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spicyclover · 4 days

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No one can hurt you

Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2. WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE

DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.

You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.

“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass.

“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused.

“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.

“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically.

“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”

“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard.

“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine.

“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.

“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar.

“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.

“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.

“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.

“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”

“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.

“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation.

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.

You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.

“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes.

“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.

“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.

“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently.

“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.

Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back.

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar.

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos.

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away.

“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.

“Nothing.”

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.

“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible.

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out.

You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights.

The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite.

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off.

Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude.

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself.

You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go.

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful.

Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day?

Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.

The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.

Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you.

You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you.

Then comes the darkness.

When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby.

You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.

In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.

You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.

Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.

Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.

He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky.

He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.

“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice.

He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses.

A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room.

The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.

Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.

The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.

It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.

“Hello?”

You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.

You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.

You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.

You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation.

You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.

You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.

You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.

Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.

You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.

Quiet.

Reserved.

Pretty.

In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.

To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.

To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely.

To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.

To be pretty.

To be.

Silent is all you ask for.

It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.

The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.

Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.

The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.

Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?

“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?”

“Cha... we have to go.”

“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.

“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.

Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son.

“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm.

He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.

On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.

Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?

Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.

Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?

The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.

That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.

Then... you breathe.

Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.

You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

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Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3

Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #charles #charles leclerc sad #charles leclerc x you

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shadow4-1 · 6 months

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Silly Little Soap Headcanons (w/ A Few Wee Nasty Ones) SFW & NSFW

Soap is a funny, impulsive creature. I'm not surprised he has so many headcanons about him. Here are a few of the ones I've come up with (NSFW Under The Cut):

Soap doesn't mind being dirty (physically). Makes sense, being a soldier n' all, of course he's gotta be okay with getting covered in crud and war. But he just seems like the type of guy to walk around in dusty pants and stained up shirts on his days off. Probably works on motorcycles or cars n' has perpetually black fingernails because of it. He cleans up real nice but for the most part everyone is used to his somewhat greasy appearance.

His self-confidence is almost laughable. All of the 141 has caught Soap making poses in the mirror at himself. They've seen him slap his muscles, kiss his biceps, and show off his ass in the mirror (or any shiny surface, for that matter). He plays it as a joke, but they all know that Johnny is NOT joking about his appearance.

He has a tendency to sprawl out when he's comfy. If the crew is on base, better believe Soap is lazing over whatever surface he can find. Standing is stupid if you're not on a mission. He'll take whatever he can get. If it's a granite countertop, better believe he's on top of it, laying on his back with his feet off the edge. "S' good fer yer back, Lt. Trus' me on this."

Has a love-hate relationship with swivel chairs. There have been many times he's made an ass out of himself in briefings/meetings because the damned things move so easily. Let's ignore the fact that he will always take a running leap into a swivel chair regardless of the consequences.

Loves making sure his kegel muscles are strong so that his dick'll stick straight up. Makes himself twitch any chance he gets.

Horny horny horny. Sex is always swimming around somewhere in his mind. Sometimes, the wires cross, and his thoughts get a bit strange. "Is lickin' guns illegal?" "Wot th'fuck, Johnny."

Oral fixation. Always has something in his mouth. If you asked, he'd say his favorite thing to suck on is his lover's ass, but he'd be kind of lying. He actually sucks his thumb. He'd never admit to it of course, nor would he admit the Freudian correlation of that and his love of giving head.

Slobbery, drooling, sweating mess of a man. If he's not getting covered in bodily fluids during any kind of sex act, he'll happily walk away. He wants shit wet and sloppy and making all kinds of noise. He needs to be able to spit on something or be so into his lover that he's drooling everywhere. He wants to cum so hard, or get cummed on so hard, he can cry with no guilt. If his dick isn't sticky afterwards he's not satiated.

He fucks because he's a hedonistic bastard who's addicted to pressing the pleasure button in his brain. And if you bring him pleasure? Be prepared to have all of your buttons pressed simultaneously until you're a gushy mess. Soap does not discriminate. Pleasure is fucking pleasure.

#john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap headcanons

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thecryptidgrey · 7 months

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As an avid lover of his Dark Materials I have yet to see a BG3 daemons concept and that is a Crime. So here are some Thoughts below the cut :)

(Also something something about the representation of religion in HDM and how it correlates to BG3's depictions of faith and trauma. I have the Idea but I am too tired to do much with it; may return to the thought later.)

Shadowheart- a borzoi. Elegant, spooky looking, dramatic. Borzoi don't make much vocal noise but are very playful- instincts surpressed by Sharrens that thrive with the party (see that very cute night orchid scene specifically). Generally very sweet, loyal animals, like SH when you get to know her. Plus they look amazing.

(Act 3 spoilers- I also appreciate that she'll match it when she dyes her hair. Seems suitable dramatic for her.) Anyways, I also really like borzois and think it's be funny af to see in them trotting around in game like the weird willow tree ghost things they are.

Lae'zel- Githyanki don't have daemons; she finds them baffling. Very impractical to carry one's soul on the exterior, although perhaps an efficient companion in combat to have someone you share instincts with. After much discussion by the others she decides for them if she did have one it would be a red dragon. Nobody argues with that.

(She does decide she'd have to prove herself worthy of such a beast first, and if she trusts Tav admits that maybe she'd like if Vlaakith could give her a daemon bond with her future dragon. Would she get a dragon if she became Vlaakith's chosen? Idk, she would now.)

Karlach- Tieflings also don't have daemons. She wants one wholeheartedly. The party finds her a magic ring that allows her to summon a familiar- she gets a direwolf puppy as enthusiastic and adoring as she is :)

Said ring is obtained somewhere in the Shadowlands after she gets the cooldown upgrade so she can hug it as soon as she has it. Also it grows up absolutely massive. Its paws are the size of its head when it's a puppy. All the better for cuddling with!

Gale- Tara. Wizards, sorcerers, etc, tend to have magical creatures as familiars. This AU he had Tara since the beginning. He still summoned all the other weird shit he did as a kid, just with Tara's help. She is his voice of reason and holder of the braincells; he gets to keep one and it's all about Mystra. She's protecting the rest from its corruption. He gets them back when the party convinces him to tell Mystra to go fuck herself.

(I do chew upon the trans Gale headcanon sometimes. If anyone wishes to muse with me on how daemons, which are typically of the opposite sex to their human, would be incorporated into that, please do.) Edit- pls see comments for very illuminating interpretations of daemons and gender!! Very cool stuff!

Wyll- lanner falcon. Medium sized yet formidable bird of prey, the head of which was often depicted on Egyptian gods like Ra and Horus. Beautiful, noble and nimble creatures (good for a dexterity based build, which I focused on for him alongside charisma).

Mizora's pact significantly lengthened their tether; her devil-form punishment broke it and weakened their bond significantly, much to their distress- they hate to be out of vision of one another as a result. Halsin, Jaheira and especially my Tav Cerewyn helped him adapt to and understand the new tether.

Druids and their daemons are based on the His Dark Materials witches, who have significantly lengthened bonds. Druid bonds are just as strong in markedly different ways; each is more independent and their personalities more distinct. I will definitley expand more on this; I adore Wyll and really want to do his character justice. He's the knight in shining armour but he also made a deal with a devil to be said knight, so, y'know. His daemon should really reflect that complexity.

Astarion- luna moth (changed when he turned- he can't remember what she was before.)

Beautiful in a fragile, showy way. Short-lived. Desperate for the light. A silkmoth; silk for embroidery. He resents her for being such a reflection of the self he tries so desperately to hide yet is fiercely protective of her, so beautiful and soft and hopeful- moths exist to seek light, craving it like he longed for a knight in shining armour, like he yearns for the sun.

Cazador liked to pin her wings.

(I love my sad wet cat very much and so as payback for hurting my soul he is subjected to the tragedy that is my attempting to be poetic :) )

Halsin- bear. Druid daemons reflect their favoured Wild shapes. Strong, steady, reliable, protective. Optimal shape for snuggles, very nice and warm, overall :) vibes to look at and be around. (Bear is not present for That Scene. That Scene and daemons are not up for discussion, you degenerates. Thank you <3)

Jaheira- Eurasian lynx. Struggled a bit on this one- didn't think any of the wild shapes suited her as a daemon- so looked up the national animal of Romania (supposedly Jaheira's accent?) for potential inspiration. Got the lynx, which seems perfect. Medium sized, elegant, very dignifed and deadly hunters who inhabit forests. Notably very quiet and hard to track. Endangered, which resonated with me because of Jaheira's status as one of the last of the Old Guard, so to speak. Nocturnal, which I like because we meet Jaheira in the shadow-cursed lands. Ambush predator, which just goes with my Gloom Stalker build for her. Overall seems perfect for the legendary druid.

Minsc- Boo? Fuck knows man, Minsc gonna Minsc. I spent way too long thinking about Jaheira and now I don't have the energy left. If Gale can have Tara, Minsc can have Boo. I do love Minsc so I will be back to expand on him if the mood strikes me but also I think maybe I don't need to? Daemon Boo just seems Right. Will consult Minsc's backstory and update later if necessary.

Minthara- yet to recruit her so uncertain. Displacer beast seems apt, maybe? Something felinoid would really fit her tbh. Elegant and lethal, very aloof but loyal once you've got her. Input would be appreciated.

My Tav, Cerewyn, just in case ya'll are interested- a raven named Gwyn, short for something I haven't figured out how to spell yet.

Clever, calculating, very blunt and sarcastic to balance out Cere's generally stoic, quite, calm demeanour. Sharp eyed bird for a sharpshooter ranger's daemon. Cere is a beast master ranger/ druid of land multiclass; ravens are summonable both for wild companions and familiars and are a wild shape (Cere's preferred wild shape too).

A common species but not to be underestimated and generally unpredictable, which suits her. She romances Astarion and both she and the raven think he and his luna moth are the prettiest things they've ever seen. They're also very patient and perceptive of trauma due to (Extensive Backstory), so they're more than happy to take their time with earning his trust. Astarion is very appreciative of all the shiny things the raven likes to bring him, and also that it clawed one of Cazador's eyes out for daring to speak to Astarion like That.

CONC.; symbolism is fun and also painful :)

Daemon names are a work in progress; the muses gave me this then said lol nope and fucked off before I could ask them for appropriate names. Might post them with some sketches of the party and daemons together?

(I wrote this in Notes app at an ungodly hour with fuck all editing. It is incoherent, but if anything is genuinely incomprehensible, please tell me so I may at least try to fix it. Much love <3 if you made it this far you get to know I welcome suggestions for NPCs to give daemons next!)

First edit- I misspelled quiet so many times omfg

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yes-im-youtube-kids · 28 days

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incorrect corp quotes (with my friends)

Google: Sometimes I talk to myself for no reason. Google: Me too!

Pandora: Welcome to Fucking Applebees, do you want apples or bees? Firehouse: Bees? Pandora: THEY HAVE SELECTED THE BEES! Firehouse: Wait- YTK approaches, shaking a jar of bees menacingly

No u don’t understand how perfect this is Applebees is just one of the names I got this first try

Incognito: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life. Opera Real: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind? Incognito: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die. SK: Edible.

when the Squad drops food Publix: Eh, oh well. Sephora: FIVE-SECOND RULE! Google: FUCK! YTK: just gets more food Opera Real: drops to their knees and mourns the food Pandora: eats the food off the ground

YTK: It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating.

Opera Real: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Opera Real: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies. Incognito: Socks are Feetie Heaties. Firehouse: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties. YTK: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies. SK: Stamps are Lickie Stickies. Sephora: I hate you guys so much.

Incognito: If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous. Google: What if it bites me and it dies?! Incognito: Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Google, learn to listen. SK: What if it bites itself and I die? Incognito: That's voodoo. YTK: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Incognito: That's correlation, not causation. Sephora: What if we bite each other and neither of us die? Incognito: That's kinky. Publix: Oh my god.

this was rlly funny and I’m tired now I didn’t get enough caffeine today gn

@the-real-google @esrathebaard @firehouse-subs-fr @incognito-mode-official @operagxreal @spotify-kids-real @the-official-publix @real-sephora

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bitchapalooza · 9 months

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The uwu soft boy babygirl twinkification of Abe, especially in correlation to Tophabe, honestly irks me but not enough to make me piss blood about it. It’s just. It’s so funny. I admit it IS cute because how some of y’all draw him though.

Personally I see him as being too dumb to pay attention to most things around him so he APPEARS to be naive— again, he’s literally not paying attention. He’s too in his own world. Not daydreaming. Just in his own head, barely registering everyone else around him. He’s thinking of himself, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say he’s like selfish. Probably just having a conversation with himself in his head. Or paying attention more to his surroundings than the people in front of him.

He probably would come off as uwu soft boy babygirl twink next to Topher— or hell, let’s say any relationship partner— but really his ass is a doormat and he continues to be head empty 24/7. Probably can’t think for himself either because he’s so absorbed with pleasing his partner— which isn’t a bad thing as long as he doesn’t take it too far and comes off as obsessive or neglects his health.

Abe can be fruity. He really can be. I have no qualms with this iteration of the character. But being that uwu soft boy twink? I’m sorry but this bastard is a head empty white privileged and he knows it dumbass who just happens to be a twink. He would offend you on accident but he would accuse you of like. Cheating on purpose. And over exaggerate the drama of it too. I mean we saw his overreaction with Cleo and not believing her when she said she DID wear his jacket. He might be turn out to be a nice guy in the future if he slips up even once. He might even be the type of partner who would look through your phone to find evidence of cheating because he already IS convinced your cheating. He’s not possessive, but probably just extremely anxious and in dire need of constant approval.

I don’t know if any of this makes sense. I don’t date. I don’t understand people in real life, I get most of my analysis from media because it’s easier to understand. So if this is jumbled around, the summary is I think Abe is shitty person but he’s a lovable shitty person. And I find it really fucking funny when Abe is portrayed as a cute fruity uwu owo soft boy twink. And also he’s a teenager so he has time to grow—

#clone high #clone high reboot #clone high 2023 #clone high headcanons #clone high abraham lincoln #clone high abe #tophabe #abefk #abefucius #cleo x abe #gandhi x abe #joanabe

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nbmudkip · 4 months

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hi hi! i will admit your rampant isat posting finally got me to relent, sit down, and buy it. it was good. i have brand new brainworms now. thank you

anyway i have an isat spoiler hypothetical to ask you. if Vauguarde is fantasy France, and the forgotten island is north of Vaugaurde, is Siffrin fantasy British? did someone wish away Britain in general? i need to discuss this with someone.

I AM SO THRILLED TO HEAR THIS. CANNOT EXPRESS HOW HAPPY I AM TO HEAR THAT MY HORRIBLE GREMLIN SPAM POSTING WORKED YET AGAIN ALSO. one of my friends brought this up before and i almost exploded. i cannot handle the concept of siffrin being fantasy british. i cant take it. for my mental safety i have to believe it's not the case. malanga is south american?? and malanga fritters are commonly known as a cuban recipe???? which means that whatever the island north of vaugarde was it probably doesn't correlate to the positions of real life england and france right???? RIGHT?????? RIGHT????????? [voice of a man who knows they are grasping at straws] however i gotta admit it would be extremely funny if the wish that wiped out an entire island's worth of people and their culture and destroyed their memory from everyone's minds, severely traumatized and hurt the island's extremely limited survivors by gouging out their memories with a meat cleaver, and indirectly caused the conflict that triggered the plot of the entire game was just some rando going "i wish britain never existed"

#answered #ask #impiwimp #connor #isat spoilers #in stars and time

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quandaryqueen · 2 years

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Shackles and crutches

Arkhamverse Edward Nygma X Reader

Just a number of toxic relationship headcanons. I love me some lovely angst, so here it is. Also, I injected some of my real life experiences here, so I guess this counts as venting. Squint and you'll see a lot of Mitski's influence.

That being said, this piece will contain themes of abuse ranging from physical, emotional, psychological and etc.

I do not condone nor glorify such things.

💚 How did it started... Well to make a long story short, what happened was a series of slow burn. Edward Nygma is a man who grew wary to those who grows close to him and try as he may he push them away even if it killed him to be touched, embraced, loved. And there came the time where one came close enough and he lets it happen without much of a struggle after for so long. It felt so fucking good and he doesn't want to admit that you make him feel this way. Old habits die hard, the distrust was still there. God, you have no idea if he lets his walls down completely, you'd know how to destroy this man. As if you already didn't know that, for a man who considers himself as an enigma he was so fucking easy to read.

💚 Everything was well. Well, at least you were meant to believe that. From the very beginning this relationship was doomed to become sticky for both parties involved. But you didn't know that. All you knew is that he hates everything but you and there's something so special about that. His only piece of sanity, the one who keeps him grounded. It was a huge fucking deal to him. He can go on and on about how you mean so much to him. But words are not his bond.

💚 So... What would you do with a loving feeling, when they only love you when you're all alone? He isn't exactly the PDA man as much as he loves you, that's okay, right? Everyone has boundaries. But what he does that's very upsetting was denying his relationship with you with fellow rogues.

Him? Attached to somebody? This somebody named Y/N L/N? The moron whom he can easily make them do his bidding? Ha!

You'd think that this was just him being protective. "I can let them know what my relationship with you is, or they'll make use of you for leverage."-kind of deal but no. It's more like, "I can't let them know that I'm vulnerable to someone."

Should the whole world know that the incredible mind of Edward Nygma couldn't resist such a primitive desire for companionship, they'd think he's another one of them— the weak-minded dullards.

💚 The very first crack of the relationship came in the form of Edward finding himself wrapped around Catwoman's paws. You have nothing against her, you know that's just how she is with everybody. But Edward liked the attention and despite being in a relationship with you, he yearned to press forward. And besides, Cat doesn't know your relationship with him, he often denies your relationship with everyone anyways.

💚 You know, Edward is difficult to confront. Mostly because it will become one-sided. It's funny because you were the one who confronted him and yet he takes over and would begin to talk over you, that you wouldn't get the chance to speak. He'd fill the whole room with arguments that doesn't correlate with the topics at hand.

"Edward, I'm not mad... I'm just upset that you let her—"

"Oh, so you have the utter audacity to claim that my meetings with Miss Kyle were of personal intention instead of professional? You're delusional, Y/N. Do you see me fuming when you'd talk to others behind my back?"

"Please, Edward listen—"

"Oh hark who's talking! You don't see me accusing you for cheating when you were getting a little friendly with everyone! You think I wouldn't know?! I'm not a moron!"

To save his hide, his voice flares raw numbering the times where he stayed silent when you would talk to others behind his back. He kept it vague enough, but filled it with implications so if you were to deny, he'd have an ammunition to claim that you were being defensive. If you were confused at his insinuations, he'd accuse you of playing dumb.

Either way, there's no winning in this one. If you were to confront him, he'd flip the table on you out of defense. He's perfect, why would he make mistakes? It's obvious you were at fault here.

💚 It was one of the red flags raised, but did you loved him less?

After that particular arguement, Edward noticed how reserved you became, dismissive even. He thought it was fucking petty of you to give him the cold shoulder but fine, two can play at this game... But then it lasts longer than he likes, he'd start getting antsy. Gets into a fit, destroying a few things and when the boiling point had simmer, he would collapse in heap of tears, just a sobbing mess. His head would start racing about how he doesn't deserve you, how you're always there and how he doesn't know how to live on without you. He'd start apologizing frantically, in his knees even, sobbing and clinging on to you.

💚 What was it that Edward did to make you so attached, shackled was the right word if you weren't being in denial. All your friends and family see is a man who throws a fit when things won't go his way and that's what he is, a manchild. That's why you can never bare to leave him.

💚 After the whole fiasco had somewhat cooled down, he's still plagued with the paranoia of you leaving and so he does all his might to ensure that you'd be there, by giving you abundance of whatever the fuck. He would start being clingy, disregarding his work for a while in favour of spending time with you, his... Significant other.

"Y/N-dear, I have a riddle for you: What's otherworldly, ethereal, and beyond undescribably beautiful?"

"Oh um..."

"The answer? You." He says, making you feel loved.

💚 By this he'd miss a lot of times working on his cluster fuck of metal and code, he'd drop you off again. At first it isn't bad, but all things spiral downwards as it lasts. And the cycle perpetuates.

Suddenly, you're the reason why he's distracted. Suddenly you're not the center of his world anymore. Suddenly you didn't exist.

💚 And repeat.

💚 The first time Edward raised his hand on you was a time when you told him the truth, when you started to realise the truth.

"You know what? No on with self-preservation would have stayed with you for long! That's why no one has ever been there for you! You make everything about yourself, you're so self-centred and arrogant--"

The back of his hand collides against your face, sending you reeling backwards with wide eyes. Your trembling hand reached to touch the sting upon your cheek, your glossy eyes laden with betrayal. The man before you was too enraged to even look you in the eye, or even turn around to look at you. He remains haunched over his desk, white-knuckling the edge of his table. It wasn't until you left, when he threw the desk against the wall.

💚 And when you'd attempt to leave, he'd use all of his resources to locate you and when he does find you...

"Y/N!" He latched his malnourished form around you, his arms were possessive shackles binding in you in place. "Why did you leave me? I'm so sorry, this is all my fault, please forgive me! Don't leave me, please!"

He cried on your chest, he held you tight that you couldn't breathe. He never wants you to leave, you're the only one that keeps him together, makes him feel loved.

💚 To feel so responsible for another's stability, to go as far to ignore your own just so you can be made certain that they're in the state of mind wherein they wouldn't hurt themself-- it was wrong. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't bear it if it ever comes to him letting himself go due to your negligence.

And so you stayed. Until you decayed.

#edward nygma #riddler x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #edward nygma x reader #arkham riddler #arkham riddler x reader

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blueberry-macaron · 1 year

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The miraculous fandom still doesn't make sense in terms of the main ship. It's the same people under and out of a mask, I'm not even in the fandom but the salt sometimes is either funny to me or just kinda sad. Especially when it comes to the main male lead's role in the story and how the main girl's treatment in it.

You mean the discourse about which side of the square is the best one and how is was Mari//chat because that the side with their "true selves"? That discourse is so annoying, especially claims about how La//drien (which I actually liked back in the day) was the "most toxic one", as if the toxicity of a ship correlates with the presence or absense of a cat costume. I get that it's four different dynamics and based on that people have their prefered side, but at the end of the day, they're the same people and any discourse about which side is the best is pointless.

About Adrien's and Marinette's treatment, people constantly fight which one gets treated worse. In my and other Adrien salters opinion, from a narrative standpoint, Marinette is 99% of the time the butt of the joke, the one responsible for when something goes wrong and the one who needs to learn a lesson at the end of the day. Showrunner Astruc himself described it that way. Meanwhile, Adrien is literally perfect because he has never done anything wrong and the world around him is just rotten and bad. Also Astruc's word. Marinette gets punished for everything and Adrien either gets away scot free or, if he actually admits to fault, does so two seasons later whe it's already too late (in s5 he says sorry for telling Marinette not to do anything against Lila). This is very apparent in the Ladynoir dynamic, where it's fine for Chat noir to constanly make moves on Ladybug after she rejected him a million times before, but when Ladybug does nothing more but rely on some other people for hero stuff, which Chat noir isn't okay with but doesn't say a word about, she's the worst person. Idk but there are a lot of misogynistic undertones, which is quite ironic for a "girl power show"

On the other hand, some fans are bothered by the fact that Adrien has less screentime and most of the time, nothing interesting is done with him. He's apparently always busy with a tight schedule, yet somehow we often see him chilling in his room watching the news, doing literally nothing. He's also generally not very involved in any miraculous related stuff at all (but also hardly shows any interest in that so yeah). He's basically a cardboard cutout from himself when he could actually be an interesting character. Meanwhile, Marinette is directly involved in the main plot of the episode (even if she logically shouldn't) and her salters blame her on the cut on Adrien's screentime and lack of character developement. The say she gets to do things Adrien should be doing (which, to be fair, is true in some cases, esecially the Agreste family drama). Truth is, the more Adrien gets to do, the bigger the potential for him to fuck up and then Astruc can't pretend any longer that Adrien is the personification of perfection, so instead he stands around looking pretty and making a sad face so people will give him attention. That's not Marinette's fault.

So yeah, the show fails to meet anyone's expectations and in the end, everyone is equally miserable.

#ask #anon #ml salt #lovesquare salt #writers salt

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palidan-sheep · 2 years

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How do you think the companions would react if Sole had to cut off their own limb to get out of a trap or otherwise save their life?

Another interesting one, I like these! Thank you Anon.

Situation/scenario- Sole found themselves in a hard place between a rocky wall and a fallen boulder, their beloved arm caught between the two. Their arm below their elbow was far from saving, bone turned into dust and flesh mashed into a paste-all that jazz!

So after enough chems to kill a deathclaw and a grizzly few hours later, Sole stumbles homes, missing an arm but still alive and conscious.

Cait-

“Shite, you look like you’ve been through the ringer.”

Despite the playful words, Cait is an absolute mess of stress, worry, and panic.

She’ll be running around bossing and barking command at people despite not really knowing how to go about fixing up a wound this massive.

She can’t offer much help asides for tons of booze and moral support.

Cuire-

There’s some correlation here with what Cuire said back at the memory den after she became human and the situation presented-I’m too dumb brain to figure it out tho.

Panic 100%. Flurry of words that make no sense but she knows what she’s doing.

Immediately takes charge upon the situation, no explanation needed.

Despite this, she has a hard time telling the others what to do and considering the situation at hand, everyone a mess. She depends on a louder voice to voice her request and commands.

Danse-

“You’ve got guts, I’ll admit that soldier, but was it really necessary?”

He’s seen some shit in his life so this doesn’t have too much of an effect upon him(unless they are dating in which case, he’s a fucking mess.)

He only retains basic medical skills so he helps with what he knows that he’s capable of but leaves the rest to medics.

He won’t leave Soles side unless asked to via a medic or sole themselves. Fancy lad cakes and moral support.

Deacon-

“Alright, alright, alright, I get it. I won’t complain the next time I get a splinter.”

Humor. Lots of humor.

Asides for splinters and the occasional gun shot, he has no idea how to help other then tons of stimpacks and Med-x.

Laugh away the pain. Laughter is the best medicine after all.

Gage-

“Holy Shit Boss...”

Rather then seeing this a weakness, he sees this as a strength. Sole’s got the gull to do shit like that, the they certainly got the gull to whip Nuka-World into shape.

He’s, shockingly, has some experience in medical care but no one really trust him to help Sole.

Hes there by Sole’s side but like no one really wants him to be there, they have no idea when he last cleaned himself.

Hancock-

“I hope the reason why you had to do this was a good reason, like it was bitten off by a deathclaw or something, now take this, it’ll help with the pain until we can find you some help.”

On the outside he’s cool as a cucumber but on the inside, he’s a shit-show and a half. a few nervous leg jitters here and there and lots of chem usage. though he tries to be mindful about how much he uses, never know when sole will find themselves wishing for the sweet release of death.

He’s too chemmed out to even entertain the idea of being a doctor, one fuck up could be the difference between life or death.

Whether Sole asked for it or not, he’ll start to make up sorties about how they lost their arm. No body believes him but its funny at least.

MacCready-

“Heh, that's uh...that's quite the wound wouldn’t ya say?...we need to find you a doctor, like now.”

Like most others, he’s seen his far share of blood and bone and normal it doesn’t effect him too much but since its Sole, someone he cares about, he’s a nervous reck.

He has no confidence in his medical skills while being nervous, afraid that if he had to stich up the wound, he’d jerk and snag something important like a nerve or some body thing.

Concerned Father watching over their severely ill child.

Nick-

“Well isn’t this quite a predicament we are in? Guess I’ll start working on your mechanical hand.”

He’s not shocked that your missing an arm, he’s more shocked that you actual had the guts to do it. He’s being serious too, he’s got some connections that could help in making you a function prosthetic.

in terms of medical skills, he has none. On top of being a robot, his hands don't offer very much help, sure he can be super technical like stiches but his metal hand has done more damage then he’d like to admit.

He’ll inquire about the situation after the dust has settled until then, he just offers some advice for living without a limb.

Piper-

“B-BLUE!”

She’s. A. Fucking. Mess.

A Incoherent and in shambles mess.

She’s the last person you would want to be around in situation such as Sole’s. Remaining clam is the best way to go about this and Piper is the farthest thing from clam.

Preston-

“General! you were gone for a day! A single DAY!”

Everyday, his will to live shrinks.

He has no idea what he’s doin when it comes to a wound that big. Yeah sure, just like everyone else, he can patch up a bullet hole or stich up a slash if needs be but he has no idea where to start when it comes to a missing limb.

He’s good company, offers great moral support and lots of “eat the pain away.”

“You’ve got guts ma’am/sir, it will only help to prove that you’re willing to do anything to help further improve the Institute.”

Sole, whether or not it was their intentions, has more of X6′s respect and admiration for this feat.

He’s pretty skilled with medical care and definitely prefers it if he the one who take charge in patching up the wound.

Not very good company.

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