reason a person had for hating them, but they haven't yet heard one from the robot. Usually it was something along the lines of tearing apart the Treeangle, or turning the seas pink. Nothing ever personal enough that they actually cared - beyond those flowers they beat up during their freedom-induced rampage, - but the beat was curious to hear whatever reason had taken it so long to spit out.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

The robot gazed up ever so slightly, as if reading it out from thin air: "PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: Keep USER Lel safe, hale, and happy."

Fresh couldn't help but flinch back as the robot slowly turned to face them, a single glowing pupil growing to encompass its entire eye in an admittedly very unnerving display. They could almost imagine how threatening the machine had looked when corrupted with the single spark of pink flickering in its eye, sharp claws pointing at the beat.

"STATEMENT: Cause of PRIMARY OBJECTIVE failure."

That simple sentence was just the truth, but nothing had ever felt more like an accusation, judgement, and condemnation than that. It struck true like an execution, guilt tying a noose around their neck and rendering them silent. There was nothing Fresh could say to to defend themself, no excuses to give, and none that they'd want to try. Maybe if they hadn't grown so close to the scientist these past few weeks, that single sentence wouldn't feel so bad, but... the knowledge that they had a hand in Lel's pain, in that kind scientist's fear...

Maybe they could understand HCT's hatred a little better.

"VEXATION: Subject is.-"  The fragmented sentence was was enough to pull their thoughts out of the spiral they were going down, and Fresh couldn't almost help but feel grateful towards the robot, even as it turned back away from them. With its pupil returned to normal size, they were able to see its expression change from angry, to fustrated, and settle on annoyed as it found a way to complete its sentence, "..tolerated, by USER Lel."

Fresh snorted.

"I think they do more than tolerate me." They replied, mind drifting back to all the times they've poked around the lab, only to be caught by Lel, and not scolded, but taught about how whatever equipment they were poking at worked.

How, even as the scientist threw a million questions their way, they were kind enough to notice the ones the beat shied away from, and not ask anymore. The snacks, the smiles, the simple greetings and waves if they ever passed one another elsewhere in Paradise. They wouldn't be surpised if Lel counted them as an friend.

The beat knew they counted them as one.

There was a sound Fresh could almost describe as a prim sniff, if it hadn't come from the robot bigger than they were, "EXPOUND: Lethal force distinctly unauthorized."

Lel rushed back into the room to see Fresh in tears on the floor, gasping for air as they cackled, while HCT stood, seemingly unmoved as it glared off to the side.

#i also need it to be understood that none of this is romantic lel's first and only romantically coded love is science #fresh and lel is more of a #just shapes and beats #jsab #jsab oc #jsab blixer #jsab fresh #jsab art #lel and hct #nighty arts #sketch #nighty writes #th writing turned out slightly different in tone compared to the lil comic thing but thats mostly bc i was kinda doin whatever in the comic #while the writing had a lil more thought/backstory behind it than ''guard threatens guy for causing Issueswow ur so niceys to me are we frie #while HCT and lel are like. "you brought me to life respect me and are kind and smart. ur so fucking bad at self care tho its AWFUL''

[necros-writing-stuff]

https://www.tumblr.com/necros-writing-stuff/725707476960411648/just-imagine-oh-apocalypse-or-zombie?source=sharecould

you do more headcannons? please

Sure can do! The link above is to what Eden would be like when he realises he's in a zombie apocalypse and the TL:DR is basically it's business as usual for him.

You try to get away from Eden many times. From sneaking away in the night, to screaming bloody murder and attraction the undead while on supply runs with him. Your record of getting away has been 3 days.

It's horrible to admit, but he knows a lot that could keep you safe. Lessons you should have listened to before escaping for the three days, because you would have died if he hadn't found you.

The town was in the middle of renovations when everything hit. A road was being put into the forest to get to the lake. Construction equipment was everywhere, and you'd been on the lookout for an axe or a crowbar or something you could use to stay safe when a dug-up tree hanging from a crane snapped in two and landed on you.

That almost killed you alone, the impact sending you sprawling on the tarmac, the jump you'd made to get out of the way not far enough. Your ankle was caught. And the bone was broken.

It was loud, and soon enough you heard the gargles of the undead coming for you. All you had was a hunting knife you'd stolen from Eden when you'd ran. He'd been cuddled up with his gun, making it far too risky to try and take it.

Desperately, you'd hacked at the bark, the smell of rot coming from the old tree. It gave way easily under the blade, but there was so much of it to get rid of before your leg would be free.

The first zombie came stumbling through the trees. It was slow - most of them are now. But it would get to you soon enough if you couldn't get out.

For every step it took, you stabbed at the tree three damned times. The old bark bent and splintered as you pulled despite the pain shooting up your calf. More zombies came from the trees.

You wouldn't cry. Couldn't. You were too scared to, too pumped up on adrenaline as you snarled and pulled. It wasn't enough.

Something grabbed you, hands landing on your shoulders as your heart froze in your chest. You hadn't paid attention to the other side of the road, view blocked by the bulky body of the crane.

Those hands tightened on you. Ready for the creature to dig its teeth in and end your life. Instead, they pulled. Just as you made to turn and try to stab the knife into its head. They dragged you out from the dead tree. And hauled you over a shoulder you were already familiar with.

"Should have walked around the fucking hanging tree instead of going under." Eden was as charming as ever as he marched away with you, his long legs keeping a pace that the undead could never match.

"My ankle-"

"Yeah I'll wrap it up when we're home. We'll have to take a few loop around though so they don't follow us back, so grit your teeth and shut up."

You want to retaliate. Want to. Instead you tuck his stolen knife into his belt and try to come to terms with the fact that you'd failed to get away again. Worse, you'd injured yourself bad enough that you really would need him.

Maybe he'd keep his hands to himself out of pity for a week or so?

#spill your guts #anonymous #eden the hunter #gn reader #cw injury #cw noncon mention

[starsnheroes]

[ hold ] one muse cradles the other’s face between their hands ground them. 

// Make it Linda holding his face pls maybe?

@thefleetsfinest -> here's that into darkness thing we were talking about

Where to begin with the past several ⸻honestly, she hasn't been keeping track of the time and in the following days, Linda would come to find how short a time that everything had happened.

From apprehending a man, three hundred years old, to the Enterprise being fired upon; it happened in rapid succession one thing after the next thing after the next. Lives lost, that's the most important sticking fact to her. Linda had been scared along with everyone else, but she knew her role and the face she had to wear. A brave face, stepped right up and she had been intensive situations before.

When the ship first arrived, transporter and shuttles being used to land on the planet. Precautions taken, protective equipment worn and masses of people getting sick, dying. The first week were the roughest, assessment of a situation that was worse than the initial information that they had received. It was awful, made her feel ill and shed tears in the one moment alone she'd find.

They helped people, that's what a hospital ship was for. Helping, bringing supplies, relief and aid. Crisis. Linda's proven to herself that she could handle that, after so many years of medical school and training, and she knew she could. When she had been there, it really had tested her.

The Captain didn't die there nor had there been a three hundred year old war criminal and an Admiral who gone so far with what he had done. Linda was sure when the shock wore off for everyone there will be reports and all the sort of stuff that even before she considered Starfleet, stuff Linda hadn't cared for. The talk, all the bureaucracy of everything. It wouldn't be at the top of her concerns, that would go to the Chief Medical Officer. There would be a funeral after for everyone lost.

Linda's already got the number in her head, or at least a guess from before they were even pulled out of the Enterprise after it was all over. She knows her people, knows the ship crew and size. It's not hard to keep Help coming, taking accounting and the count was one less than what it was The Captain, something that may have felt sort of him playing at being a god; that's one of the things that any medical professional all secretly thought they could play at, when it came to saving lives and Chief Mccoy had done it. He had played god, and it was remarkable. Her eyes couldn't look away from him.

Khan's blood had done it, revived a dead tribble and the Captain's only had just died. Livor mortis sets in at twenty minutes, that had been the window of time that felt like a miracle. Tribble starts breathing and brain function was first to save, the heart could be fine for up to an order and the heart valves for a day. She was able to work with that when Dr. Marcus and Chief Mccoy had put Jim Kirk in cryo to preserve what function was there.

That had been rush, she's not even sure how many hours had gone by once they had Khan, and begin transfusing blood. She had a hand in this, father wrote the modern book on hearts published multiple journals about congenial heart diseases, she was keeping an eye on the Captain's heart, made sure it was pumping properly as the blood transfusion had began. Carol Marcus and Leonard Mccoy worked on everything else while she was the monitor.

THE CAPTAIN LIVES. A miracle, and she's sure now that they had him in a hospital bed. Lungs breathing and brain function appearing present. The blood had left Jim heavily irradiated, and he's been out cold but alive. It's incredible, and her eye haven't left Leonard. They had already been looking, before he played a god, before any of this. Her eyes have been on him, chest went incredibly tight when they knew that Jim had died, watched the way that he went tense; held himself together and than dropped down at a bench, the bench with the tribble.

She couldn't move, shared that moment of silence with everyone. She had been attending to a crewman, she couldn't recall who, but her eyes had went to Leonard and watched him hold his face in his hand. His friend had just died, and he hadn't been there. Linda had watched, pinpointed the moment as the tribble began breathing how his mind had begun to work. Eureka in those blues as he runs a test, as he makes the order to get Kirk into a cryo pod. She had been monitoring those.

Preserve as much brain function, had to be fast and Linda's still watching him. Kirk's in coma, but he's alive and going to recover. There's much to worry about him still, irradiated cells and blood pumping through his body; that puts his heart on overtime, there was so much that could still go wrong. There is that chance that he won't wake up, or an unforeseen neurological change within Kirk when, if he wakes up.

It was four days post, and it's catching up to him. There's something tight between his shoulder blades as he's monitoring the Captain. Linda notices how he had been dry swallowing, jaw clenching and she can guess at a grinding of his teeth. She's aware that he hasn't had a moment alone, reports and talk, being in here to monitor Kirk himself. Linda knows why he does that, long chat about anything and everything. Jim was his best friend, and he put himself at risk and died. Revival wouldn't matter.

I can keep watching him, and she would continue monitoring him. There's nothing to update, his body was healing. He lived. She takes over, or tries to when she can. Enforce that she won't work under the Chief if he's not taking any care of himself. Linda doesn't know what he does when she stands in the door way and refuses him to entrance. As the days drag on to two weeks, Linda knows she's wearing herself thin but she's holding on better.

It's nothing to comparable like anything before, but she's had experiences and someone had to. It's as it reaches two weeks, and Jim Kirk wakes up, that Linda is certain he's not sleeping. That was already a given, but he's really not doing well. Jim's awake, and than there's something, as they were both leaving for the evening. Linda knows not to presume how someone will react to anything. Heart transplant, and the young woman excited to have a new lease on life comes back one month later sobbing for the heart to be ripped put and left with a dead heart.

His best friend was alive, awake now, and he seems defeated, heartbroken. Linda tries to say something, call him back. Hey Chief, you, uh, and she chokes on that. Try to get some sleep, Mccoy, I mean it. She was really worried about him, should have just said that. Admit that she watches, pays attention, and he's her friend. Close friend, possibly her best friend on the ship. She should have just aid that, she's shown the concern before but come on, Carter. She knows that her noticing him was more.

It's hours later, and Linda's gotten sleep and she's his friend, call him or better yet he told her where's his apartment. She's up early, way early enough that it makes it an odd hour, most people don't show up at seven am but they knew each other's sleep schedules. He'd be awake and he'd appreciate good coffee.

That's how she ended up in front of his San Francisco apartment, and he does answer to her. AND THE SIGHT OF HIM ⸻ Oh, he was drunk, not just hung over but like he still was nursing a drink. There really had been something bothering him, whatever it was after Jim had woken up. ❝ I'm guessing you're hoping that I had brought an Irish coffee. ❞ She comes in, won't let him take back opening the door to her.

❝ I don't mind the state or the mess. ❞ She's in, and he was sad; must've been mulling over something all night.

Cursory glance around the place, mostly searching for what was his poison was. She takes in the little kitchen, the living room with the bookshelves. Another time, maybe she could browse them and take her pick of things. Really, what she was doing was looking for his poison. One large bottle, and a glass sitting to be filled. There's maybe less than half of the glass worth left. It's got to be a strong proof, and he was going to have one hell of a hangover that was not going to be polite with him.

Linda knows that this was heavy to be dealing with, and she's got to weight her options with him. Decides, however, that he was done at least and one more was only going to make him hurt him. She goes to pour the final glass, and drinks it herself. It's not to show off, but she finishes off the rest in a go. ❝ You don't have the worst taste but there is better whiskeys. ❞ A soft muse, poor attempt at humor she knows. Linda knows her liquor, ❝ Poker with ol' pops, no Doctor Carter in this family wasn't going to not know the good drinks from the bad drinks. ❞

She explains, just to be talking and show that it was okay. She was here, and she wasn't going anywhere; no judgements either. Linda sets the glass down, next to the coffees and leaning down, reaches to take off her shoes. ❝ Come on, floor time, no saying no. Indulge me. ❞ Linda goes to get water instead, because coffee wasn't the trick to countering alcohol consumption. It was the trick to hiding alcohol consumption.

He'll know what that means, over the year they've been working together and they'd end up in his office, sitting on the floor. Shoes became optional, once they felt like were friends and Linda admitted while her shoes were comfortable she rather have them off. So floor time, no shoes, and they'd just sit and talk. Take a moment to just be before they were back to work. It's their thing, what she'd do for a friend.

She moves the coffee table away from the couch to make room for them on the floor. Sits herself in front of his couch, back against it than pats the spot directly next to him and looks at him expectantly. Come on, she's his friend and she's watched him for two weeks wear himself to the. . . . the bone; she knows his nickname, the pun wasn't intended. There's concern on all fronts, but Linda wasn't letting her friend continue or be alone.

They sit, just quiet for a moment and she just focuses on her breathing. ❝ So, that was a lot, sweeping it under the rug? ❞ She starts, trying to speculate perhaps where some of this was coming from. ❝ Christ, I am doing alright or I will be, will be okay again after some time. Nothing like what I've worked under before. ❞ She starts with herself, just talks and tell him about the rush of the day it was, along with the lead up. Admits she was scared, worried for him a lot of it.

❝ First week on planet, the masses. . . . Fifty patients about every nurse and doctor; thirty eight of those first fifty under my watch died. ❞ She's talking about her last ship she had been aboard, giving him some context for where he was at with her feeling. How she handled everything there. She had lost fellow nurses and doctors too, who got infected but that wasn't admitted. Linda will tell Leonard everything he wants to know anytime, about her past assignment or more.

This time, it all happened so fast and they lost crew mates and friends. Linda talks about that, how she may won't feel the effects until a few more days later and the ship; their home for the time was in dry dock for colossal repair. Talks about herself, and perhaps she shouldn't when Leonard is drunk. It just might help, to know she feels it all too.

Linda knows he's drunk, knows there's the chance he's maybe not going to remember parts of this. Aware of his state, but he's alone and he needs a friend; and Linda's concerned for him. So she's hear, and talking. She notices how he was leaning into her, seeking physical contact, and she turns to him. Gives him something more, connection as well, to see in her eyes.

Her hand goes to cup his cheek, hold his face and really look him in the eyes. Thumb brushes slowly, barely skimming over his skin. Her face displays the fullness of her concern, of her care, her best friend since meeting him on the Enterprise. ❝ Hey, hey ⸺ you can let yourself breath, and feel, and you can rest. ❞ She tells him, her lips a part and she means that.

Hopes that she was reaching him, and she has a thought. ❝ He woke up, you saved him and he saved everyone, than died. You weren't there for that, but you were there to save him and he's awake cause of you. ❞ Pure speculation, and she'll admit to that. ❝ You saved your friend, Leonard, that's enough. ❞

Linda continues to hold his face, thumb still moving so slowly over its place. ❝ Talk to me, how I can help you, Chief, I really worried about you and please, tell me what upset you today. ❞ She pleas, and waits and than she listens. Continue to hold his face, or hug him and be his friend. SHE LISTENS WHEN HE TALKS, EVERY WORD, AND DOESN'T LOOK AWAY UNTIL HE WANTS HER TO.

Her hand doesn't stray from his face, and she knows, she knows, she knows. But he's drunk, and this was just friends. That would be okay for Linda. Eventually, they will get up and leave the floor, his apartment. When that happens, Linda presses her thumb gently into skin and rubs again. ❝ Hey, you slipped and this is one hell of a hangover to have, but Leonard? You got through it, in a terrifying time and you did something incredible, and we can talk about that too. ❞

There's a lot of ethics brushed on there and thoughts, she liked their debates and slow day philosophical wanders. Adored those times, and she had so many thoughts about what he had did. There is the god topic, and than seeing how he worked, how he saved hiss friend. A lot to discuss. Later, that's all for later.

❝ You were strong than, and you'll be strong again, and with help if you ask for it, which I am right here, you're my best friend and of course, I'd help you ⸻ speaking of hell hangovers, you're getting water, doctor's orders, and we're gonna go eat now. Doctor's orders too. ❞ Linda's assuming he'll ride the hangover out, instead of curing it medically. Thumb brush one more time, than she's up to get him more water to drink. AFTER THEY'LL GO EAT.

#HELLO I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE SOULD. that's 2575 words just for Mel #ic; linda carter #asks; linda carter #thefleetsfinest #linda carter; thefleetsfinest #verse; linda carter; to heal across the stars (thefleetsfinest) #ships; thefleetsfinest; breathe in and come close and feel this and feel me and feel it all (Len and Lin) #alcoholism cw #relapse cw

[finite-breakpoints]

a little too late (Angstpril 2024, #12)

Julia's been dreading this, as much as she hates herself for it.

"It's not like I'm gonna move across town or anything," Siv had said -- as reassuringly as he's capable of, which isn't always saying much. "But this project feels like it should be its own thing."

That was half a macrocycle ago.

He's not moving across town. Not even leaving the garage, really, just over to the new wing they've just finished. It's a well-designed space; bright and colorful and open, with those giant panes of mirror-glass windows along the wall.

About ten cycles ago, he'd finished moving his equipment over. About half of that crowded workshop now fits comfortably in one corner. A set of tools on the workbench, a few half-finished sketches pinned to drafting tables, several still-packed boxes.

"…So what do you think? Too much?"

He sounds like he's been overthinking this -- it's your shop, what I think about it doesn't matter; you were the one who decided you needed a whole separate space and an apartment to yourself--

Nope. Not going there.

"It's beautiful. Absolutely perfect for you, too." Julia cracks a smile. "Not a drawer in sight, huh?"

"Yori's idea. Should help me keep track of everything a little better." He shrugs nonchalantly, self-aware enough at this point to know better. "Should being the operative word there."

"Wouldn't count on it. You'd lose your own disc if it wasn't attached to you."

"Rude. But yeah, y'know what, I guess that's fair."

"She's not wrong! I've seen you lose datapads while they're still in your hand." Yori sets a box down on the nearest workbench, then raises an eyebrow. "Okay, look, this has been bothering me all cycle. Your hair's up off-center."

"Does it matter?"

"If you want to be seen with me in public, yes."

"…Alright, alright." Siv laughs sheepishly, reaching up to re-adjust the clip holding it back. "Better?"

"Slightly. --Do you want your light-sculpture stuff down here, or up in your office?"

"Uh… good question. I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"Office, then." Yori grins, clearly up to something -- Julia's seen that look enough from Siv to know it means trouble. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Just leave my tools alone--"

"No promises."

"Yori."

"I'm kidding. Don't burn out any circuits over it -- I know better."

"Sure you do." But he doesn't argue with her -- just rolls his eyes as she walks away. "Sorry. What were we talking about?"

"Nothing, really. It's fine." Julia shrugs -- when was the last time they had talked about anything that actually mattered? "It's been weird, not tripping over each other all the time."

"Yeah. A little bit. But we'll get used to it, and it's not like I'll never be around. I'll walk you back -- I'm pretty sure I forgot a datapad in your apartment."

It's just the other side of the garage, but it might as well be the other side of the Grid.

There are worse things than a stray datapad. The empty spaces, where the shelves used to be, that greet them when they walk through the door. The silence at the start and end of every cycle. The simple reality of this apartment being hers, not theirs.

"Heh. Go figure." And sure enough, there it is, sitting abandoned in the chair by the window. Siv picks it up, frowns at the blinking red charge-level light, and tucks it into his bag. "Thanks for the help. I'll see you later."

"No problem. And hey--"

He's halfway across the room now. Quiet exits, as always. "Hm?"

Julia knows this is a bad idea, but some stupid, impulsive part of her can't help it. You don't have to leave -- but it's a little too late for that, now. He's already gone, has been for half a macro -- on to the next adventure.

"…I love you," she says instead. So much. Enough to let you go. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah." He stops in front of the door -- really stops, not one of those five-tick pauses -- and offers her the smallest of smiles. "Love you, too."

He means it, in his way.

And then the door closes behind him.

#finite states prologue #julia #siv #yori #angstpril 2024 #breakpoints archive

[psychosomatist]

Had to go to the ER last night and today I'm barely functioning. I know I'm having heart issues based on my symptoms but the ER was busy and I'm not sure if they took it seriously. My labs looked normal and so did chest xray. Ecg was normal but it was short and happened before the onset of the worst symptoms. In my chart they wrote that I had no chest pain and didn't list most of my symptoms. I'm at risk for cardiac arrest based on having an eating disorder and these symptoms have happened for awhile but never like this. Honestly I'm tired of the messaging that you should call your doctor about shit like this or go to the ER because it doesn't usually make a difference. I was there for 12 hours before talking to a doctor and they didn't monitor my heart rate while I was there or make a note of most of my symptoms. They did send me home with a heart monitoring thing.

I'm afraid though bc I don't really trust the medical establishment in general to listen or help and I also have limited capacity to think straight/organize/advocate for myself. And I was having cardiac symptoms for 12 hours and am at risk and they didn't monitor my heart rate or do a second ecg like they said and I was too out of it to even ask. I'm still having chest and shoulder pain which I usually don't. I don't know if I'm overreacting to things or not. Part of me is like I shouldn't have left res but it's not like they gave a fuck there. I still just saw a doctor once a week who ignored what I told him and wrote the wrong stuff in my chart notes. They didn't have equipment on site to deal with something like that, it's just more likely that someone would be able to give me CPR or see if something happened to me. So I guess that does matter. Ugh.

I hated res but I didn't leave because I wanted to. I left because they couldn't give me accommodations for my autism which meant I was totally unregulated. I tried to advocate for myself and didn't get far. And now I'm fucking burned out. I don't really have anyone I trust to help me in a consistent way with this and I don't want to worry people. The only person I told some of what was happening is Julio last night. I think probably because i knew he wouldn't freak out but would still be kind and also bc we have a line in the sand rn of what kind of role we have in each others life so it felt like I could talk to him about it and not anything else.

Although he has offered to bring me stuff to the house and said he wished he could keep me company last night and has encouraged me to advocate for myself and was going to spend 90 min on the bus both ways on Xmas to come see me in treatment but the bus didn't run. So yeah. It's not like he doesn't care or wouldn't be there.

When people offer to help I don't really believe them and I don't want to worry them.

When it is suggested to me to go to the doctor I've just been like why? They can't do much to help me and I always come away from it feeling like shit about myself.

[bleuhisteria]

Deus Ex Machina|| Aizawa x Reader Chapter 2

In the fractures of our thoughts, lies the birthplace of innovation.

__

That night, as I returned home, my heart weighed heavy with disappointment. I couldn't hold back the flood of tears any longer, so I rushed to my room and collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. The room felt suffocating, my dreams crumbling around me. The sobs threatened to escape, but I fought to keep them at bay, not wanting my parents to see me like this. With a shaky voice, I assured them that the exam had gone fine, even though deep down, I felt defeated.

Exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster, I eventually drifted off to sleep. The night wrapped me in its darkness, and as I woke up, I found myself bathed in the stillness of 2:34 AM. The glow of my phone revealed the late hour, urging me to seek solace elsewhere.

Silently slipping out of bed, I felt a compelling need to escape to the one place that offered solace—my dad's garage. It had become my refuge, a haven of possibilities and creativity.

With a jacket thrown over my shoulders, sweatpants hugging my legs, and cozy slippers on my feet, I tiptoed towards the garage. The flick of a switch illuminated the room, and I was greeted by familiar sights—a space filled with futuristic lights, tools, and scattered equipment. This was my dad's domain, his realm of invention and innovation. But over time, it had become my sanctuary, a place where I could lose myself in my own creations.

In middle school, I used to spend countless afternoons here, tinkering with machines and dreaming up ideas. But as time went on, I grew afraid to touch anything, afraid of failure. Still, on nights like this, the garage was my only comfort.

The floor was littered with boxes of random junk, a testament to years of neglect. I knew I had to be quick; my dad might catch me and freak out again.

Now, where was that gauntlet I had been working on?

I rummaged through piles of failed inventions, determined to find it. Finally, my fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the laser beam gauntlet. It was far from complete, lacking the necessary plasma and structural integrity for optimal performance.

Rolling up my sleeves, I thought of its tinkering and refinement. Time lost its meaning as I immersed myself in my work, making adjustments and reinforcing the delicate gauntlet. Amidst the intricate parts, my mind wandered to my father's suggestion—the support department as an alternative path if I didn't make it into the hero course. I wrestled with indecision, but kept growing frustrated at the thought, still unsure of what I really wanted.

Four hours passed in a blur, and as I put aside the stronger gauntlet, doubts nagged at me. Without the required plasma, my creation remained theoretical, its true power left untapped. A sigh escaped my lips as I surveyed the chaotic mess I had created. If my dad saw this...

The sound of the door handle turning jolted me back to reality. Panic surged through me as I realized I had forgotten to unlock it, and my dad was trying to enter.

"(N/N), are you in there?" his voice called out. "I'm coming in," he announced.

Desperation and urgency coursed through me. "No! Wait!" I scrambled to gather my tools, tossing them into the nearest box. With a swift kick, I hid the box under the table, along with the gauntlet, hoping to conceal my ongoing project.

The door swung open, revealing my dad standing there with a sandwich on a Styrofoam plate in one hand and a mess of bed head in the other. Yawning and scratching his head, he glanced at my old projects.

"Admiring your old stuff again?" he asked, placing the plate on the work table.

I prayed he wouldn't notice the mess I had made, so I awkwardly replied, "Yeah..."

Attempting to slip past him, I aimed to escape to my room.

"Hold on a second," he called out, causing me to freeze in my tracks. "A friend of mine is coming over. They're cleaning up this garage and taking everything away."

Take everything away? 

The thought alarmed me, and I turned back to face my still-groggy dad, desperately seeking an explanation.

"Since nobody's really using this garage, I'm planning to tear it down for a new building project," he explained, a smile on his face. "If you're not using it for your inventions anymore, it should be fine if I take it down, right?"

No! The protest screamed inside my head, but deep down, I knew he was right. I turned away, biting my lip to hold back the flood of emotions.

"Go ahead, Dad... do whatever you want," I said, feeling my own thoughts betraying me. With a heavy heart, I left the garage behind and entered the house. But the warm colors of the interior felt cold, reminding me of what I was losing. I walked on the wooden floors, my steps quickening into a sprint as I headed toward my room. It was the only sanctuary I had left, now being torn down by the very person who had created it for me.

Curling up into a ball beside my bed, I felt a mixture of frustration and sadness. The door to my room remained locked, isolating me from the outside world.

Days passed, and I found myself trapped within the confines of my room. My mom grew increasingly worried, knocking on my door every day and leaving a tray of food outside. Yet, each night, I could only manage a few bites.

Occasionally, I would wake up in the afternoon to the sound of my parents' hushed voices, engaged in whispered arguments. Although I couldn't make out the details, the tension hung heavy in the air.

One morning, as my throat parched and dry, I summoned the strength to venture outside my room. But before I could reach the kitchen, faint voices reached my ears—a whispered argument.

"I told you to communicate better! Keeping things from her only makes matters worse!" I heard my mother scolding my dad.

He released a deep, low sigh. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I can't just let the garage stay if she's still using it without telling me. How am I supposed to understand what she's thinking if she keeps everything to herself?" he defended himself.

Leaning against the wall, I listened intently as my mom scoffed in response.

"You should have known this would upset her," she sighed with exasperation. "Go talk to her. Now," she ordered, her voice carrying a tone of firmness and disapproval.

In a panic, I rushed back to my room and locked the door, my back pressed against it as I slid to the floor. A glimmer of hope flickered within me. Could it be that the garage wouldn't be demolished after all?

A knock at my door startled me, and I heard my dad's voice from the other side, gentle and soft, "(Y/N), can I come in?"

I covered my mouth instinctively, contemplating whether I was ready to let him in. I stood up from the floor and sighed quietly as I unlocked the door, opening it, while I couldn't bring myself to look at his face, I still managed to mutter for him to come in.

The door was left ajar as he stepped inside my room, I sat down on the bed, my back turned to him, and my eyes fixated on the floor. In that moment, I noticed how disheveled my hair was when I caught a glimpse of it in a hand mirror that had fallen from my nightstand.

I felt the weight of the mattress shift as my dad sat down beside me. The room was filled with silence as we both waited for him to find the right words to say.

"I know you're upset about the garage," He began, "I'm not..." he sighed, "I'm not tearing it down to spite you sweetie, it was honestly meant to be a surprise, but I wanted to build a bigger one for you." he said, his tone shifting into a more relaxed one as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I know you've been using it still, you don't have to hide the fact that you're still working on things there from me, I wholeheartedly support you."

Tears began to well up in my eyes, I made a promise not to have anything to do with machines and robotics and yet-- I grit my teeth, I couldn't stop myself from going there whenever I'm upset and just start working on things that I threw away. I'm just terrible...

My lips quivered, I felt a lump in my throat as I tried to speak, "I-I'm not... I don't want to..." I sobbed.

"Hush now, you shouldn't keep yourself from doing the things you love just because of one accident..." My dad stated, his comforting voice followed by pulling me into an embrace, causing me to cry in his chest.

I started bawling, heavy tears flowed from my cheeks as I released all of the pent up emotions I've been feeling the last couple of days.

Eventually... things calmed down, my dad stood up from my bed and offered me something...

"Get yourself cleaned up and meet me in the garage in a few minutes, there's someone I'd like you to meet." He said with a gentle smile on his face, a little nervous that I assumed was from the idea I would reject him.

I nodded, nudging him to leave my room while I got ready.

__

(Y/N)'s father walked down the stairs to the garage, relieved that he had finally spoken with her and cleared the air between them. It had been weighing on his mind for days, and he couldn't ignore his wife's persistent requests to have a conversation with their daughter.

Communication had always been challenging with (Y/N), especially after the incident at her middle school. He let out a sigh, remembering the difficulties they had faced and the strain it had put on their relationship. But today felt like a step forward.

As he entered the garage, he noticed the sound of shuffling boxes. His friend, Higari, was there. He was a short man with large hands, it was the biggest part of his body aside from his wide mouth, he dressed in a loose shirt and shorts. His orange hair partially covered his eyes as he focused on picking up something from one of the boxes. (F/N) could see a faint blue hue, making his eyes widen with realization. It was the gauntlet. He had seen (Y/N) working on it a few nights ago through the security camera footage. He occasionally checked in on her activities to make sure she was doing well.

"Higari," He called out, catching his attention. "Oh, (F/N), it's just you," he replied, turning his gaze back to the gauntlet.

Curious, (F/N) approached him. "What do you have there?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. He wanted to hear the man's thoughts on it as well.

As he closely examined the gauntlet, Higari looked to be pondering for a moment before responding, "I'm not entirely sure. It seems to be some kind of gauntlet designed to shoot energy, I suppose. It looks quite new, but there's definitely something missing. Without that crucial element, it won't function properly." He carefully placed the gauntlet back on the table, emphasizing its current state of being unusable.

(F/N)'s head tilted slightly, intrigued. "Oh, really? And what might it be missing?" he inquired, eager to hear Higari's perspective.

Higari let out a huff and shrugged his shoulders. "How would I know? I didn't make this thing," he replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

(F/N) let out a chuckle as he moved on to a different device...

__

I finished getting ready and made my way down the stairs to the garage, curious about the commotion I could hear from inside. There was laughter from my dad, accompanied by a voice that sounded annoyed and less than pleased. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob, worried about facing whoever was with my dad. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

"─Too short, Higari!"

"Fucking-- Give it back, (F/N)!"

To my surprise, my dad and a man with orange hair were engaged in a playful exchange, my dad clearly enjoying himself. I hesitated, considering closing the door quietly and retreating back inside, hoping to erase the image from my mind. However, something made me pause. I realized who the man was—it was none other than the renowned excavation hero, Power Loader.

In a moment of frustration, Power Loader threw a punch at my dad's stomach, causing him to double over. Seizing the opportunity, Power Loader snatched the object he had been reaching for.

I watched by the doorway, my eyes sparkled watching the gracious punch thrown at my own father by a hero I greatly looked up to. It was almost... inspirational.

"You didn't have to do that, Higari..." My dad held his stomach in pain, still keeled over before he turned his head, noticing my presence at the doorway.

He quickly hid his pain and stood up straight, calling my name, "(Y/N)! Come here, I want you to meet someone." he said with a smile, walking over to me, placing a hand on my back to guide me to the man, ensuring I wouldn't run away.

"I-I know who he is, Dad," I said, looking directly at the man. "The excavation hero, P-Power Loader." I stuttered at the mention of his name.

I admired him greatly among heroes. He was a prodigy and a licensed developer who made hero support items.

Power Loader placed a hand on his chin, studying me intently. "Eh? You're (Y/N), huh? You look different from what I imagined, but aside from that..." He waved his giant hand dismissively before reaching for something on the table and showing it to me. "What's this?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

My eyes widened as I saw the gauntlet in his hands, and I instinctively reached out to grab it. "Th-this is nothing—" I began, but I cut myself off, realizing the incredible opportunity I had to speak with an inventor I deeply admired. I looked up at my dad, who gave me a smile and a nod of approval. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my courage once more.

"Th-this was originally meant to be a laser gun, but I... I ended up creating a gauntlet instead," I explained, my voice gaining confidence. "Its purpose is to harness energy from a plasma source and generate a beam within the palm before shooting it. However, I'm missing the necessary plasma to make it operational. Since I didn't design it with a specific quirk in mind, I worry it may not be an effective hero support item..." I finished my explanation, feeling a tinge of self-doubt and selfishness regarding my initial intentions for the invention.

Power Loader crossed his arms, studying me with a serious expression. "Yeah, it'd be difficult to acquire plasma without a license. But let me tell you something, kid. The best inventors don't design things with specific quirks in mind. They push the boundaries of what's possible and create something entirely new. Don't limit your creativity by conforming to expectations. Make whatever you want to make," he said firmly, his words carrying a mix of disappointment and wisdom.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide with admiration and gratitude. His words struck a chord within me, resonating with my desire to explore and innovate. "Y-yes, sir," I responded, caught up in the moment. I instinctively bowed, a gesture of respect I always used in the presence of someone I held in high regard. As I raised my head, I blushed, realizing the action may have seemed overly formal.

He let out a hearty chuckle and turned to my dad, a smile on his face. "Hey, (F/N), I like this kid," he exclaimed, expressing his approval. Then, he shifted his attention back to me. "You're going to be in the support department at UA, aren't you?" he asked, his tone expectant.

Caught off guard by the question, I hesitated for a moment. I hadn't fully made up my mind yet. "Well, I haven't... really thought about it," I admitted, averting my gaze from the hero.

Power Loader's expression turned more serious. "Hm? Well, you should. Starting this year, I'll be teaching the students in the support department, and I expect to see you there," he declared firmly, his voice carrying a sense of determination. It felt as if he not only wanted me there, but he believed in my potential.

My heart fluttered at his words, realizing the significance of his expectation. I couldn't help but nod, feeling a surge of determination. "Yes, sir!" I responded with newfound confidence, my voice stronger and more resolute than before. The sudden shift in my tone caught both my dad and Power Loader off guard, and I quickly covered my mouth in embarrassment.

Feeling overwhelmed, I hastily placed the gauntlet back on the table and excused myself. I rushed out of the garage, my face flushed with embarrassment, eager to escape the situation and collect my thoughts in private.

__

"(F/N), you were right to introduce her to me. I can see the potential," Power Loader remarked, his gaze drifting toward the open door of the garage.

A laugh escaped (Y/N)'s father, breaking the momentary silence. "It's a miracle you managed to convince her. She's been hesitant to share her inventions with anyone for quite some time," he commented, a hint of pride in his voice.

Power Loader tilted his head back, curiosity evident in his eyes. "From that incident you mentioned?" he inquired, his tone filled with empathy.

(F/N) responded with a brief hum and a nod, the weight of the memory palpable in their silence. The impact of that incident had left a lasting mark on their family, casting shadows on (Y/N)'s confidence and trust...

#aizawa sensei #yamada hizashi #hizashi yamada #eraserhead #present mic #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shouta #my hero acedamia #my hero academy oc #my hero x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia aizawa #boku no hero acedamia #boku no hero acadamia oc #boku no hero manga #aizawa x reader #aizawa fluff #aizawa headcanons #shouta x you #aizawa #shouta aizawa headcanons #eri #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta x reader

[b4kuch1n]

more tootle doodle ft. archetypes and this-literal-child-has-not-taken-a-single-nap-for-three-days-straight

#psychonauts #razputin aquato #ft. hollis forsythe and the interns #especially adam joseph gette my beloved #very light spoilers in pic! but More Spoilers In Tags!! #raz ran away to camp then tagged along to HQ then crashed for a whole day then found out nothing happens for a year #he likes. walks around the motherlobe the whole time like huh another quiet day! cool! #sasha voice welcome to adulthood razputin. nothing happens for months and then seven things happen at once #milla voice oh honey. darling #also I think abt the fact that the aquatos are staying in the questionable area a Lot #like. hollis probably invites them to a dorm section too bc 1/Containment 2/Safety 3/Secure #but they wouldn't like to keep their equipments and stuff so far away from them #(otto absolutely pawns off so much experimental fireproof fabrics on them tho) #(man. otto would have a field day with these poor folks) #(well! first thing dion would do would be to kick otto in the crotch by accident and then claims he means it so. its mutual) #but the idea of the road across HQ is now just a normal tourist road again is Really funny to me #psychics what psychics? we're here for the water circus #thinks abt raz taking sabbaticals to tour with his family once they get invited places. ah...... #also I have Thots abt raz's in game archetype #thots being (screams into a paper bag for ten continuous minutes) #like! I am definitely making shit up from close to nothing! but just #the idea of his main archetype's biggest characteristic being Flat #listen. I am normal. I am not overthinking this to a concerning degree. I am n #just!! there are WAYS you can take that yknow!! there are ROADS you can GO DOWN #Im shutting up now thats all I'll say for now. work to do translations to get to #sleep to get #have a good night guys! forget what I said dont think abt it dont th

[barnesbabee]

Let's Have Some Fun || OT8

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ 8 - ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ

Summary: A scenario in which you and your friends are very comfortable with each other. Maybe too comfortable.

Pairing: ot8 x female!reader

Words: as many as I fucking want, what are you gonna do about it

Genre: Smut

⚠ degradation, alcohol ⚠

You ran through the dark alley, avoiding all of the crashed bottles and needles on the ground, cursing your friends after every step, for choosing an abandoned building as the preferred hanging out spot. Your sneakers were soaked, since you managed to step on every puddle, splashing the water around. Your hood covered your head, although it was raining so heavily that it failed its purpose. The second you spotted the old building you sprinted. With one of the nine keys in hand, you unlocked the lock and ran inside. It was probably illegal to lock the building and use it as if it was yours, but something told you a building in the middle of the area known for murder, drugs, and illegalities wouldn't be sold or used any time soon.

The building was old, but still in a good state, unlike most buildings surrounding it, which looked one stormy day away from collapsing. The vines and moss that climbed through the now patched-up windows reminded you of those dystopian video games of abandoned cities. You could hear the laughter and conversation above you, on the 4th floor, to be precise. You walked up the stairs, admiring the graffiti decorating each wall. In the beginning, the walls were covered in a bunch of ugly letters, but Yunho and Mingi decided to give it a new look, and every floor had a theme. The first floor was left untouched as if pretending that there had been no one using the building in the past years, the second floor was decorated in bright colours, Mingi said he wanted to give it an LSD hallucination vibe. You went up the 2nd flight of stairs, into the 3rd floor, which was painted in a Tim Burton vibe. Thin, flimsy characters with long limbs and big eyes decorated the walls. There was a big, patched up bleeding heart painted in one of them, done by Jongho not long after Yunho had started to teach him how to work with spray paint, and the floor resembled a chess board. The 3rd floor was usually where they kept stuff, like the mattresses they slept in sometimes, their bikes, the cans they used and a huge trash bin.

The chatter and laughter became louder, as you went up the last flight of stairs. The 4th floor was the second to last, but everyone agreed that four flights of stairs were as far as they were willing to go up. This floor was decorated by everyone. Each of you had gotten to decorate a little bit, so the walls looked like abstract, messy art, and you kind of loved it.

"There's our favourite!" Hongjoong yelled, wavering his beer in the air.

You smiled and greeted everyone in the room.

You had all worked hard to preserve your space, always keeping it clean and organized. There was a drawer that Seonghwa had found on the street one day, and decided to bring it in. He and Jongho restored it and you now used it to store spare clothes and blankets, since some of you went there directly from work, or for the occasion at hand: arriving soaking wet from the rain.

There was also a makeshift kitchen, with a freezer that (obviously) didn't work, so you'd put bags of ice to keep the beers cold, two portable counters that San and Wooyoung had stolen from a camping equipment store, and a big shelf you used to store food. You also had a foldable table and a bunch of chairs, that you always ignored since you liked to snuggle together on the floor.

Whenever it got dark, you'd power the fairy lights around the room, that Hongjoong had installed, with the portable generator Yunho had so generously provided.

That place was a second home to you and your friends, you spent most of your time there since you could make all the noise you wanted and you were far away from everyone, so it felt like your own world.

"You got here late, something happened?" Mingi asked as he stood up to grab you a beer.

"No, just" You started, as you struggled to take off your wet hoodie "fell asleep."

Mingi chuckled. He set down your beer on top of the drawer and helped you peel the item of clothing off.

"So you'd rather sleep than be with us? Dang..." San mocked.

"Don't you start with me young man, I ran through heavy rain to be here with you all."

You stripped from your shirt and removed your bra, as you looked for a new shirt to wear.

"Nice tits." Hongjoong said.

You looked at him disapprovingly, and he winked in response. You put on the shirt quickly and grabbed a blanket, since it was getting cold.

"Smells like Seonghwa..." you thought to yourself.

You took a seat on the floor, between Jongho and Yeosang, and snuggled against the youngest with your blanket.

"What are we doing then?" You asked as you finally got comfortable.

"Seonghwa was telling us this story about a girl he fucked last night." Jongho explained.

"Come on guys, don't say those words, you know he doesn't like it, he fornicated with a young woman." You mocked.

Everyone laughed historically, as Seonghwa played with his lip ring out of annoyance. The male, although tall, tatted up, and scary looking, was relatively vanilla compared to the rest of the group, and he would constantly get shit for it.

"You know I'm getting you back for that shit, right?" Seonghwa threatened.

You blew him a kiss and winked, which he smiled at.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Seonghwa said, shooting you a dirty look "everything was going well, she was kinda weird but she knew what she was doing, then she started riding me and out of nowhere she goes 'can I take a shit?' and I was like sure, it was a bit of a tmi, but I said 'ok bathroom is right outside' and then she goes 'no, on you' and I swear my dick went soft that fucking second."

The room roared with laughter as Seonghwa buried his face in his hands.

"Oh- Oh my God, and what happened after!?" Yeosang said, almost out of breath from laughing.

"Well, I tried saying no and moving on so we could finish but I couldn't stop thinking about her wanting to take a shit on me so I just told her to leave. She was really mad but ain't no fucking way I could keep going."

"People have shit kinks? That's so fucking weird." Wooyoung commented as he took a sip from his beer.

"You'd say that, of all people." You joked.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!?"

You laughed at the pouting Wooyoung.

"I know you have weird kinks! It's written all over your face.

Wooyoung had his arms crossed, exposing his tattooed forearms, and one eyebrow raised, as he was sure you couldn't (and wouldn't) name anything.

Wooyoung had his arms crossed, exposing his tattooed forearms, and one eyebrow raised, as he was sure you couldn't (and wouldn't) name anything.

"Public humiliation, voyeurism, degradation-"

"Okay! Fine, we get it, no need to keep going... Weirdo..." He muttered the last part, as he sat back down with red cheeks.

"How the fuck can you even tell!?" Yunho asked, perplexed.

"Cause I have eyes? You, men, are terrible at noticing things, but it's pretty obvious.

"Go on..." Yunho said, curious.

"Mingi has a thing for choking."

"I do not!" He defended immediately, in a whiny voice.

"Every time any of them touches your neck you whine and become uncomfortable, and I know it's not because you don't like kinship."

"Do me next!" Hongjoong chimed in before Mingi could react to what you had said.

"You have a thing for being the one in power, that's for sure, and every time I wear a choker you always stare at my neck, so you definitely own a couple leashes that aren't for the doggy."

"I'm impressed..." He replied.

"You can't guess mine 'cause I have none." Jongho said.

"But I do know what turns you on though..."

Jongho looked at you with a questioning look, as if asking 'do you though?'.

"This, is what turns you on."

You got on your knees beside him, and licked a long stripe along his neck, as you lightly held the other side with your hand. Jongho pushed you away slightly, as if he didn't want you to stop, but knew you shouldn't continue. His eyes were wide, and his face was flushed as he looked at you.

"W-what was that for!?"

You shrugged and got back to your place.

"Proving a point, I guess."

The rest of the boys were loving to witness you make every one of them blush. These tall men, full of piercings, ripped and intimidating blushed as easily as a high schooler saying hi to their crush.

San downed the rest of his beer, a drop of the liquid trailed down his neck, and you shamelessly watched. He took the empty beer bottle and put it on the center of the circle you had formed.

"Since you know us all so well, let's have some fun. I'm gonna spin this bottle, and whoever it lands on, you have to make them moan."

"Here!? In front of everyone!?" You exclaimed.

"Why? What's wrong? Planning on doing something we can't see?" Hongjoong teased and wiggled his eyebrows.

You pressed your tongue against your cheek and smirked, as you went up to the bottle to spin it, as a petty response to what he said.

The glass bottle made a scratching sound as it spun on the ground. Everyone eyed the item nervously, most secretly wishing for it to land on them. And eventually, it stopped.

"Yunho."

He was the first victim, which was hard for you. You weren't sure what he liked, he had so many sides to him, like a little mystery box. You never knew what to expect from him. There were days you were sure he would never hurt a fly and days where you swore he was capable of committing murder.

You stood up, slowly, and walked over to him. You straddled his waist, and Yunho had to suppress a groan as you sat down, your crotch on top of his, applying pressure in his lower area. His hands gripped your waist, almost as if it was an instinct. Yunho looked into your eyes, but his usual kind, doe eyes were gone, and instead were these curious, lustful ones.

"Are you gonna do this foreal?"

"Well, we do have an audience, wouldn't want to disappoint them."

You noticed the way he pursed his lips when you sat down, so you did an experimental hip role, and he did it once more. You smirked, you already had him down.

Your hand played with his neck, trailing small, light shapes, that sent a shiver down Yunho's spine. Maybe it was the beers you had acting up, or just that Yunho was extremely attractive, but you didn't hesitate in kissing him, and neither did he hesitate in kissing back. Cheers sounded around the room as the rest of the boys watched the heated makeout session. Without thinking, and simply following what his body wanted, Yunho's hands drifted from your waist to your ass, pulling you closer to him, and applying pressure on his growing erection. He had completely forgotten why you were even doing that, and let a moan escape his lips. Although muffled by your own mouth, everyone heard it.

You pulled away and caressed his cheek.

"You lost, darling."

The man smirked, glancing down at where your crotches were touching.

"Did I thought?"

You slapped his chest and got off his lap.

"Yunho you're weak as shit." San mocked.

"Like you could do any better, she's good man!" The other male defended.

"Hell yeah, I can. I could go all the way without making a single sound."

"Right, then prove it."

San's beer made a clinking sound as he set it on the ground. The male leaned back and tapped his thigh as he looked at you.

"No way! The deal was one person."

"Oh come on! It was getting interesting, I couldn't wait to see San's stupid face after you'd make him eat shit!" Mingi whined.

"Fuck no, I'm not taking rounds on each one of you."

"If you do it and he doesn't moan you don't have to buy beer for 2 months."

Your ears perked up at Hongjoong's offer. Each week someone bought the beer. It was rotative, but you all drank like you were thirsty men stuck on a desert seeing water for the first time.

"Fine."

The men cheered, as you sat on San's lap.

"Are you ready to lose?" You asked.

San licked his lips, showing off his tongue piercing for a second. The male grabbed your ass and brought you forward harshly, causing you to put your hands on his defined chest, out of instinct.

"Do your best, princess." He whispered in your ear.

You knew San liked it rough, so you weren't exactly surprised, but you were surprised to find just how good he was. His lips were soft and his tongue worked in ways that made you crave for more. San's hands cheekily slid in your joggers and underwear, grabbing your naked ass, that became slightly exposed to the remaining group. Which didn't bother you at all, you had seen each other naked several times. That did get a small moan out of you, and you could feel the little shit smiling into the kiss. You felt very observed at that point, and it turned up the excitement of the current scenario.

You rolled your hips against his, and you could feel his hard cock already. Your hand cheekily trailed down from his chest, down to his abs, and finally, it stopped on the button of his jeans. You undid the button and the zipper with one hand, no problem. You went slowly, rubbing him through his boxers, trying to get a reaction, but to no avail.

San pulled away from the kiss.

"You're gonna have to try a little harder princess."

You smirked at his challenge and pulled yourself off of his lap. You got on your knees in front of him and bent over, your ass in display for the other men to see. You pulled his fully hardened cock out of the confinement of San's boxers. You had forgotten he had gotten it pierced not long ago, it was an excruciating couple of weeks without sex for San. Your finger ran along with his Jacob's Ladder piercing, admiring the shiny accessories.

"You know, I've heard it feels great in your mouth."

San winked at you.

"Well, let's test that theory."

You started slow, swirling your tongue around his tip and sucking on it. San made a makeshift ponytail with your hair and held it, so he could properly see everything you were doing. You slowly took more and more of him, until your nose touched his pubic bone. You then bobbed your head up and down, somehow managing to take all of his length. If San were to admit, he was trying his hardest to remain silent, because you were doing a very good job, although he wouldn't admit it. You added your hand to the movement, tightening it around his cock, but to no avail.

"Hm, not working as you hoped princess? Why don't you ride me, see if it works?"

"You're gonna fuck her in front of us!?"

You stood up, and wiped the corners of your mouth, before turning to face the other men. You stripped down, so your bottom half was fully on display.

"Isn't that what you were hoping for?"

The men watched in awe, some cheering, some shifting uncomfortably trying to hide their erections, as you sunk down on San's cock. He gripped your hips, and helped you bounce on him. It was extremely hard for him to maintain quiet, but he was going to pull through. San pursed his lips harshly and rested his forehead on your back.

You, however, had no play in the 'no moaning' part, and couldn't hold back. The way his piercings rubbed against your walls were giving you a new sensation you knew you'd be back for. San chuckled in your ear.

"So much talk... Shaming Wooyoung, but you're enjoying how they're looking at you, you're loving this."

"S-shit, I never said I didn't."

San slapped your ass, causing you to whine.

"Little slut."

After a couple more seconds, San couldn't take the slow pace anymore. He picked you up, and bent you over on the floor, so he'd have all control. The man gripped your wrists and held them together, behind your back, so your face was pressed against the floor.

He snapped his hips against yours at an impossible pace, one you had never experienced before. You were full-on moaning at every thrust at this point, and you could point out a couple of them touching themselves to the view.

"You like it? You like to see them watching, such a pretty little whore for me."

San could tell, by the way you clenched around his cock, how much you enjoyed being talked down to. He bent over so he could whisper in your ear.

"Come on princess, cum for me, cum on my cock in front of all your friends."

It was impressive how he could read you, and manipulate you like putty in his hands. You gave in and came, with a cry for his name. San came right after, and this time he couldn't help the loud moan at the phenomenal sesation.

"Shit, good sex and free beer for two months? I won the lottery."

Your legs were a little wobbly as you stood up, but San helped you get dressed.

"Well that was hot." Yunho said, from the other side of the room.

"I hope you enjoyed the show 'cause I'm not having sex in front of you any time soon."

You were about to go back to your place next to Jongho and Yeosang when San grabbed your wrist. You looked down at him and he was pouting cutely, as if he hadn't just railed the shit out of you.

"Fine."

You sat on his lap, and he wrapped his arms around you, and rested his chin on your shoulder.

Hongjoong leaned over to Seonghwa.

"That wasn't their last time, for sure."

#ateez #ateez smut #kpop #kpop smut #seonghwa #san #ateez scenario #ateez scenarios #yunho #seonghwa smut #san smut #jongho smut #choi san x reader #kinktober #choi san smut #san x reader #ateez san smut #ateez kinktober #kinktober ateez #ateez reactions #ateez reaction #ateez yunho #ateez au #ateez hongjoong #jongho #ateez reader insert #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut fic

[princessamericachavez]

people who still say vex died from greed and deserved to suffer those consequences 😔 i have to say i’m not excited to revisit the greed aspect of the sunken tomb + broomgate again with tlovm. i wish the fandom/show used a word other than greedy to describe vex because i think the knee jerk “sin” aspect of the word keeps people from thinking about how much depth there is to that part of vex’s character, esp. the protector/defense against being taken advantage of aspect.

It's funny because:

1) Vex's "greed" is obviously the result of her upbringing and she pretty much spells that in-game and everybody knows it and while it's played for laughs, she never even acted that "greedy" in the first place? She just: made sure they all got properly paid, made sure to collect treasure after missions, tried to haggle to get better prices, kept an eye on the party's joined finances to make sure nobody went too far over-budget so they could buy important stuff like weapons and healing potions and what not... She was the reason VM was so well stablished and prepared all the time. You know how many of them would've died if it wasn't for the amount of healing potions they were able to acquire?

2) I never understood connecting the sunken tomb to her greed in the first place? I mean, that armor was the reason they were there to begin with. And Vex is extremely goal-oriented. And, yes, she wanted to see if she could get more treasure for the party (ALL THE TREASURE SHE FOUND WAS FOR THE PARTY SHE NEVER HOARDED RICHES FOR HERSELF) but she had restrain. She waited. She checked for traps. She knew what she was doing. It was someone else's greed —admittedly carelessness and just 'fuck it' as Percy himself admitted— that set the trap off before she could check it out. 'Oh, but she wouldn't have been there if she wasn't greedy!' That tomb was the reason they were there to begin with! Is she not allowed to complete the mission? Vex and Vax were the two better equipped to check for traps and Vax was busy elsewhere. Vex was being an important and useful part of the team in order to accomplish the thing they set precisely to do.

Anywayyyyyyyyy people were just looking for things to be mad about because they can't FATHOM that a 'girl' gets to be so cool and sexy and fun and useful... no no, she needs to have some fatal flaw that they can attack her with because there's no way that Laura is just so damn good at D&D and at acting and roleplaying and there's no way Vex is allowed to have flaws and vulnerabilities that make sense for her as a character without being demonized for it by the narrative. NOpe.

Anyway.

I appreciate that TLOVM has shown parts of this side of Vex (her running away with the bag of treasure in ep2 was hilarious honestly) but mostly treating it with respect —showing how she worries about the price of things, and tries to haggle, but she is still willing to put good money on the things they need to succeed and protect each other and does not hesitate to use those assets to protect the party (be it save Scanlan or give Kiki an elixir or buy as much holy oil as Gilmore can get even if it would've probably been super expensive).

I am extremely excited to get into the Chroma Conclave arc. I hope we get flashbacks to the twins's backstory (both in Bythoren, Syngorn and growing up in the streets after they ran away) so new —and, old— audiences can truly understand where this part of Vex'ahlia comes form.

#vex'ahlia #critical role #tlovm spoilers #cr spoilers #c1 spoilers #cr1 spoilers #sofia's nonsense

[tomhardyspinkyfinger]

The Gym

Masterlist

A/N: Request for @druukkari <3 thanks for the request! I loved this idea and really ran with tommy as a high schooler. I really liked the idea of them being in hs so I went with that. Hopefully you enjoy it!

Request:

i’ve been obsessed w tommy conlon lately so could u do something where tommy and the reader were friends in hs and they’re getting really close again after he came back but he still keeps his walls up and won’t even touch the reader bc although he knows he would never hurt u he’s still scared to give u the wrong idea or hurt u and u comfort him, basically saying u know he would never hurt u and ur not scared of him and stuff?? 🥺💗

I moved through the gym handing out water bottles and fresh towels to the giant gym buffs who attacked their respective punching bags.

Most teenage girls went shopping after school or talked on the phone with their friends.

I worked in my dads gym.

My mom had died when I was young, so my fathers grand gesture at bonding with me was forcing me to work after school and on weekends. He was overly protective and extremely hard headed towards everything, especially dating. My father never taught me much, just how to throw a mean right hook and that any creature with a penis wasn't worth my time.

His constant shielding worked on me when I was younger, but now that I'm older I see boys differently.

Especially Tommy Conlon

His father Paddy came in a few weeks back and signed his sons Tommy and Brendan for a membership to train. He and my dad were old friends so my dad was elated to have them join, even if they were half the age of most of the guys in here. Be that as it may, Tommy and Brendan had more skill than nearly everyone who trained in the gym.

I had seen the brothers around school a couple of times, both of them in the grades above me. I noticed Tommy more so. He had a few tattoos, and I was smitten. No one our age had any legitimate tattoos, just stick-n-pokes, including me which resulted in a two hour lecture and five week grounding from my father.

Both brothers sparring in the ring brings me back to now, where I leaned on the counter out of view with my head in my hands, admiring Tommy's serious fighting face. I continued on day dreaming until the match was over and continued on with my day. The boys stayed well into the night, their father would drive home without them and instruct them to run home for a post workout. Brendan always left right as they finished but Tommy would stay, getting in some extra practice after closing.

Before Brendan left however, he leaned over the counter I sat at and spoke under his voice.

"Just a heads up, my brother has it bad for you. I'm sick of him being such a jackass so how about you give him a shot? I see you watch him when we fight." Brendan said with a smile. I felt my face flush and I looked away. Brendan tapped his fingers on the gym and left without another word.

I turned and paled at Tommy watching from not to far, definitely having heard what his brother confessed. He rushed off to the locker room and I followed quietly. Dad was in the back office filing paperwork so I knew he wouldn't see me follow Tommy in.

I entered to see Tommy quickly removing his hand bandages, trying to fill his bag with his equipment to leave as soon as possible.

"Tommy?" I spoke, my voice unsure of itself.

He glanced up at me and kept packing up his stuff.

"Brendan has no business telling you any of that." He muttered.

"Well what if I have it bad for you too? What then?" I questioned, feeling bold. He halted in his movements and looked at me, his heavy breathing drawing my attention to his bare chest.

"Do you?" He questioned, approaching me now. I looked up in his eyes and shrugged.

"Depends on if your brother was telling the truth or not."

"He was."

"Then yes Tommy, I have it bad for you." I whispered now. He brought our lips together suddenly and I practically moaned. I had dreamed about my first kiss for ages and none of it could live up to how soft his plump lips felt against mine.

Our relationship flourished from there. A simple kiss in a sweat scented locker room. We had to keep it a secret obviously, my father was a hard ass and his father hated distractions. We would have lunch together at school, occasionally skip class and have official dates. Our favorite time spent together was after hours at the gym. The boys stayed after hours every night given Paddy's friendship with my father. I would go into the locker room after I was sure my father had retired to his office. I always had Tommy leave out the front, and I would let him in through the fire exit in the locker room.

We would mainly use this time to kiss, being hormonal and all, but most of all we talked about our days and how much we loved each other.

One day I was antsy to get my hands on him, so when no one was looking I walked by and muttered in his ear:

"Locker room, 15 minutes."

The locker room was empty at this time of day and when Tommy entered I practically pounced on him. His hands always stayed on my waist and never ventured down further every time we kissed. It was sweet but I was starting to wonder if we were ever going to move further. While these thoughts consumed my mind along with the pleasurable feeling of his lips, I failed to notice the sound of my fathers heavy footed walk enter the room.

"What in gods name are you doing!" He yelled out. I jumped back from Tommy, shock lacing my features.

"D-dad.. it's not what it looks like!" I attempted to salvage what I knew was the biggest shit show I had ever been apart of. Tommy was pale, eyes wide.

"It looks like my daughter is whoring herself out right under my nose!" He screamed. I flinched at his use of the word whore.

"Dad it isn't like that we're dating and in love!" I yelled back, tears brimming my eyes. His nostrils were flared and he grabbed my bicep, forcefully removing me from the locker room. He rushed us out to where Paddy was helping Brendan warm up. Tommy was following suit.

"Paddy, your son was defiling my young daughter in the locker room! Pack up your shit and get out! I don't want to see the three of you anywhere near this gym again!" My father yelled. Paddy looked over at Tommy, rage in his eyes as Tommy looked at the floor. I struggled in my fathers grip and wiped my tears aggressively.

"No! He didn't! We're together and I love him!" I shouted, trying to stop this hellish event. Other gym patrons watched on and I felt myself starting to panic at the weight of the situation.

"You heard me Conlon. You and your sons out. Now." My father had the final word, he dragged me up to his office as they left the gym. I locked eyes with Tommy one more time and he just looked down, leaving the gym.

That was the last time I ever saw Tommy Conlon.

Until he showed up to my gym 15 years later.

I perked up from my desk as I heard a distant conversation come from the receptionist I had at the front desk which was weird since we officially closed ten minutes ago and the gym was practically deserted. I usually kept my office door open for anyone to enter, unlike my father had once done.

"Does Fitzy still own this?" I listened to the familiar voice ask.

"Nah, he died a few years back, his daughter owns it now." James, the receptionist replied.

"Is she here?" The man asked. I exited my office and immediately locked eyes with Tommy Conlon. He was bigger, yet he looked unhealthy. His eye bags were dark and he seemed sick. He hadn't changed much, he was just much more built.

"She's right here where she's always been. Where the hell have you been?" I asked, arms crossed. His eyes raked my body before he met mine again.

"Can we talk?" He asked. I nodded and began to lead him to my office after telling James to go home. Tommy followed silently and shut the door after himself after we entered the office.

"Go ahead and talk, Conlon." I spoke, placing myself in the chair and crossing my legs. He sat at the chair across from me and itched his ear.

"I'm sorry I left Y/N." He muttered. I laughed bitterly.

"Means a lot Tommy, you're just fifteen years too late." I said, irritation lacing my voice.

"That day Fitzy caught us my father took us home and beat me to a pulp. When my mother came home she patched me up and told me to pack a bag. We left together and never looked back. She only lasted a few years before she died." Tommy explained, a distant look in his eyes. I let out a sigh and sat up, placing my hands on the desk.

"Why didn't you ever tell me how he treated you? Or call me and explain this to me when it happened?" I questioned. He shrugged and looked away. I stood and approached his chair, putting both hands on his face and rubbing his soft cheeks.

"What happened to you, Tommy?" I muttered, feeling my throat close up at the broken man who sat before me, a man I once loved. A single tear fell down his face and I wiped it away with my thumb.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" I questioned.

"With my old man." He responded, avoiding eye contact with me still. I could tell he had changed and getting through to him would be difficult, but I was up for the challenge.

"No, you're crashing at mine now. C'mon." I grabbed my keys and bag and led Tommy out after locking up.

"Thank you Y/N." Tommy spoke before we got into my car. I smiled gently.

"You still owe me for skipping town, but you can make it up to me somehow."

#tommy conlon x reader #tommy conlon #warrior #tom hardy x you #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy #tom hardy warrior #tommy conlon warrior #reader insert #angst #fluff