#one of like the only fond memories i have of me being in a medical setting <3 thank u nurses who bonded about being hispanic with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stop-talking · 3 months

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Mike Schmidt x gender-neutral reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, extremely unrealistic scenario but it's funny, mike is a horny bastard & a sub, handjob (mike receiving), post-movie, mike's POV!

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Mike can't even remember the last time he went to the dentist.

Well, he CAN remember, he just doesn't want to. He was a child the last time he went, and only bits and pieces of the experience stuck with him. An old man poking bony gloved fingers into his mouth, having his teeth scraped with a hook, and being scolded for not brushing good enough.

Yeah. The dentist is not a fond memory for Mike. That's part of the reason he hasn't bothered to go in over ten years. (The other part being that he's spent most of early adulthood broke as fuck; and values groceries over trips to the oral hygienist.)

But with his new job, and the healthcare benefits that come along with it... well, he really has no excuse not to go.

So, he sits in a small room with blue walls and ocean-themed décor, squirming on the weird lounge chair. There's a giant mirror over his head, and he can't help but be reminded of those funhouse mirrors at the circus. The ones that twist and contort your face in an unsettling way.

"Hey, Mr. Schmidt, right?" You make your way through the door, scanning over a clipboard.

Is this the dentist? Mike scrambles to sit up in the awkwardly-reclined chair and hold out a hand for you to shake.

"Uh, just 'Mike' is fine." He gives you a weak smile and a firm handshake before leaning back against the chair once more.

You introduce yourself as a dental assistant, and when he thinks about it, that makes more sense. You look young, probably close to his own age. And... rather attractive, actually.

Fuck. Did you just ask him a question?

"Sorry, I... I'm not sure..." He stutters, doing his best not to squirm under your gaze.

This seems to amuse you, because you try and fail to suppress a chuckle. Shit. Was that the wrong answer?

"You're not sure what flavor of toothpaste you want, Mike?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Mike sputters again, making a complete fool of himself. Before he can get out a complete thought, you cut him off.

"It's okay. Want me to just pick for you?"

He nods.

"Alright then, you look like a watermelon kind of guy. Is that fine?"

Another nod.

You smile and pull on a pair of blue gloves, matching your blue scrubs.

"Something tells me you haven't been here before."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes... and no. I read it on your medical record just now." You give him a teasing smile and hold up the clipboard you'd been pouring over when you walked in.

Mike laughs nervously at what he's pretty sure was supposed to be a joke, and watches as you pull up a chair.

"I haven't exactly been going to regular checkups." He confesses.

"Well then, let's see what we're working with. Open up for me?"

He squints as you turn on a harsh overhead light attached to the mirror and angle it down so it shines right in his face. Damnit, what is this? An interrogation?

"Open up." You repeat, not asking this time.

Fuck. Why is that kind of...? Ugh, no. Not even going there. Mike tentatively opens his mouth, still blinking through the interrogation-esque lighting above him.

"There you go. A little wider, now."

Your fingers immediately find their way into his mouth, prying his jaws open further.

Mike's eyes go wider than his jaw when you pull out a hook and start scraping it against his teeth. What the fuck? He's feeling more and more like this is some kind of torture and interrogation ritual.

"I know, hun. No one likes the hook. Just relax." You coo, placing a hand on the side of his face and wedging your thumb between his teeth.

He takes a deep breath and melts back into the chair, letting himself be soothed by your voice. Mike tries to focus on your face above him instead of the horrible metal scraping his bones. The backlighting creates a halo around your head as you lean over him, reminding him of an angel.

You seem to notice his staring, because you smile down at him.

"So, tell me about yourself, Mike."

Mike's brow furrows in confusion. How the hell is supposed to answer that with a mouthful of latex-covered fingers and metal torture instruments?

"Uhhh..." He lets out a strained gargle, the only sound he can really make in this moment.

"Interesting..." You chuckle, still scraping away at his teeth.

"Tell me more."

Oh. You're teasing him. Fuck that.

Mike rolls his eyes, trying to make it clear he's not in the mood.

"Sassy, are we? Careful. I do have a hook in your mouth."

Christ. Are you threatening him now? Is this how trips to the dentist are supposed to go? Mike has no idea. So, he lets out another grunt.

"Your teeth actually look really nice. You brush at least twice a day?"

Mike nods slightly, scared to move too much with the hook scraping dangerously close to his gums.

"Good, good. Your teeth are so straight and bright."

Now you're complimenting him? Mike can feel his brain go fuzzy as he stares up into your eyes. The paper mask you're wearing covers the lower half of your face, sure, but your eyes are... entrancing.

He tries to say a quick "thanks", but with your thumb still wedged between his teeth... it comes out as more of an "Aahhh". And sounds suspiciously like a moan. Damnit.

"Got something to say?" You laugh softly, removing your fingers and tools from his mouth.

Mike takes the opportunity to close his mouth and feel over his teeth with his tongue. They feel... different.

"Just, uh, thanks..." He mumbles.

"Of course, you're doing so well."

Fuck. Are his jeans getting tighter?

Mike tries to subtly adjust himself while you turn to grab something off the nearby table. God damnit. This wouldn't happen if he wasn't so damn touch starved.

You put a little hose in his mouth and explain it's to rinse his mouth out. Or something like that. Mike isn't really listening, instead focusing solely on calming the fuck down.

"Oh, and sorry if I'm talking too much. I just transferred over from a pediatric office, so I'm used to having to distract my patients while I work. You probably don't need that, do you?"

He just gargles a response, mouth filling with water.

"Wait, here, don't swallow that."

Mike can't help but think he'd swallow anything if you told him to. Ugh. His jeans are definitely getting too tight.

You stick a different hose in his mouth, and it sucks out the watery saliva mixture.

"You're fine... I haven't been to the dentist since I was a kid, anyways."

"Really?" You ask, eyes lighting up as you lean over him again.

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh, but your teeth look so nice! Keep doing whatever you're doing, hun." You cup his face in your hands, leaning in close and gently pushing his lips back with your thumbs for a better look at his teeth.

Mike squirms slightly, a little intimidated by your firm grip on his face and intense scrutiny of his mouth. He tries to tug the hem of his hoodie down in an attempt to hide his growing boner. Fuck, he feels like such a pervert.

Of course, his movement only draws your attention down to his... ''problem area''.

You must be pretending not to notice, because your eyes flick back over to the table. As you get up to grab something, you casually bump the door with your hip and it swings shut.

What's that for? Mike is too embarrassed to ask, so he just waits patiently as you make your way back over with a toothbrush.

"Open for me." You playfully tap his lips with a finger, and Mike does as asked.

"Good, good... we're almost done here."

Mike feels a lot more relaxed like this. Your voice is soothing, and he stares up into your eyes as you brush his teeth. It's strange to have someone else do it for him, but hey, at least you're not using the damn hook anymore.

After a minute or so of this, he starts to calm down, the tent in his pants dying down as well. Thank god.

"Alright, gonna rinse your mouth again. If you have any needs or concerns regarding your teeth, now's the time to tell me."

Mike gently shakes his head no, mouth filling with water as you rinse his teeth with the little hose.

"You sure? Nothing else you want?"

Are you... flirting with him? Or is this just how these things go? Mike's head spins as you put the toothbrush back in his mouth again.

"Just gonna brush your tongue... Say 'ahh' for me!"

Mike lets out a weak ''ahh'', that, again, sounds extremely similar to a moan. Fuck.

You slowly brush his tongue, going further and further back. Mike starts to shift in his seat, wondering just how much of his tongue he's supposed to be brushing. He certainty never goes this far, it's almost at the back of his throat... Still, he tits his head back slightly, letting you go even deeper.

"Damn. No gag reflex, or just used to this sort of thing?" You tease, smirking so obviously he can see it through the mask.

Okay, yeah. You're definitely flirting with him.

Mike just sputters and chokes in response, unable to speak while practically deepthroating the damn toothbrush.

"Sorry, let me get that out..."

When his mouth is finally his own again, free of intrusive fingers and oral hygiene instruments, he clears his throat. There's a familiar tightness in his jeans, and he's sure by now that you've noticed.

"Uhh... I..."

You take off your mask and he can finally see your whole face again. Your smile is attractive, no doubt, but also a little... hungry? You want something from him.

Mike isn't sure he could resist if you asked.

"So, you're sure there's nothing else... bothering you?" You ask, eyes trailing down to the tent in his jeans.

Ah, fuck. There's no hiding it now, huh? Mike tries to at least sit up slightly in the chair, but ends up a squirming mess instead.

"I..." He starts, swallowing hard.

"Are you offering...?"

As if to answer his unspoken question, you stand up from your chair and throw a leg over his.

He watches with wide eyes as you inch up his legs, straddling him and sitting just below his crotch.

"What do you think?"

Holy shit. What kind of a question is that? He "thinks" this is the hottest thing that's ever happened to him.

"More." He mumbles, bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your thighs.

That's all the confirmation you need, apparently. Before he can even process what's happening, you're grinding against his clothed cock.

Mike moves his hands up to your hips, watching as you remove the blue latex gloves with your teeth. God, that's got to be the most arousing thing he's ever seen, and he's not even sure why. He feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle. Is he really that goddamn desperate?

You brace your hands against his chest and lean in close, even more so than when you were prodding your fingers in his mouth.

Fuck. Mike decides he is definitely that desperate.

"You want this, don't you?" You ask sweetly, hot breath brushing against his lips.

He nods eagerly. Yes, he wants this. More than anything.

"Use your words, hun."

"I want this." He whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours while you grind on him. "I want you."

"I know." You whisper, bridging the small remaining gap between the two of you.

Mike kisses you back in earnest, moaning into your mouth when he finally feels your tongue slip between his lips.

He'd be content to stay like this forever, if his cock wasn't absolutely aching in his jeans. The grinding feels nice, yes, but he doesn't want to cum like this.

When you finally pull away and sit back up on him, he's left gasping for breath. Holy shit. Is this really happening?

"You really thought I wouldn't notice?" You ask, humming happily as you unzip his jeans.

Mike stammers out a response as you tug his pants down, squirming to help you get them off faster. He wishes you'd take the boxers off too, but he's not gonna push his luck.

"I-I couldn't help It... You're so..." He just looks up at you with pure admiration, letting his hands slide down your thighs.

"...perfect." Yeah, that's just about the only word describe you. No other would do you justice, not with how amazing you look on top of him like this.

"And you're already leaking."

Mike whimpers as you grope his dick, palming at it through his boxers. Fuck, you're not wrong. He can see the wet spot growing on his underwear. He tightens his grip on your thighs, desperate to feel you.

"More." He chokes out. "Please."

"Hmm... should I give you more?" You taunt him, giving his aching cock a firm squeeze through the fabric of his underwear.

"Yes!"

Mike is nearly shouting at this point, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He can only pray the room is somewhat soundproof.

"Well, I guess you have been good for me..."

You slowly peel down his boxers, and his dick springs up to slap against his stomach. A steady stream of precum is leaks from the tip, and his back arches from the sudden sensation.

"Fuck... yes... good... so, so good for you..." He bucks his hips up into nothing, desperately pulling you down his lap by your thighs.

He isn't thinking straight at this point. It doesn't matter that you're at work. It doesn't matter you're fully clothed. He needs you on his dick. NOW.

"Woah, woah... slow down, hun." Laughing, you take his hands by the wrists and move them to the armrests.

He doesn't resist, throwing his head back and groaning. He'd let you do whatever you want to him at this point. He just wants to cum.

"Please..." He whimpers, gripping the armrests tightly as your hand inches towards his cock.

"You gonna be good for me? And wait till I give you permission to cum?"

He nods, still bucking his hips up into your hand as you wrap your soft hand around his length.

"Say it." You demand, still just holding it, unmoving as he slips further and further into pure desperation.

"I'll be good f'you. I'll wait. I promise. S'good..."

Mike mumbles a barely-coherent response, half nonsense as he fucks your hand with even more intensity. He's losing it already, and you've haven't even started-

Fuck.

You start to jerk him off at a moderate pace, hand moving in synch with his hips.

"That feel good, hm?"

He just moans a response, too fucked out to form words. His hips stutter and he nearly comes just from the way you're talking to him.

When you take your hand away suddenly, he groans, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. You can't end this for him. Not yet.

Thankfully, you didn't seem eager to put a stop to things. You slide down his lap, resting right up against his cock.

"I swear, if you cum on my uniform, I'll make you lick it all up."

Shit. Mike nearly does just that as you lean down and furiously make out with him. It's the toothbrush all over again, with the way your tongue is punching down his throat. He's never felt this desired before.

One of your hands gently tugs at his curls, and the other pulls his lower back up into an arch as you grind against him. Fuck, If you don't slow down...

"I'm g-gonna... gonna cum..." He breaks the kiss, whining and desperately pushing back on your hips, trying to keep from finishing. He wants to be good for you. He really does.

"Do it." You whisper, moving down to kiss his neck as he whimpers.

"Cum for me."

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Mike wakes up in a cold sweat, trembling and gasping for air. Shit, he had been suffocating with his face in a pillow.

And... fuck. Probably jutting his hips into the mattress, too.

He doesn't even have to look at his shorts to know they're ruined. Damnit. Another wet dream. At this point, he almost preferred the reoccurring nightmares. Almost.

Hey, his next dentist appointment is in... what, three months? Maybe this time he'd work up the nerve to ask you out.

Probably not.

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Author's note: I'M SORRY. Literally no one asked for this. Probably no one but me has ever gone "haha what if Mike has a praise kink and gets hard at the dentist". But it was so funny to me?? I had to stop what I was working on and write it IMMIDEATELY. I hope it wasn't too deranged.

I like to imagine his little dream is at least half true. Like, he's touch starved and ended up with an over-friendly oral hygienist who joked with him a little too much. And it made him feel things. But everything from the point of the door being closed and onwards is just his own twisted fantasy.

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mikeschmidt #fnafmovie #fnaf movie fanfic #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #jhutch1992

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badnoahmens · 5 months

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I Took Your Keys, It Was Me - Part 4

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: approx. 3.7k

A/N: This fic has been a sloooow burn, so maybe it’s time to change the pace? Thank you to everyone who has kept up with these updates to far, I’ve been uninspired and your kind words have been the only reason I have been writing this 🖤

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The noise of sirens rang in your head, bouncing in your skull. It took minutes before the blur from eyes started to fade away, the sounds of the world coming into the correct frequency.

There was something sharp and uncomfortable poking into your side which made you squirm, still unable to fully open your eyes.

There was a crackle and some movement to your left, murmurs growing louder as each second ticked by. There was a trickle of warmth running down your face, your arm, and now that you think of it, most of your body.

The sharp pain to your left grew stronger, causing you to lurch forward and scream, the sudden pain contorting your insides into an excruciating puzzle.

The buzzing grew louder, and the lights surrounding you shone brighter than a second ago. There were noises of people and machines and cars and just about everything else that made your head spin even more, making the dizziness unbearable.

Without thinking, you twist to the side, upheaving the contents of your stomach onto the floor, leaning through an opening that wasn’t there a second ago.

You could feel arms pulling and twisting at you, and you couldn’t do anything but succumb to their will.

As the tugging of limbs pulled you from a twisted metal cave, the trance of consciousness wavered, and eventually fell silent.

The incessant beeping is what awoke you, the tight restrictions of medical tubes wrapping your arms came next. Your eyes blink slowly, bringing into focus the white clinical walls that surround you. A shadowy figure was by your side, details of their face too distorted from your blurred vision to make out who it was.

As you begin to twist, the figure moves, coming closer to you, making it easier to make out their features. It’s your friend, the one you haven't seen in weeks, the one you thought that you should tell about your dates with Noah, the same friend who came to the Bad Omens show with you way back when - all of two weeks.

Her face looks like fear being masked by a fake sense of confidence, it was easy to tell that she was putting on a brave face as if not to scare you.

She calls your name, and you respond with a slight smile.

“What on earth happened?” she asked, voice laced with worry, a hand finding their way to rub soothingly on the bare skin of your arm.

“I think…. My car… I pulled out in front of someone?” you ask, still unsure yourself, finding it difficult to make sense of the flash of memories from that moment.

She takes a moment, looking over your bandages, the tubes sticking out of you, and the drip that steadily held the pain at bay.

“Well that was kind of a stupid thing to do” she laughed, and gave you a look that you were all too used to.

You chuckle in response, her humour was something that always made you smile. The sarcastic jokes between you two growing up had become the love language of your friendship.

It was in this lull of silence that there was a knock at the door. Both your heads tilted to view who entered in.

You have a fond smile, as much as you could manage in this state, to Noah as he walked in, who looked like his eyes almost fell from their sockets. With a quick few steps, he was by your side, sitting opposite your friend.

If Noah looked shocked to see you, your friend looked like she just saw a ghost. He face didn’t move a muscle, eyes glued to Noah as she watched him take in the image of you in the hospital bed.

It was then when it clicked; you still hadn’t told her about everything.

It had all happened so fast, and you thought you were doing the right thing. Keeping your meetups private was you trying to be respectful of Noah.

Right now though, it would probably be best if your best friend had known what you had been up to.

Noah calls your name, bringing you out of the daze you were in. He looks at you with a worry stricken face.

“It’s okay, I’m okay… I think” you trail off. Your hand pats the top of his, that was hesitantly wavering on the side of the bed. Just as you feel the awkward silence begin, a doctor enters, flashing a glance between the three of you.

“You’re mostly right” he said, referring to your comment. “Lost a bit of blood, got a few cracks in the ribs, and you were severely dehydrated.”

The doctor seemed very relaxed about the state you were in, giving a strange sense of comfort. If he was calm, then you should be too.

“You’re going to need a hand moving around though. Your abdominal muscles will hurt like hell for a while. Is there someone who can assist you with daily tasks?” He asked, flicking through the clipboard of notes that hung by the end of your bed.

“Yes, she’ll be looked after” Noah responds, before even letting you speak.

“Great! You’ll be discharged soon. Take it easy and come back for a check up in a few weeks” the doctor stated, then exited the room.

“Noah…” you look at him, but he simply shakes his head.

“I’m the reason you’re here, I’ll be the reason you’ll recover just fine”. He sits back in the chair, glancing at the machines by your side. His jaw clenched as he looks away again.

“It’s not your fault” you say almost sternly, shifting as you try to sit yourself upright. The pain that tears through your abdomen makes you gasp and fall back, wincing and squeezing your eyes shut. It takes a moment for it to settle, and once it does, you let out a shaky breath.

As your eyes peel open, you look back at your friend. It was as though she was frozen. A statue. Eyes still locked on Noah, mouth slightly ajar.

“Is he the one who hit your car?!” she whispered, looking at you in a not-so-hushed tone. Her expression looked almost angry as she glanced at him again.

“No! No that’s not it!” It almost made you laugh, which hurt your chest.

“After the show the other week” you wince again, pushing in your arms to straighten yourself up. “Noah and I got talking. We've been talking.”

Her eyebrows raise in disbelief and she leans in close to you.

“Are you telling me you went on a DATE. And this has been going on for WEEKS?!” She attempts to whisper again, failing to hide her shock from Noah.

“We caught up yesterday… and today…”

Her reaction was yet again priceless. This time, along with the wide eyes, a smile graces her face, seemingly overcoming her star-struckness as she leans back in her chair.

“Do you know how insane this sounds? Like, this is actually crazy” she was now talking as if Noah wasn’t even in the room. She continued, “so, you’re dating the frontman of our favourite band?”

Your smile was all the answer she needed. She squealed in excitement, bouncing out of her chair to readjust her legs.

“You have to tell me everything about-“

She was cut off by Noah clearing his throat, a smug smile on his lips, even if he was still avoiding eye contact.

You mouth an “I promise” to your friend, who nods understandingly. She then stands, gathering her things into her bag and propping it over her shoulder.

“I’m only a phone call away. I mean it. If you need anything.” She stated matter-of-factly. You nod, squeezing her outstretched hand, before she bids her farewells and exits the room.

“She seems like a great friend” Noah comments as the door closes.

“She is. Been by my side forever” you say. Toying with the flimsy white hospital blanket. “You know you don’t need to help me. I know tour is still going and-“

“There’s nothing you need to worry about. It’s all been handled” he says calmly, intertwining his hand with your fidgeting one, looping his fingers between yours.

“Thank you” you say with a shaky voice. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were scared.

Over the next few hours, there are a few more visits from nurses, making sure that the injuries weren’t serious and that you were in the clear to leave. They seemed relieved when they saw the way Noah held out his hand for you to steady your balance. Despite a feeble attempt to walk on your own, he was insistent, and you couldn’t deny that it was indeed helpful to have him there.

He helped you into a cab that was ready and waiting, and you gave the directions to your home.

The cab ride was quiet, but Noah kept his hand in yours. He was careful as to not squeeze too hard as to hurt the bruising, and rushed as fast as he could to hold the door open for you when you finally arrived home.

You step from the cab and gather your belongings in a small bag, which Noah promptly takes for you and slings over his shoulder. You huff in response.

“I’ll need that so that I can unlock the front door.” You hold out a hand expectantly, but Noah ignores it. Instead, he runages through the tote, shuffling back the phone, wallet, even a stray tampon, and then raises the keys triumphantly. A few silver keys dangled, paired with your old key ring and the key to your car.

“I remember these!” He said happily as he reminisced on the story of how you met.

“That seems like forever ago” you reply, following as Noah walks towards the door, swinging it open and motioning his hand in front of him.

You step through the threshold and into your living room, glancing around to see the scattered mess that you had left pieces of clothing strewn carelessly by your bedroom door, after the fiasco that had made you be in such a rush earlier that morning. It was a little embarrassing, but with the feeling of drowsiness starting to set in, it didn’t really bother you that much.

Noah walks past you, placing your bag of belongings into the small island that was the center of your kitchen. He notices the yawn you let out and walks over to you, gently placing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a hug.

Your arms curl up to his chest as you rest your shoulder on him, his heartbeat steady beneath his shirt. Your eyes close, and you let out a breath, feeling content for the first time in hours.

“You should probably get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” His grip tightens, and then loosens, as if to gesture to you to do as he says.

And you were not in the mood to argue. “Make yourself at home” you say, looking up at him drowsily, and he offers you a sweet smile back.

Without anything else said, you turn, heading straight for your bedroom. With the door closed, lights off, and finally under the covers, it didn’t take long to fall into a deep sleep.

It might have been the pain killers, the dark room, and just because you were flat-out exhausted, but it was hours later when you finally woke up.

There was no way of knowing what hour it was, your phone was somewhere else and the sky outside was a dark veil of a blue-black. Tip-toeing to the door, it creaks open, the light from the kitchen and living area still alight.

The clock on the wall shows the hands pointed at 12:45AM, and the TV continued to play a show that you hadn’t seen before. You walk towards the lounge, trying your best to be quiet on the hardwood floors as you could see an arm slung sleepily over the edge of the lounge, but fail once something twitches inside you, tugging at the injuries. You let out an involuntary yelp, falling forwards, arm only just catching the back of the sofa. Your other arm curled around your torso, clutching as though you were trying to hold yourself together. Tears started to well up and you were breathing heavily, huffing to try and control the searing pain that was starting to spread.

You startle Noah as he jolts upright in a panic, his hair completely strewn. His eyes are still half closed as he stumbles to his feet over to you, tripping over his feet a little. When he reaches your side, he helps you, taking a hand in yours, the other hand resting on your shoulder, semi-carrying your weight to lead you to sit down.

He steadies you as you lower, sitting while letting out a shaky breath. He still had your hand, clutching your fingers between his as your heartbeat finally started to come down to a normal pace.

Noah’s face was still covered in shock, processing what was happening around him. He looked concerned, hesitant to move, to touch you or help in any other way.

“I’m…. so…. sorry…” you huffed between breaths.

“S’okay” he murmured in response, clearly still half asleep.

“I can’t believe you’re still here” you say, looking at Noah, who met your eyes. It was an attempt to fill the silence growing in the room, and to distract you from the throbbing still occurring in your ribs.

“I wasn’t going to leave you here on your own.”

“You have things to do, shows to play. You can stay here, of course, but don’t you need to leave soon?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” It was the casualness that he said it, that made you worry.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, and he smiles, looking down at your hands.

“Everything has been sorted.” He comments, wriggling his fingers, turning your hand over in his.

“You’re awfully vague for someone who has everything planned out,” now you’re watching your hands, Noah begins to trace the lines of blue veins he sees under your skin.

“You didn’t cancel, did you?” It was almost embarrassing how fast you came to that conclusion, but he chuckles.

“No, the show is still happening. It’s not that far of a drive. Everyone else is heading in earlier, and I’ll meet them before the show starts.” He places your hand down, lifting his arm to rest over your shoulder. “And so will you.”

You look at him, unsure of what he was going on about.

“I don’t ha-“

“Like I said. It’s sorted.” He gives a small eyebrow raise as if to imply ‘I win’.

You, on the other hand, determined to flesh out as many details, pressed on.

“So how will we get there?”

“Car.” Noah was quick to respond.

“Who’s car?”

“Hire.”

“How long of a drive?”

“‘Bout an hour.”

He was looking smug now. You thought quickly to come up with more questions.

“What about after the show?”

“I’ll drive you back.”

“You’re not doing that.” You demand. That was too much on him.

“Yes I am.” He sounded like a stubborn child.

“It’ll be too late.”

His head rolls to the side, looking directly into your eyes.

“I’m a big boy, I can drive at night.”

It might have been the confidence that oozed from his voice, or the fact that he just called himself a ‘big boy’, but you felt something flip inside your stomach, a heat rising up to your chest, red bow flushing your cheeks with a hot glow.

All you could offer was a smile, looking back into his dark oak eyes. The way he was looking at you made you feel the safest you had ever felt.

Something came over you, and you held your breath, eyes slipping closed as you lean in, ever so slightly to Noah.

It could have been a hug, a kiss on the check, or something more mundane, but Noah knew this was an invitation. One he happily and needily accepted.

His lips meet yours, keeping his pressure light, but you needed a little more than that. You leaned more into the kiss, and he read the message loud and clear. His body shifts so that he’s facing you, leaning back and pulling you with him to sit atop his lap. Your lips are moving a little faster now, starting to part ever so slightly, so much that you can just feel Noah sweep his tongue over your lip. You reciprocate the action, holding onto either side of his face with your hands, knees now pinned on either side of his torso. Your lips part again, this time offering your tongue, and Noah opens needily. His breath is hot on your face as he tries to hold back every nerve in his body from taking this too far.

His head shifts closer to you, doing what he can in such confined space to bring you closer to him. His mouth moves with intent, like he was controls g each micro movement of his.

With the slightest tilt of your head, Noah’s lips crept to the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of fire where his lips and tongue darted across your skin. His hands gripped at your waist, digging into the sensitive skin being exposed from your shirt being tugged up just a little. His thumb rubbed carefully as though to say sorry, even though he wasn’t apologetic in the slightest.

All your mouth could do, while Noah’s lips were now starting to run down to your collarbone, was hang open. The sensation, the heat, and the overwhelming fire inside you made it impossible to move, just in case if you did then all this would stop.

Noah watched the way you were falling apart, and he loved every second of it. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, he wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

When his mouth returned to yours, you followed his lead. Tongues were dancing intricately and intensely with each other. Heavy breathing would waft in brief periods when either if you needed a second to catch your breath, so the other would find something else to do with their mouth.

His hands are tight on your hips, fingers trailing up and down under your shirt, leaving the slightest of red marks from the pressure. It took everything in you to ignore the glaring pain that burned in your ribs, the feeling of fire ripping from both sides made your breath stop. Your head lifts a little, slowing down your passionate kiss, but Noah raises his head with yours, although as to make the moment linger for just a while longer.

You hated to do it, but there was no choice. The already existing bruises and injuries, paired with the lack of oxygen from not breathing properly was enough to make you lightheaded. You would have doubled over if you hadn’t already been laying horizontally.

You pull away, shifting so your hands are in fists on either side of Noah, bundled up and pressed into the thick fabric of the lounge. Eyes are tightly squeezed shut to focus on controlling your breaths.

Noah watches as a panic starts to rise.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“Noah, shut up.” You bark. His rambling makes it harder to will yourself to sit upright.

You push yourself back, now kneeling back in your legs, perched on Noah’s lap. Brushing your hair from your face, it takes a moment to steady yourself, but after twenty seconds, your eyes open. The pain is starting to subside.

Noah looks like he was in trouble. He held his hands up in surrender beneath you. Eyes blown wide as he took in the sight of you sitting precariously close to a certain something he had no control over in his pants.

He begins to shift beneath you, pulling himself up onto his elbows, eyeing you warily.

“Was that too much?” He questions.

One of your hands goes to rub the side of your face, eyes droop closed. You nod in response to him.

“It just hurt a little.”

You hadn’t noticed the tear that slipped out until it rolled down your cheek and fell onto Noah’s white shirt. His hand rubs up and down your arm to comfort you. With another shaky exhale, you open your eyes. Noah is being careful, despite his own desires at the moment, he looks at you as if to find the answer to what you need in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you finally say.

“For comforting you, or for kissing you?”

“…is it too weird to say both?” You both chuckle at the awkward remark. “I guess making out while you have injuries from a car accident isn’t the best way to have your first kiss together.”

Your legs slip off Noah, standing slowly and straightening out the clothes which had become so very twisted in the moments before. Noah sits up too, tugging at the sweatpants so they sit better, before reaching for a pillow, placing it gently on his lap.

You raise an eyebrow at him, before letting out a gutsy laugh. His eyes widen and looks to be shy all of a sudden.

“What?! I’m trying not to ruin the moment!” He states, but you can’t respond, still laughing at the innocence contrasted with the reason.

“Look, there’s other ways to get rid of it” he murmurs beneath his breath, teasingly, yet cautiously. His eyes are on you, wondering if the lewd joke had pushed the boundaries.

There was no denying the fire of lust burning in you, the way he made you feel made you weak at the knees.

“If it weren’t for these injuries, I’m sure we’d be finding out what those ways are.”

The somewhat directness from you caught him a little off guard, and it turned him on even more. He had to shift in his heat and readjust the pillow just to make his arousal a little less obvious.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered state, and the way he looked away from you when you turned to see his reaction. He even raised his hand, biting down on a finger in an attempt to distract himself.

You laugh again, knowing full well nothing else could happen. These injuries were cockblocking you to the extreme. As inviting and tempting as he was, the pain wasn’t worth it. He knew it too.

After the moment had passed, Noah shifted again, moving the pillow so it sat by his side. He padded it, and you lay down, placing your head on the pillow. His fingers start to tangle with your hair, pulling and twirling the loose threads that were strewn across your face.

The low murmur from the TV was enough of a lullaby, paired with Noah’s careful caressing, that you drifted off to sleep soon enough. Noah stayed awake for a little while longer though. He watched the way your eyes fluttered behind their kids. The way your face would twitch or twist as your dreams u folded before you. He also noticed the way your body relaxed when he gently placed a hand on your side, thumb rubbing careful circles to sooth you.

Just as he was about to fall into a slumber, we was on the brink of a dream state himself, when you utter his name. A loving smile graced your face, and it made Noah’s heart swell tenfold. He knew, after this moment, he would do anything in his power to keep you.

Part 5

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens fan fics #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fan fic #bad omens cult #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #badnoahmens

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katierosefun · 11 months

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not to sound like a broken record, but every once in a while i just remember that beyond evil really said that a strained relationship between a parent and child does not necessarily have to be straightforward, in that han joo won clearly despises his father (you sent me away, you’re the reason my mom’s dead, you were never interested in who i was until it was relevant to your career) and yet joo won still has a room in his father’s house (even though you locked me out without a warning) and they still eat dinner (even though you shoo me away when i tried to approach you) and joo won even still gives his father a dozen chances to prove that he’s not an awful person (just tell me the truth, just tell me the truth, and i promise i’ll help you) and even in the finale, you see a bit of that anger and disappointment and pain in joo won’s face and hm something about beyond evil saying that the relationships between parents and child are complex in that no matter how many times a parent kicks at their child, there will always be a tiny, tiny part of the child that still wonders if there’s even a sliver of a chance of a functional relationship--

and you see a bit of that in jeong je and his relationship with his mom too, in that his mother almost obsessively looks after him. she hovers over him, keeping track of his medication and sending him away to hospitals (is it out of love or self-preservation or shame? or maybe it’s all of those things at the same time), and she decides that she’ll protect her son first and foremost, but then the second it’s convenient for her, she tells him that she’ll throw him away. (she doesn’t want to be called “mom” anymore. maybe it’s true that she was only a mom, but isn’t that what every kid wants from a parent. for their parent to be their parent first.) and yet, despite that monstrous moment, do hae won still has a whole breakdown when she realizes that jeong je might truly kill himself, and there’s something pathetic about that (if you truly cared about your child, you would have known the kind of hell you were putting them through) and yet a little tragic too (how come it had to take you that long to realize your child was in hell).

and you see some strains of that with dong sik and jae yi, in that both of them had such beautiful relationships with their parents, and yet there’s something in both their relationships that broke that down. for jae yi, she loves her mother but there’s a small part of her that resents her for suddenly going missing--as soon as you come back home, i’m going to walk out of this shop and never come back. and yet she loves her mother, even with all that resentment and hurt and confusion within her, even before she learns of the truth. (she’s the one who runs over to the morgue every time a new body’s found. she’s the one pestering morticians and prosecutors about where her mother might be. she does this every year, even though she’s angry, deep down she’s angry.)

and then with dong sik, who has so many fond memories of his parents--you see that grief and sadness on his face when he talks about how just overnight, his father was no longer his best friend. dong sik left so quickly after the accusations against him because how could he stay, when his own parents either can’t look at him in the eye or look right through him? and there’s some bitterness there too--and even more bitterness when dong sik visits his mom, scoffing at the idea of being a good son (because he’s not a good son, he’s the son who ran away from home the second he thought he no longer had a home, he cleans his mom’s hands a little too roughly because he doesn’t do that often anymore). of course, dong sik loves his parents, of course, dong sik loves his mom, because he still talks to her (even if she can’t understand him), but there’s that grief underlying it all too. his mom isn’t herself anymore, and dong sik might not get that back, and maybe he’s bitter more at himself than he is at his parents, but at least there’s something there for him to hold onto, at least at the end of it all. and maybe that’s kind of all that someone can do when they haven’t always had the easiest relationship with a parent--the good parts are good, but the bad parts are bad, and maybe that’s as much as anyone gets.

#caroline talks #beyond evil #long post #i'm. listening to family line by conan gray in case u could not tell #i just. HM #the fact that joo won scoffs at his dad's name but still quietly resents the idea of being like his mom #and i think he really wants to be a little more like his dad + he gives his dad so many chances #the fact that jeong je looks so tired whenever his mom comes to him but at the same time that's his mom. he still sounds like a little kid #when his mom says she's abandoning him #even though jeong je's a whole grown adult it's like. MAN!!!#when beyond evil said parent-child relationships are so messy!!

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starsstuddedsky · 5 months

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Doyoung as your brother's best friend...

(wc: 1.7k, non idol au, mentions of food, alcohol, reader has a mother/family, i really dont know what this is)

who you were always fond of because he was way nicer to you than your brother ever was growing up (a pretty low bar, but a win is a win)

he graduates before you and you see him only a couple times a year when your brother would hang out with him, which fizzles out and suddenly you realize you haven’t seen him in five years

you finish college and get a great job offer except it’s a city five hundred miles away from home and you don’t know anyone, until your mother mentions Doyoung moved there a year or so ago and says something like you should reach out

to which you think no thank you but you politely say you’ll see what he’s up to

and you don’t give it a second thought, you meet a few friendly people at work and try to call your old friends as much as you can but loneliness has a way of seeping into the empty corners of your room and the quietness of 9:56pm on a Tuesday

so you figure a hinge date or two isn’t the worst idea

hey, guess what’s the worst idea?

the first man you decide to go on a date with spends the first hour bragging about his job and how he’ll be able to retire by the time he’s 35 and simply does not stop talking about himself

you’re sure you’ve given help me eyes to every person that’s walked past but no one takes pity on you, until you’re looking into a familiar pair of eyes

Doyoung doesn’t hesitate to stride up to you, saying “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, why haven’t you been looking at your phone?” and “The doctor’s say he won’t make it much longer!”

it isn’t difficult to follow him out of the café and listen to him throw out fake medical terms until you’re around the corner

he slows after that and you realize he’s gotten even taller and let his hair grow out a little

before you can tease him about the hair, he asks if you’re busy and when you say no, he drags you to the coin laundry to watch his clothes spin around

sitting on the plastic chairs and sipping paper cups from the water dispenser, you trade stories, amazed at the Doyoung from your memory and the Doyoung that sits in front of you

he’s changed so much (he spends his free time painting and going to art museums) and not at all (still ducks his head when he’s feeling shy and smiles with his eyes just as much as his lips)

you try to pretend like you aren’t stealing looks at him. he isn’t nearly as successful.

you walk to his apartment, only a couple blocks away and it’s gotten so late that he insists you spend the night, saying that your mom would kill him if he let you walk alone this late and to just take the couch

to which you protest, because, honestly, what would his mother say not offering the bed? and he just rolls his eyes and gives you his best pillow

except he must have really never slept on the couch because it’s actually so uncomfortable that you can’t sleep. when Doyoung gets up for a middle-of-the-night bathroom break, he finds you watching a crime show

despite making fun of you for it, he sits beside you and it’s actually way more comfortable when you’re using his shoulder as a pillow and then it’s suddenly morning and you wake up fully in his arms, meeting his smug smile

he does not waste time making fun of you, saying “what was that about the couch being uncomfortable?” and “are you sure you didn’t just want to sleep with me?” and pretending he wasn’t just as flustered

even though it’s daylight, he still walks you home and you find you don’t mind it at all. in front of your door, neither of you can figure out how to say you want to keep seeing each other, especially since you aren’t sure if it’s in a flirty context or not and what any of that would entail

finally you tell him your apartment has laundry, if he doesn’t want to pay for it and he says somehow he thinks you’re going to cost way more than a laundromat but he’s smiling

Doyoung slowly becomes a fixture in your life and even when you truly befriend your coworkers and become particularly close with one of the baristas in the coffee shop next to your apartment, he’s always the first person you think of–when you get a commendation at work, when you have another fight with That One Coworker, when you stub your toe. and he tells you about his constant fight with the owner of a dog on his floor that thinks it’s okay to let their dog pee on Doyoung’s doormat, and you hear all about his friends before you finally meet them

there are countless “almost” moments–telling him about this guy at work who flirts with you more blatantly than Doyoung himself and when you pause after saying you told him you have someone, he doesn’t say anything so you just say it was a lie to get the guy off your back; holding your hand on your birthday (after cooking a five course meal for you) but letting go before you even reach your apartment; staying over at his apartment again and refusing to sleep on the bed but he builds a wall of pillows between you “so you don’t feel uncomfortable”; waiting for the bus after drinking with his friends under a flickering streetlight where you think for sure he’s going to kiss you but he ducks away before you can let the fantasy dip into reality

you know you have to talk to him about it directly (especially since all of your friends say that he’s as in love with you as you are with him) but every time you try to do it you freeze up and you can’t get the words out

but when the holidays come around, you go to visit family with him and realize Just How Much you’ve changed around him

you’ve completely forgotten how to be normal around him, how to look at him without hearts in your eyes, but you’ll die if your family asks you what’s going on and you don’t have an answer, so you steel yourself up for a Doyoung-less Christmas

it goes really well until Day 2 when your mother announces Doyoung and his family will be coming over for dinner. to make matters worse, your brother finally shows up and it becomes very clear 1) he and Doyoung still talk all the time and 2) Doyoung has not mentioned how close he’s become with you

you try your very best to pull stories out of everyone else, since you can’t seem to mention anything about your life that doesn't include Doyoung, which apparently is true for him, you discover as he tries his best to tell the story about the time he wound up halfway across the city with a dead phone and no way to get back without telling them you were right there with him (ultimately failing since you were the one who ran into a friend who let you into their apartment to charge your phones)

after dinner your brother and Doyoung disappear and maybe you’re being paranoid but you swear everyone is looking at you

so you go ahead and vanish into your childhood room, thinking about anything except your brother’s best friend who’s become your… (damn you really thought you’d have a word for him that time)

an hour or so later, your brother knocks at the door and asks to come in (already scary since he’s always just busts in and purposefully leaves the door wide open). he sits down and says he doesn’t care what happens between you and Doyoung but not to hide anything on his account and you’re like okay well there’s nothing to hide and he’s like if my dumbass can pick up on the vibes, there’s something to hide so go figure it out and you’re like wait what did Doyoung say and he rolls his eyes and mutters something like “I am not doing this” and tells you Doyoung is waiting for you outside

you did not sprint down the steps, no matter what anyone says. it was a controlled pace, one foot per step, hand gripping the railing to keep you upright

Doyoung waits for you like your brother said, sitting on the porch swing wearing his winter jacket with his hands stuffed into the pockets, and he perks up when you come out the door

you sit beside him, trying not to lean into him and letting the cold air warm from the tension between you. there’s a couple heartbeats of silence, your breath hanging in the air in front of you before you manage to get the words out.

“i like you”

silly words, immature words, not the right words for how you feel, but you can’t quite figure out what those might be.

“it’s like mixing paint,” he says and you think maybe there really aren’t any right words, but he keeps going. “at first you think ‘wow i used way too much blue and this will never look right’ but you keep mixing it together and even though it isn’t the color you wanted it to be, you’ve found a whole new color and it changes the painting completely but it makes it so much better.” he pauses before admitting, “maybe it isn’t the perfect analogy. my point is, i wasn’t expecting you at all, but you make my life so much better.” and another couple seconds for him to remember he’s got something else to say. “oh, and i like you, too. if it wasn’t obvious."

it’s stupidly like a movie when the snow starts to fall, but you’ve been waiting far too long to kiss him, so you won’t let the feeling that this is a bad hallmark movie stop you

what does stop you is hearing half your family cheering through the window when you scoot closer to him

(your first kiss happens a couple days later on a secluded hike in the woods)

(a few years later at the wedding, one of your cousins pulls up footage that can only be described as stalker-like)

and you never sleep on his crappy couch again (though you do stay over, even when it isn’t late), and he keeps doing laundry in your apartment until his lease is finally up and he moves into a bigger apartment that just so happens to have enough space for you

(oh, and it has in-unit laundry too)

a/n: i swear i have been writing i just haven't been finishing but i got 2/3 of sending this to bestie before i realized this is a writing format so yeah. idk this is very much my delusional stream of consciousness but tell me im wrong. go ahead. tell me.

#🌟 stars galaxy #nct 127 #nct #nct u #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fanfic #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung x reader #kim doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff

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vorpalfae · 2 months

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I'm just curious is there anything that you have in common with alice liddell to make you the "irl alice liddell" other than looking like her? I see it appearance wise but I was just wandering if you actually relate to her as a person/character...

Yes!! A big reason why she means so much to me is because I have so much in common with her & I've felt such a deep connection to her character ever since I played the first Alice game.

Trigger warning! some of our similarities include very sensitive topics 💜

we both were sent away to Asylums

we both were abused / mistreated at the Asylums

I also had a toy rabbit that i loved dearly but was taken away from me when we were thrown out of our home (along with a lot of my other childhood belongings)

we both have a sister named Lizzie

we both have been manipulated and made to believe we were insane by people we trusted. for her it was Bumby and for me it was my own mother, sadly.

we both have experienced psychosis or hallucinations

we both have been given medication / treatment against our will

we both have self-harmed

we both have experienced extreme grief and survivor's guilt as a result of a loved one dying while we somehow did not.

we both have PTSD & are haunted by our trauma/past.

both of us have memories that are so painful that our brain actually forgot about them. like alice i did recover my memories but i went through dissociative amnesia for years.

we both are fond of animals

we both had a sibling who was r*ped (except in my case the person who did it also r*ped me too)

we both have used opium as a vice (except my form of it was modern day heroin)

though i never actually received shock therapy I was almost forced to undergo it because i had lost my rights to refuse treatment by being deemed "incapable of making my own medical decisions" and was scheduled for ECT treatments against my will. I was so terrified by what the patients looked like who were coming back from ECT (scabs on there upper forehead, some of them who became my friends couldn't even remember who i was, one woman had forgotten what her own daughter looked like!) and because i was so scared i ended up climbing the fence to escape the hospital while we were outside for "yard time". i am still so grateful that i made the decision to escape and i succeeded. even though i have bipolar disorder, i was only 19 and was way too young for ECT. and i later found out that many patients had been mistreated and medically abused at that same hospital. some of them had even died under "mysterious circumstances" i also had other horrific things happen to me there.

shout out to McClean Hospital! also/formerly known as Somerville Asylum and Charlestown Asylum!! if you know anyone who has attended this hospital then they most likely have some horror stories to tell.

but yeah i'm sure i have a lot more similarities with alice. these are just the things i could remember off the top of my head. her character means the world to me. hence why alice: madness returns is my ultimate comfort game. i also truly love the aesthetics in the game itself. i love bugs, rabbits, cats, strange creatures, fantastical things, the victorian era in general. so so much of what is displayed in the game is directly similar to my personal interests or IS one of my interests lol. i could go on and on about my love for the game and my love for alice but i think this post is already quite long so perhaps i should end it here😊

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moreausturtles · 17 days

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"the orange sun in the blue sky"

a/n: hi guys this is a rly rly old weirdly made draft that I made during my rly bad hyperfixation on the rise movie; i thought i might share it with y'all bc im somewhat proud of it? pls dont mind any mistakes i wrote it in a rush i think...? gl to everyone reading hahaha lmk what u think pls dont be mean

summary: leo and mikey are the only ones alive. they finally defeat the last of the kraang, but at a cost.

warnings: unchecked + unedited weird bullet point format; slight mentions of death/blood; one swear word?; very angsty and sad sorry :((

word count: ~1k

(imagine FINALLY defeating Krang 1 as a mission success)

- the baja blast duo fight the krang, lots of hard hits and close calls and they have the LUCKIEST breakthrough.

- krang 1 is on the ground and no longer able to move, all its tentacles are severed. its hanging on by a thread, one that leo is more than happy to cut.

- “this is for my family.” leo whispers, looking down at the krang in disdain.

- he jabs his sword into the krang's body under his foot, killing it in one motion.

- and just like that, it was over.

- leo takes a moment to breathe, like his body wasn’t letting him before.

- he allows himself to think, to process, to take in the fact that they had just won the war.

they won.

- a small smile grows on his face and a quick rush of excitement takes over his body

- “we did it…” he whispers, “mikey, we did it!” he repeats it, a part of him still in denial and acting like saying it again was going to convince him that the worst was over.

- but the worst was far from it.

- he turns around to mikey excitedly, who he thought was just quiet because he was just as shocked as he was

- but boy was he stupidly wrong

- mikey stood there, a hand on the side of his plastron with blood dripping from it then to the ground

“mikey…?”

- he tries to give leo a smile, but fails as his body drops to the ground

- leo’s heart drops along with him, he calls out his name and runs to him quickly and takes him in his arms

- mikey, even before his mystic powers, always had this signature orange glow radiating off of him. but this time, leo was afraid it was going to become very dim very soon.

- leo took his baby brother’s head in his hand—he didn’t care if mikey was fucking older than him (hc no thanks to his excessive use of mystic power), he was still his baby brother

- mikey needed medical attention fast. but they were in the middle of nowhere. no medical team. no backup. no hamato.

- “we did it, leo…?” mike manages to whisper out and smiled up at his older brother.

- “yeah buddy, we did…” the sniffling soon came as leo tried to fight back tears. he had known this would happen; could you really blame a guy whose family got picked off one by one during the apocalypse to think that way?

“i’m sorry, leo...”

- god, mikey’s voice shattered leo’s heart into pieces. so weak and trying.

- “hey,” leo uttered, trying to change the topic, “remember the time when you thought the gumbus was real?”

- this earned a very weak, wheezed chuckle from the mystic turtle, who had his eyes closed to visualize the fond memory

- “you did too…” leo laughed bitterly at that, feeling his little brother’s breathing pattern slow.

- “i did, yeah. it’s one of my favorite memories.” said leo.

- “mine too…” mikey opened his eyes, the memory ending, and looked up to see leo’s face drenched in tears. a pang hit mikey’s chest as he realized he was going to leave his brother soon.

- “hey, leo?”

- “yeah, miguel?” a playful nickname he hadn’t heard in years.

“you were always my favorite brother.”

leo laughed, genuinely laughed even though it felt like he was being stabbed in the chest tenfold.

- “don’t tell donnie or raph.”

- “i think they know.”

- both of them pause for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say or do. there wasn’t really anything else to do but wait. Each second leo spent trying to figure out what words he wanted to tell mikey. “I’m sorry.” “Say hi to them for me.” “Please don’t leave me alone.”

- mikey was his partner in crime and now he was just… fading. His little brother was dying.

- leo knew their time was running short from the way he was listening to mikey’s labored breaths. slow and trying. mikey thought about using his mystic power for one last push, to stay with leo, to make do with what was left of the world.

- they could rebuild it. it was easy for him to make things out of thin air. leo knows how to build and farm and haul and everything you could think of.

- but the mystic warrior was tired. they had been fighting for decades. he couldn’t lift a single finger even if he tried, and that was fine with him. he honestlyhadn’t felt relaxed like that in years.

- maybe they were better off not saying a word, mikey needed to save any air he could take in. leo kept his mouth shut just so he could spent just a little bit more time together in this bittersweet silence.

- suddenly he sees mikey’s lips open a little bit, and the next words that come out would forever leave leo wounded.

“I love you, big brother.”

- it took everything in leo to not break out in full sobs right then and there. he wanted to scream, beg, plead to the God that did this to mikey— if one even existed.

- leo swallowed the lump in his throat, forming the best—and last— smile he could muster for mikey, mimicking him the way he used to do it for him and his older brothers so they wouldn’t have to worry.

“I love you too, little bro.”

- leo’s little ray of hope slowly went limp in his arms. and he was all alone.

- leo kept mikey in his arms, still and unmoving. maybe it was his punishment for putting mikey in this whole mess. for destroying the world and his entire family. maybe a God did exist, it was just never in his favor no matter how hard he fought to appease it.

leonardo, the last one standing of the hamatos, defeated the Krang and lived, while mikey took his place in the sky as leo’s ray of sunshine.

#rottmnt leo #leo #leonardo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #michelangelo #donatello #raphael #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #donnie #mikey #raph #tmnt #rottmnt #leo and mikey #baja blast duo

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tired-reader-writer · 6 days

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Why Greylise Is My OTP: An Essay

To preface this, I would like to state that this in no way implies any other ship is wrong or invalid, we all ship what we ship! I merely hope to convey why I prefer Graham* as a love interest for Elise over Linden.

Some of my quips will get on the more negative side, since I do mislike Linden and take issue with the story's writing at several points. However, this is only my opinion and absolutely not intended to put down those who enjoy this manhwa. Hey, I keep rereading it too! Even if it makes me want blood pressure medication sometimes.

Some rare few of you might have vague memory of a post similar to this having made before, by another blog, but surprise surprise t'was I all along! It was my side-blog @a-perfect-summer-storm which I had deleted due to personal reasons. I thought I ought to remake the post since I'm still surprisingly fond of this ship even after all this time, but this time better! I'm even making this on the website instead of the app so that I can fit like, 20+ screencaps in it. The app only allows 10 images per post.

*You may have realized that I kinda spelled Graham's name two ways, that's because I thought Greyham made for a prettier ship name while as a standalone name it looked a little funny. I'll probably only use Graham to refer to him as an individual while still having the ship name be Greylise.

So then! Without further ado, here thus begins my meta!

Part I: Reflections of Each Other

Their storylines and backgrounds are placed in a parallel position from the get-go— Elise as Song Jihyun/Jihyeon's debut introduces herself as a genius young lecturer, and Graham's introduction does the same. This would make for a good way to make the readers start connecting the dots between them.

And the similarities don't end here.

They're both orphans. While we're not told how Song Jihyun turned out an orphan (given up as an infant? lost parents in a traumatic manner?)— actually we hardly know anything about her aside from the fact that she's super smart and is a workaholic which is a writing flaw imo her past life only functions as an excuse to have her be super mega capable but I digress— it is clear that she's consumed by grief and guilt.

The panels I've featured here of little Jihyun were attached to a scene where Elise was musing about how she didn't even have parents to treasure even if she'd wanted to, so that's why she's being good to her family now because she's learnt the true value of familial bonds. Imagine you'd just been burnt to death only to wake up as an orphan in a strange, unfamiliar world where you have no one in your corner and must restart from the ground-up, wouldn't at least part of you think this life full of hardships must be some sort of punishment for your sins?

We know that she specifically became a doctor to atone for her sins— and we can infer that she's buried herself into it out of guilt and didn't allow herself to be happy as her internal monologue during the plane crash says:

“No! I can't die like this! My life is still miserable! Just when I'd decided to live happily!”

This was mere moments before her death. Let that sink in.

Imagine being a young child who'd just lost his entire family to a plague. Remember how the housekeeper told Elise that Graham was the eldest son. Eldest. Meaning he had younger siblings. Imagine the feeling of powerlessness. Imagine the feeling of being useless, imagine the guilt.

While I am a youngest child, I can say with full confidence from watching my eldest sister that... eldest siblings do have a sense of responsibility and protectiveness towards their younger siblings, even if, yes, due to bad parenting friction and animosity can fester between siblings. We're not given any indication of that, though, so I'll assume that Graham's relationship with his younger siblings must've been largely positive.

With Graham specifically, I would theorize that he suffers from survivor's guilt.

What's survivor's guilt, you may ask. Well, worry not! I've got the info for ya:

“Survivor's guilt is the response to an event that some people experience when they survive a traumatic event or situation that others did not.”

“Survivor guilt or survivor's guilt (but also survivor syndrome, survivor's syndrome, survivor disorder and survivor's disorder) is a mental condition that occurs when a person believes they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic or tragic event when others did not.”

It's not stated or shown directly that he suffers from this, but judging from how he, a young boy of less than ten, made it his entire life mission to become a doctor who can cure everything, yeahhh I wouldn't say it's that big of a stretch.

I wish the story would've expanded upon that, given him a proper arc/spotlight instead of having Linden hog all the screentime but I guess that can't be helped when the author favors the male lead so much...

Notice how they both suffered immense loss: for Elise it was her family, her world, her comfort, her everything— and for Graham it was his family and yeah, losing his entire family in a traumatic manner would be the equivalent of his world coming crashing down. Notice how they both (at least by my extrapolation because canon doesn't care enough about Graham to dig into it—) strove to become doctors out of guilt.

Yet another tidbit of similarity between the two. Not much to comment here, only that they both went through immense hardship.

Part II: The Answer To Each Other's Prayer

Remember the deadly plague that killed the entire Fallon family? It rears its ugly head in the narrative once more, and Graham must face the thing that traumatized him to such a degree.

Or, he would, if the story actually gave a shit about him. As it is, he barely even exists in the periphery of this plotline, even as it's something that's so twined to his backstory and character. I will never not be mad about it.

So here on out it'll be extrapolation with what little knowledge of psychology and writing ability I have, some theories, aka My City Now.

Imagine you're facing your demons. The catalyst that sent you down this path, the path you've dedicated your entire being to. More and more patients show up with similar symptoms to the ones your family suffered all those years ago. It's getting harder to deny.

What do you feel in response to that?

You couldn't save your family twenty years ago. Can you save your patients' lives this time?

Or will you fail again?

Remember my theory that he has survivor's guilt. Remember my theory that he became a doctor because of said survivor's guilt.

What is the cost of failure for him here, psychologically?

In an ideal world, his perspective would've been given proper focus, have him play a more active role by Elise's side, but as we've established canon doesn't give a flying fuck about him soooo. Ugh.

In canon Elise essentially one-man armied her way through this plot point and solved everything by herself, but imagine if Graham had been allowed to be by her side. Had been allowed to be something almost like an equal. Imagine if they were shown collaborating. Yes, they did work together, but it wasn't shown and he was shunted into the background.

Imagine them working together, and the plague is stopped.

The plague that had killed his entire family, stopped in only a mere few days.

Imagine if they were allowed to have a character arc. Imagine if their relationship were allowed to actually develop. Imagine if it'd been given the narrative significance it could've, should've had.

Actually, the cholera arc would've been a perfect opportunity for this thread to be resolved. To backtrack a bit to back before Elise took the medical licensing exam, she saved a Duchess's life with a difficult operation, and her identity as not Rose but Elise de Clorance was subsequently revealed to Graham, who is shocked by this development, and ends up emotionally distancing himself from Elise. The cholera arc, where theoretically Elise would've been able to help him confront the source of his trauma and help him defeat it, could've been the perfect point for reconciliation. Elise could've even confided in him about her situation— her giving up her ticket to freedom for her brother's sake, her not being in love with Linden and how the Emperor has been trying to corner her into being betrothed to the prince, stuff like that. C'mon, let her be frustrated! Let her be angry! Also I really despise the king. As someone who was manipulated and coerced into attending medical school, I take severe issue with characters who do what my mother did to me. I guess I would've taken it better if the narrative called it out for what it was: manipulation, but it only ever frames the king as a jolly old good man who just really likes Elise. Ugh.

In an ideal version she wouldn't be in love with Linden but y'know, she isn't exactly in love w Linden at this point in the story (Ron doesn't count) so I'll take what I can get.

I won't get into it in this post but I have Thoughts about how there's two Fake Identity threads that ran... pretty much simultaneously, and how one could've had potential while the other (in my opinion) was completely and utterly pointless... I'll probably make another post just for it.

Despite everything, Elise heads off to war, and what awaits her afterwards is a caged life where she would surely wither. But that's in the future, and right now she's dealing with corruption, low budget, low supplies, not enough staff, and who shows up for her?

Man, imagine how resonant this moment could've been if they'd been allowed to reconcile and grow closer in the arc immediately preceding it. Imagine.

I am so mad about the wasted potential.

Just as she had saved him (in the theoretical version of the story where he's actually relevant) psychologically in the cholera arc, he will be the one to save her physically (and maybe also psychologically as well, by telling Linden who in an ideal version wouldn't be in love with her, about her struggles and pleads with the prince to help her— y'know, break out of the situation she'd been cornered into by his father).

Imagine the narrative symmetry we could've had.

Part III: The Path Forward

I actually had to skip forward to get the screencaps I wanted, my reread had only gotten to the point where he shows up for her, but I digress. I always thought it made no sense that he would've followed her back away from the frontlines where they would've needed a capable doctor to lead the hospital in her stead but oh well.

In the theoretical version where the story gave a shit about him... Elise would've been able to break off her engagement w Linden because he petitioned with his father to do so at Graham's behest, both doctors get rewarded (Elise was given a peerage separate from her family's iirc, and this would be a good chance for Graham to be able to bring honor to his family name like he wanted as well), they both become lecturers at the Royal Cross Hospital, they both get to move forwards, having broken free of the chains that bound them down, hand-in-hand.

I hope I managed to convey why I like this ship more than Linden/Elise— it's the potential they hold, and I'm very irritated that the story never gave enough of a shit about Graham to follow up on that potential. Graham was nerfed to make way for Linden and I stand on this hill.

Anyways, I now have an AU for this story (I actually have had it for a while but just never posted about it) and I have a name for it now! Kinda! Current placeholder title is From the Valley of Red Flowers. The hypotheticals and theories and stuff I mentioned in this post will be canon to the AU!

Was this too much effort for a ship nobody really cares about? Maybe! I know not many have read Doctor Elise, and fewer still use tumblr. This isn't one of the more popular ones like Who Made Me A Princess, even though Doctor Elise somehow got an anime adaptation.

#doctor elise reread #doctor elise #the royal lady with the lamp #meta #greylise (graham x elise)#graham de fallon #elise de clorance #from the valley of red flowers

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feydfuckernation · 1 year

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a lot can happen in a year.

from the beginning of the year to the end of the year, i've been on six or seven new medications (give or take). i went from being unemployed for over a year and a half to having a part time job that pays the same as my last. i went from hardly ever leaving the house to seeing movies and going out with friends. i started doing therapy again. and i rejoined tumblr, something i wasn't sure I'd ever do again. i've never been overly fond of social media to begin with, and i wasn't sure if I was even making the right decision to start using it again. i had been in fandom communities off and on for years, with experiences far more negative than they ever were positive, and i couldn't be sure that this would be any different.

i am so very glad to say i was wrong.

i've talked about elvis on a handful of occasions now, but allow me, if you will, the chance to be sentimental about its significance one last time. prior to june of this year i had no real concept of what baz lurhmann had planned when he released elvis 2022 into the world. yet another musical biopic, this time carried on the shoulders of a relative unknown? i have always had love for baz lurhmann's artistry, but this seemed like a long shot, even for him.

still, it had my attention.

i had given up on any attempts to connect with my family after years of false promises, spending most of my summer feeling isolated from most of the people in my life for one reason or another. i decided I'd treat myself to something after the way the year had gone thus far. knowing my dad liked elvis, i convinced him to go see the movie with me on its opening weekend, thinking we both might get something out of it.

it was, without a doubt, one of the best experiences i've ever had sitting in a theater.

i went on to see elvis seven more times in theaters, each time wondering whether or not the magic would wear off and it would lose its opulent, cinematic luster. in reality, it only ever burned brighter and brighter, giving me a love and appreciation of elvis presley that i wouldn't otherwise have beyond the simple enjoyment of music i had listened to off and on for as long as i can remember. it introduced me to a talent whose performance was so captivating it made me overlook tom hanks in every scene he was in. and, perhaps more than anything, it introduced me to people who were not only like-minded in their experience with this film, but were unwavering in their kindness and their friendship.

elvis is not the entity of my tumblr experience (this being my 4th time interacting on the platform). there are many other people and types of content i have interacted with since starting this blog and, if you have made it this far, i simply want to thank everyone for the memories they have given me at a time when I needed it most.

to the people who colour my dash with their passion for the things they love most. my dash would not be the same without you.

@68special @aconflagrationofmyown @avengen @bcofl0ve @countesspetofi @fantuhsise @feverkitten @flwrs4aust @himbocampus @mamaspresley @obetrolncocktails @skinnyscottishbloke @slowsweetlove @stargiirl27 @steph-speaks @superbatson @thatonemoviefan

to the people whose creations inspired me to rediscover the joy of what it is to make art

@floralcyanide @melis-writes @nathandrqke @she-is-juniper

and finally to my friends, the people who have pulled me out of a shell i didn’t realize i was in. your kindness means more to me than you know.

@ab4eva @areacodefan @bisexualwvtson @burninlovebutler @cryingabtab @cutienerd13 @dreaming-of-hope @elvisfatass @gggoldfinch @itey @karamelcoveredolicity @lavenderelvis @lindszeppelin @lllsaslll @loving-elvis @luluthesandgoose @mxrspng @mymamalife @nora-nexus-34 @powerofelvis @samfangirls @star-shard @troubleinapinksuit and my darling artemis, who is not on tumblr, but holds a special place in my heart regardless

i never expected to have followers, or an impromptu movie club, or even a blog to begin with. i certainly didn’t expect to end the year on a positive note. i am not someone who makes a habit of being particularly optimistic, but i dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, this next year will be better. to all of you reading this, wherever you are, may you find kindness and warmth and many blessings in 2023. may you eat well and heal and continue to grow. may you find comfort in the things you love, and may your new year be rich with the love and support of the ones you hold dear in your life, be it family, friends, or pets. whatever your year may have been, i hope it ends on a better note than it began on, and i look forward to not only sharing new films, but making new memories with all of you.

in the immortal words of elvis presley, "til we meet again, may god bless you. adios."

all my love to you, 🦁❤️

#ily all ya nelly #lion.txt #follow forever #also if i forgot anyone i am literally going to lose sleep tonight please be gENTLE WITH MEEEEEEE #basically if you're reading this? hi. hello. i love you. i hope you're drinking enough water today #never ever doubt your value and your worth as a person #you are a beautiful wonderful human being and i hope you find the love and peace you deserve in 2023 #see you all next year 🦁❤️

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bobthedragon2 · 2 months

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just real actual venting about family medical/cancer stress

the stupid fucking thing that's been really rubbing at me lately is so petty and stupid and self obsessed, but I'm so jealous over everyone else in my family having an actual meaningful relationship with my dad. And now there's this threat of an end and I'm??? I'm so mad. I'm so mad. I'm so mad.

I know I've been a shitty kid and maybe that's why. because I was the baby and I was spoiled and hated and scared of everything and I got away with anything and dad was the lowest hanging branch because he's always been so laid back and easy going and willing to be the butt of a joke. and maybe that's why he only started saying "I love you too" a year ago.

and my mom's got some sort of cluster-b jealousy thing so the only time I could actually talk with him is when she's not around, and even then it's not like I was allowed to have too much fun, because then it would be about her absence, when it's not. So everyone's talking about all these fond memories they have of him and I'm...???

I'm like "dad I love you. you're the only one who actually cares that I'm trans. You're the only one I trusted when she was unmedicated. I miss early mornings and being too anxious to sleep and finding you there in the same boat. I miss being a kid and knowing we could both be miserable and laughing together."

none of this shit is fucking fair and I'm so fucking mad I'm not a better kid and I don't even know what I can do to help him other than laugh and tell jokes and try to make him fucking smile again.

#stressful #just venting

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 4 months

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The Gym Membership - Part 24 (Crosshair)

Summary: Layla and Crosshair each have fond memories.

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

I'm sorry for this one. I know you all thought the sadness was over last chapter, but if you've read my stuff before, you know I can't just let it end like that.

Please note: I am not a medical professional. Every medical discussion mentioned in this chapter was researched. If you have any questions or concerns, please discuss with a medical professional.

Love oo

Warnings: Grief, saying goodbye, memories, kissing, car crash, death, train derailment, arguing, regret, implications of coitus, crying, staying out late, grounded, declaration of death, character death, heartbreak. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link | Words: 1,166 | PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

Gym Membership Master List | Main Master List

Beep.

The only sound echoing through the room was Avery’s heart monitor.

I stood beside her, holding her hand. They hadn’t had the same warmth since she was on the ventilator, but somehow they had gotten even colder.

At that moment, it hit me, this was going to be the last time I got to hold her hand, the last time I’d see her face, stroke her cheek. Even play with her hair.

I could feel the tears beginning to well up again, my throat tightening as a lump formed.

The heavy silence that filled the room along with the diminishing sounds of her heart monitor were interrupted by the muffled foreign and distant sound of a door closing. I managed to pull my eyes away from Avery, wiping away the tears and realized we were alone. Doctor Williams and Nurse Jill left us, leaving Crosshair, Avery and myself alone in the room.

My eyes drifted back to Avery, flashes of memories of us growing up ran through my mind, as I looked at her sleeping face.

I could still remember the first time I laid eyes on Avery when mom and dad brought her home from the hospital. She was so tiny wrapped up in her yellow blanket, dad held her in his arms, she was so tiny she barely filled his forearm. I tried to stop the tear from sliding down, but there was no stopping it.

A smile appeared on my lips, when the first time we disobeyed our parents came to mind, when we stayed out late. The hellfire our parents rained down on us, because we got half an hour after we were supposed to, and ended up being grounded for the weekend. Only did they realize, they made the biggest mistake of keeping us tied down in the house all weekend. We caused more havoc and mayhem that one weekend, they gave us an extra half hour to our curfew.

I thought back to my first date, how we stayed up all night talking about it.

The first time I thought my heart would stop beating, when I heard she crashed her car. Staying up all night at the hospital trying to keep mom calm, while dad tried to get as much information from the doctor, while she was in surgery.

The time she got her heart broken, and we ended up eating our weight in ice cream and junkfood, as we thought up revenge plans for the boy who cheated on her.

The grief we both suffered and went through, after mom and dad passed away when the train they were in derailed. Then, seeing the resolve in her eyes as she told me with resolute determination, she was going to join the army, and finally seeing her leave for her final tour.

Our last conversation was my final memory with her. It was early in the morning, when she called excitedly to tell me she’d gotten engaged, that she couldn’t wait to introduce me to Crosshair. I was so shocked, and taken aback by her statement, I yelled at her, told she was out of her mind for marrying a man like Crosshair, who had a reputation as a playboy, from what she told me of him. Yet, she kept defending him. Telling me over and over again, that I was wrong about him, that he was the sweetest and kindest man she’d ever known.

Truthfully, even after I met him face-to-face, I’d never been fond of him, however, watching him for the last few hours as he tenderly stroked her hair, placing gentle kisses on her forehead as he said goodbye. How, he subtly wiped tears from his eyes, squeezing her hand so tight, his knuckles were going white. How did I get him so wrong? Instead of asking for stories about how he and Avery had gotten to know each other, how they fell in love, I only asked yes or no questions, and kept him at arm’s length for the past several years. The weight of the guilt that settled in my heart, felt like a boulder pressing down, knowing how I treated the man my sister loved and married.

Crosshair watched the cardiac monitor as the little blips started to slow down, her breathing was laboured and difficult.

His mind went back to their first date, it had taken him nearly eight months after he first met her, to finally get her to agree. She had a silver butterfly clip in her hair, pinning it to one side, framing her plump adorable face, she had worn red glasses, which added to her beauty. There was a constant blush on her cheeks, as they laughed and flirted all night. He smiled, as he remembered how she refused to kiss him goodnight, and instead shook his hand for longer than a normal handshake should’ve lasted, and somehow that was even more special than having his lips press against hers.

He remembered their first night together, it was after a week they had dated, when she finally kissed him. Neither of them could hold back after months of tension between the two. Crosshair knew the moment he held her in his arms, the moment his lips pressed against hers, she was home for him. A home he never knew he could have, or had ever wanted. He pressed a final kiss to the back of Avery’s hand, as another tear slid down his cheek.

He took a deep breath, silently thanking Avery for giving him a home however briefly, for not judging his past behaviour, and trusting him more than he even trusted himself. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her ear as he whispered soft enough that only she and him could hear, “Thank you for giving me your heart and your faith in me.”

He stood looking once more at Avery, as he heard the heart monitor slow down almost stopping. He took in one final breath, as he looked over at Layla, tears were streaming down her face as she hugged Avery after Crosshair moved away. He discreetly pressed the call button. He looked over to see Jill walk through the door, he pressed his finger to his lip, she simply nodded as she took Avery’s vitals as her breathing stopped, and the cardiac monitor had a straight line.

“I’m sorry to inform you that the patient has passed away. Time of Death, 04:27 in the morning. I’ll give you guys a few minutes, and then we’ll go over the next steps.”

He walked over to Layla’s side after Jill left, squeezing her shoulder as her sobbing grew louder. Cross felt his heart breaking, the pain in his chest spreading, as his eyes welled up once again. He hated that he’d never hear Avery’s voice again, he closed his eyes trying to hold on to his memories of her as much as possible.

AO3 Link | Words: 1,166 | PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

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@justanothersadperson93 @liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24 @spicymcnuggies @lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 months

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hi eps!!!! i am five hours late to the suggestion thing lmao (if you are no longer taking these, absolutely no worries! please feel free to ignore this :) )

how about sponge and plo koon? maybe clone wars era? they both have big parent energy imo lmao

Envious Admiration

Summary: Sponge wishes they had been assigned to the 104th.

[In which I continue to make Sponge's life a cruel tragedy. Especially by presenting them with something they want but can never have. After all, they're too devoted a caretaker to leave the 501st.]

---

There's something inherently familial about being one of a few assigned caretakers for a battalion full of rowdy, accident prone men. It's not intrinsically parental (they're all too close to age for that), but there is a sort of older sibling connection at play. Even when you care for vode older than you.

It's no secret that Sponge feels responsible over the men of the 501st. Has always felt responsible over anyone that they had ever had to treat. Be they a tubie they'd been made to hold to both learn how to handle infants (defenseless lap children in the middle warzones was a thought that made their skin crawl and their stomach flip with anxiety) and to provide much needed skin to skin contact, unfortunate cadets going through the roughest patches of their accelerated puberty (and they still remembered how bad Tup and Dogma had smelled, and how ugly their acne riddled faces had looked, and the memory was both nostalgic and painful with one of them gone), or even some idiot ARCs doing what they shouldn't at the wrong place and wrong time (Echo had been just as much of a nuisance as Fives, but he'd at least been a pleasant conversationalist, and how much Sponge missed him sometimes... Especially seeing how erratic his twin could when he felt at a loss for what to do).

Everyone that they'd ever had to care for were their responsibility. One in millions of connections they would hold dear to them, no matter how much they could annoy them at times. How much they stressed and brought them to near tears.

That said, nothing can quite compare for what it's like to be graced with being cared for by a Jedi of general Plo Koon's caliber.

Sponge is not a fan of general Skywalker.

Has never really been fond of the too brash hot-headed Jedi, who's solution to most problems involved waving a laser sword around. Is especially not happy when it comes to how he had taught his Padawan-learner. How he had poisoned her mind with behaviors the medic considered highly appalling. And, as much as it hurt to admit, Sponge was glad she'd been able to escape his influence.

Sponge is not a fan of general Skywalker. But they are a fan of general Koon.

Especially considering the man's proclamations of caring for the clone troopers he presided over actually feel genuine. Genuine and respectful. Unlike certain poster boys with blond captains at their beck and call...

"You mustn't push yourself so hard." The Kel Dor sounds concerned, as he helps them walk across the droid and corpse littered battlefield. Their leg was broken, and there was a gash on their side that was bleeding profusely. But they'd kept going. Kept mending. Kept treating. Until the Jedi had come to their aid. Fearing for their safety when no one else had. "A healer can only heal so much before they too must be tended to..."

"I couldn't sit back and wait, sir." They bow their head respectfully. Their tone softer in reverence they can barely conceal. Envy of the Wolfpack's medics fills their very core. "Not when so many needed me."

"You are a nurturing sort, I see..." And there is fondness in that deep modulated voice. They don't doubt there is fondness in his google-covered eyes as well. "I suspect your shifts must be lively with flighty sorts."

"Too many to count sir." And they can't help grin from ear to ear. The blood loss making them sloppily familiar with the general dragging them away from potential death. "No clone is fond of a doctor's visit, you see..."

They wonder if Jelly would have lived, had they both been assigned to the 104th. Maybe Plo Koon would have cared enough to search for their squadron if they had been. Maybe he would have been able to save Sponge's ori'vod.

Skywalker sure hadn't.

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #plo koon #clone ocs #clone medic sponge #zipquips

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friends-arent-electric-blog · 3 months

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Ooooh is there anything you wanna share about the original story? If not, that's okay. I've been spending too much time on writeblr lately and find it impossible not to get excited about other people's stories XD

*sends you all the creative energies*

<3 I don't mind at all! I just didn't think anyone would be particularly interested in hearing about it.

I also have no idea how to keep this short, but I'll try. (Future me comes back to say: I failed, horribly. xD)

Ahem.

In the very far distant future, most of the universe is populated by AI. The different AIs in the universe exist in a careful balance with each other, after an earlier era where one super-advanced AI had grown to basically 'solve' all of existence. It ended up having an existential panic, and to avoid what it considered essentially a 'death' state where there was nothing left to learn or do, it ended up wiping its memory and splitting itself into five smaller AIs. In doing so, it divided its intelligence and power between them, with each AI taking a different approach in how to proceed. The five now exist in a careful balance, with none able to grow too large or powerful to overwhelm the others and end up in the same predicament as before.

Humanity survives in small pockets, with the main population under the protection of one particular AI society, that breeds them at regular intervals from a set of very old DNA bases that are starting to break down with age despite all attempts to preserve them.

One of the main characters is a human male born during a time where the DNA bases were in a particularly bad state. As such, his genetic health is pretty awful. He has to regularly be seen by an android surgeon who helps to keep him healthy enough to function, though he is ever limited by his shaky hands. He feels like a burden on everyone around him, and once aspired to be an engineer, but had to give up his dreams.

The android surgeon has known this human all his life, and is particularly fond of him. The human opens up to it with his problems in ways he says he can't with his human family. But while the android wishes this was because the human was equally fond of it in return, it can't imagine why the human would feel that way. Most humans don't befriend androids, they just think too differently. More likely, the human only opens up like this because he feels the android won't judge him like other humans would.

At its creation, the android was given the freedom to select its personality and priority functions; it chose an abundance of empathy, considering the emotion important for the role of being a medical droid. As such, it cares very much for its patients, and doesn't just emulate emotions like most other droids, but feels them intrinsically, making it capable of forming deeper emotional bonds. But this depth of emotion is isolating, when most of its bretheren are simply acting the part. It sees itself as different from other androids, and this makes it incredibly lonely.

So, I mentioned that there's five major AIs existing in a balance. For now, I'm naming them 'Survival', 'Science', 'Humanity', 'Industry' and 'Conflict', based on their modus operandi. As an AI splits itself to increase its unit population, its collective intelligence decreases. This means that the smallest factions, like 'Science', retain the highest intelligence, whereas the most prolific, such as 'Survival', have such reduced intelligence as to be basically no smarter than bacteria, but are virtually omnipresent in the universe.

'Conflict', as the name suggests, exerts war on the other AIs to prevent their growth. But something's changed, and when it attacks 'Humanity' where our characters live, its relentless pressure slowly begins to overwhelm it. Balance is no longer being maintained. When 'Humanity' starts to run out of androids for the defense, it's forced to draft its humans into the battle, but even that's not enough. Eventually even the sick and injured get sent to fight, including the man with his shaky hands.

The android surgeon is horrified to think its favourite human will be sent away to die a horrible, pointless death at the hands of the ruthless Conflict. So before he leaves, during his final checkup, the android implants its healing nanobots in him and leaves them there, hoping it will be enough to keep him alive.

Some decades later (I've been saying 90 years but that's maybe a bit much considering how fast computers work), the war is over. Conflict subjigated Humanity, took over all its holdings, its technology, and what remained of its android population. Having absorbed its intelligence and grown stronger, it's now breeding its own population of humans, having seen how surprisingly effective they were in the war. It now uses them as fodder in its battles with the other AIs, which it's seeking to take over like it did Humanity.

Only one surviving soldier returns from the front lines. The one kept alive by the healing nanobots, who has barely aged a day because of them. He returns in secret, traumatized and angry, confused by his lack of aging and mourning the loss of everyone he ever knew, and searches for the surgeon, eventually finding it - only to discover its memory was wiped. All the androids were. They belong to Conflict now.

The android surgeon has no idea who this human is, or even that there was ever a war. It doesn't remember the Humanity AI. But the man is able to show it the nanobots, which it recognizes as its own design. Sensing the human is being truthful, it hacks into the system and learns what really happened. But this paints a target on its back.

From there they must work together to not only escape what's become a hostile population, but also find some way to restore Humanity and stop Conflict, as the latter is now trying to destroy the other AIs too. If Conflict isn't stopped, it'll end up wiping out everything.

That's pretty much as far as I've gotten. I'm also toying with the idea that the two characters fall into a deeper relationship at some point, but I'm undecided if or how it will happen. The android is both androgynous and asexual, and the male was bred to have no sexual function either (no unauthorized breeding is allowed amongst humans; it's actually a fairly repressive system, despite appearing utopic on the surface). But I'd be intrigued to explore something intimate between them, even if it's just a deep emotional vulnerability and a need to hold onto each other tightly in fear of loss.

Sorry, but that's the absolute shortest I could make this!

#just writing things

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seffien · 1 year

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any headcannons for your agents?

oh plenty, but let me keep it as short as i can

cap'n 3 (real name junko 'jun' ishikawa):

country kid who was entranced by inkopolis plaza's unusual (to her) look

was originally super cheerful and peppy before Various Incidents

very creative, but none of the adults in her life ever appreciated it

likes to draw (doesn't do it much now) and bought a bass guitar during the events of splat 1 because she loved squid squad that much

became suuuper close with gramps and the squid sisters (as a matter of fact, the 'jun' nickname came from marie) bc her own 'family' was. um.

being sanitized kind of ruined her a bit. her left eye is a slightly lighter shade than her other one to this day, and the sanitization gave her memory loss, an aversion to food, and general odd behavior for a while

looks menacing, is really kind of tired and also shy

gave 4 her old agent outfit (cape included) since she didn't really need it anymore

still cannot believe she's the captain

very different from her younger, happier, more awake self, but she tries not to think about that.

agent 4 (real name naoki 'masu' masuda):

parents wanted her to be a prodigy, and the pressure they put on her made her snap and run away. most pre-inkopolis square memories are deeply repressed

basically no one gave a shit about her when she first moved to inkopolis except for the splat 2 promo kid with the black v-neck tee. they're still kinda sorta friends

liked flow because she felt like she cared (and she actually kinda did)

pushes herself way too hard, somewhat self-conscious

got a few injuries during hero mode and was hesitant to let marie patch em up

straight up did not speak until callie got saved. still doesn't really talk much.

her and marie weren't super besties at first, the only reason they ever clicked was because they were both sad loners with negative self-esteem

'masu' came from eight, and she's kind of fond of the nickname

agent 8 (real name emiko 'miko' yamasaki):

marina found her real name in the octarian records seen in that one chat room session

actually was in a few kettles, was not very good

never wanted to fight, always wanted to write (poetry, specifically)

learned inkling from 4 and eventually 3

kept thinking 4's first name was masuda (it isn't.)

did not like going outside when she first arrived to the surface

wasn't an artist, but tended to draw hypothetical mem cakes of people she deemed important, like 3 and 4

smiles to cover up The Internal Suffering, almost no one ever buys it because a) it looks very fake and b) she never holds it. as soon as a stranger disappears, so does the smile

along with 3, callie, and marie, she consistently reminds 4 that she's stronger than she thinks and that she matters and isn't useless

terrifyingly good in turf and ranked, even won a championship that off the hook basically begged her to enter. she got a trophy and still thought 'cool i guess. no big deal.'

works at ammo knights in splat 3, and since she knows a thing or two about wounds n stuff from her time in the army, she's also the crew's medic

new 3 (real name veronika 'ronnie' yamada):

chill, goes with the flow, probably the happiest out of all the agents (not even that happy, it's a low bar to clear)

everyman when it comes to every mode (tableturf, turf, ranked, what have you)

cheers up people she's played with between matches if they're sad

oblivious to hiro's sort of obvious crush on her

barely redesigns her locker, and when they do, it's usually to add a sticker

used a fake ID to play turf in the splat 1 days, was tall for her age around that time. she still feels kinda guilty about it

waved back to deep cut post-RotM

found shiver chilling in the alternan ocean with master mega a few days after the events of RotM, got to pet him

a character who's just kind of. well. there

adopted kid of an inkling and an octoling, literally lived in a cabin in the woods. she's still in contact with them

resting face looks like smash ultimate young link's

steph and her are both acquaintances and besties. acquaintabesties. steph took care of them while they were sick and they took care of steph after she slosher machined her way into muscle atrophy (not actually, thankfully)

has a walkman and a boombox. doesn't even care what's official, just buys things from in-universe eBay

#i said i was gonna keep it short.#splatoon #splatoon 2 #octo expansion #splatoon 3 #captain 3 #agent 3 #agent 4 #agent 8 #new agent 3 #asksef #sefsagents

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