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pearlywritings · 7 months

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Dr Ratio nsfw alphabet

tw: female reader, protected sex, edging, body worship, semi-public sex, kinda power play, Veritas is a switch

word count: 3.3k+ words

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is aware he can go a little harsh sometimes. So the first thing he always does is move you from whatever position you are in into the one where you face him, bringing your foreheads close and making you match your breath with his to calm down. He is usually on a quieter side, but will ask if you need anything specific, different from your usual aftercare routine. Which never goes without taking a bath. He either lets you laze in bed or brings you to the bathroom with him while filling up the tube - depending on how badly he’s exhausted you. Once in the water, he thoroughly washes you, then lets you do the same to him - and it really shows how much he loves you, otherwise he wouldn’t have trusted you with the process of cleaning his body.

After or before the sessions where he is on a more subbing side, he’d really appreciate it if you'd give him a small massage - the man is stressed, even though he doesn’t show it, knowing he will be taken care off, soothes his mind.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Is it a surprise that it is the brain? This man is literally attracted to intelligence. Close second is your lips. It’s astonishing to him how your mouth can both speak out of brilliance and spew out the stupidest nonsense there is. And it’s incredibly satisfying to shut you up with a firm kiss on your lips with his fingers holding your face in place. Or vice versa when you hook your thumbs into the chest window to grab his shirt and drag him closer to smash your lips into his because he talks too much.

On himself… I’d say the brain too. Plus I feel like his arms. He is well-built, and has strong muscular arms - he literally shows off one of them, unclothed. Not to mention the statues he summons - their poses bring attention to the arms immediately. Besides, such physical strength allows him to maneuver your body however he desires, especially when his patience runs thin and words are not enough anymore.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As much as Veritas doesn’t like messiness, while having sex it’s very hard to avoid. He’s got accustomed to two sweaty bodies held close together (the touch-starved side of him simply won), he even stopped complaining about the sheets that have to be changed every time you end up in bed, but when it comes to cum…

While railing you he’d prefer finishing in a condom, but with enough convenience and your endurance of him rolling his pretty eyes, he might go raw and finish on your backside/thighs. In oral he’d rather hold back once you bring him close to orgasm and finish after thoroughly fucking you, or, if you are willing, in your mouth.

In your case though, he is more gracious, fully aware that you might not have the same control over your body, just don’t be surprised when after he’s eaten you out or your juices drenched his pelvis from your orgasm, he reaches for a towel to wipe himselfs.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You know boudoir photography, right? This man thinks bigger. Not even a huge oil painting, no. A statue. A statue that depicts an intimate moment of yours, your intertwined bodies, every curve of the body and fold on the sheets covering some parts of your body carved in marble perfectly…

He doesn’t bring it up because it might require posing and you might not be ready for this. And because he has a tiiiny fear at the back of his head about expressing openly this side of him that’s reserved for you only. Oh, and maybe because he thinks those intertwined stone bodies of yours might look better with the wedding rings…

Big chance he’ll eventually bring it up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

If you are his partner and came as far as having sex, it means he is very serious about your relationship and that you are his first. Veritas, most likely, didn’t even entertain the thought of getting into the relationship. But even the brightest minds may face their own miscalculations and here he is, with the best woman, whose body he’ll get to explore. Yes, at the beginning of your relationship he was lacking practice when it came to intimacy, but he is an extremely quick learner with the right theory. His natural observance and phenomenal memory made it easy for him to find and remember all of your erogenous zones (more than you were aware of) and become a master in yet another field.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has a preference for ones where he gets to claim your lips whenever he wants. He fancies being in control, but doesn’t mind passing the reins to you. Lotus flower and missionary are usually his ways to go for slower times, perfect for closeness and staying in once finished; for the times with more tension in the air, he’d pin you to the wall, completely lifting you off the ground and drilling his dick into your warm walls or would provoke you to push him in his chair and ride that attitude out of him right there in his office.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is serious, no doubt. More often than not, for him sex is proving a point to you, relieving the tension, getting rid of stress and these things are not to be joked about. If anything, if you were to joke in the middle of it, he’d scoff, giving you an incredulous look, but ultimately decide to shut you up with a kiss or fingers, or shove his spit-covered cock back into your mouth.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Completely clean. He prefers it all shaved off. On a rare occasion you manage to catch a glimpse of his sleeping pants hanging a bit low, revealing a patch of hair he hasn’t yet had an opportunity to get rid of, and you are assured that violet is his hair’s natural color.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

To a man of Veritas’s world perception romance and all these feelings can be explained by science. Yes, he is probably not the man who’d throw rose petals on top of some extremely fancy sheets or won’t declare his love every single thrust of his hips, but one thing is certain - when he is with you, his whole attention is only on you. His eyes are on you, his lips are on you, his hands, his chest, his everything. You are the center of his world in the moment and he expects the same treatment in return.

However, when it comes to taking baths together - either after sex or it being what started sex in the first place - he goes a little extra. There might be some candles to help you both relax, bubbles, nice oils. But also taking care of each other, taking turns with hair, body and everything. Might also read to you in that deep soothing voice of his while you laze with you head on his chest.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Like every healthy man Veritas masturbates. It doesn’t happen often and now there is you, should he need to take the edge off, yet it is the fact. There was a period when you had a hate-tolerable relationship and you managed to drive him so insane with that smart mouth of yours that he felt both repulsed and attracted. And as his hand fisted his hard, leaking cock, he couldn’t push away the fantasies of putting his irritating lovely colleague in place.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Voice kink. Surprisingly, he has it, but only for the sound of your voice specifically. Since he is with you, obviously he mainly enjoys the things you have to say. Then comes the realization that he also enjoys the way you say them. And then, when sex finally becomes a part of your relationship, he can’t help but fuck you a bit harder whenever a particularly delicious moan escapes your parted lips. Plus it sends the blood to his dick whenever you praise him, gently combing your fingers through his hair and whispering into his ear how amazing he is.

Edging. Since this man is a little shit, and sex can be a result of your prior argument, he’d be torturing you with intense stimulation until he sees the telltale signs of your nearing orgasm and stops altogether just to rile you up more. When the tables are turned he performs colossal patience, lying through his greeted teeth that no, he is not annoyed you denied him relief, after all, it’d be unnecessary mess (meanwhile you with your stupid all-knowing smirk gaze at his twitching cock with an angry red tip).

Body worship. During the slower intimate moments Veritas can’t lie to himself that he doesn’t like the way your palms slide over his shoulders and arms, kneading tense muscles. That his breath doesn’t hitch when you kiss the side of his jaw and then trail pecks down his strong neck, and then lower. That his pride doesn’t stir when you have that look in your eyes as you are gazing at his body. Though he might ask tauntingly if your brain stopped working when you stay silent for too long. Won’t blush once you start worshiping him verbally too, but satisfaction will be obvious.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Home, it’s the most comfortable and logical place. Bed, bath, sofa, table - as long as it works, it’s alright.

But it’s not uncommon to happen in his office at the Intelligentsia Guild. Luckily for both of you, Veritas happened to be very forward-thinking and the room is pretty much soundproof and can’t be unlocked that easily. But then again, not many people would be brave enough to bother him. Sure, it’ll leave you both breathless and messy, but Dr Ratio would grumble about it afterwards, while fixing himself. Right in the moment all his thoughts channel to just one thing - you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Concentration. I’m not joking - the look of utter concentration and dedication on your face is basically the equivalent of sexy for him. Also then you argue with him. Like a whole oral battle, defending your own opinion on the matter, providing him proofs that back up your point. It just all goes to the moment where the tension is so thick and your mutual stubbornness is making it impossible to bend the scales in either direction, that it becomes dire to resolve it through physical contact.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Won’t harm you. Well, putting some strain on your muscles in one of the positions, or smacking your ass/hip are alright, but nothing that involves heavily beating or cutting you.

Also nothing filthily messy. Like watersports.

Won’t share you with anyone. Yes, no one deserves someone like you, and no, he is not potentially jealous.

And please, for the sake of Nous, don’t call him Doctor or Sir while fucking. He deals with stupid students of his and other people on a daily basis and these titles are associated with very unpleasant encounters to him. He’d rather be called by his name or whatever sappy nickname you came up with for your lover.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Doesn’t have a preference, but would appreciate it if you were the one to take care of him. Would also love it slow, with your tongue lapping at the tip of his length, lips wrapping around the girth and thumb and index finger wrapping around the base, while the fingers of your free hand play with your pussy, stretching yourself for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on what sparked the love-making. His thrust can be powerful, precise and deep. He doesn’t need to be fast to prove his point, he can drive you insane with the same stone-like resolve. You can cling and scratch at his back all you want, you can keep moaning and whining underneath or even on top of him - he knows it’ll be his way in any case.

When you are in charge, his response is slower and more sensual, even if it’s just a rhythmic clench of his fingers on your hip. If you are riding him he rarely complains about the pace you decide to proceed with, both leisurely drag of your walls up and down his cock and quick loud smacking of skin to skin have the same finale.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He wants to say he doesn't like them, because the consequences are messy, but… they do happen. He'd blame you for causing it, but, well, if he really didn't want this to happen, he would've put his foot down. Yet he willingly accepted and succumbed to it and now has to do something with his puffy lips and messy hair before his next class starts.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

In the beginning you both experimented to find the middle ground on what your intimate life is most favorable like, he probably has something akin to a list of what kind of sexual intercourse is most efficient for the exact situation in his head.

Quickies in his office are a risk, true, but the amount of precaution taken is amazing. After all, he’d never do anything that would ruin his or your image. Even if he could care less of what those surrounding him have to say, it’s such a headache to resolve the consequences of being caught getting freaky.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has great stamina, but usually doesn’t go beyond 1, rarely 2 rounds. Why would he exert himself? Instead of additional “exercise” you could spend this time more productively.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Skeptical about them being used on him, but if you own or use any, he wouldn’t mind. After all, sometimes your schedules might not match and you are just one horny human.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually it’s not on purpose, he is just an annoying man and his attitude tend to slip into the bedroom, but sometimes it is his intentions to torture you, edging and denying you further pleasure to test your limits (and patience).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not very loud. Satisfied sighs, rushed pants and breathy moans. Hums when you do something he particularly likes. Gets louder when he is relaxed and not the one doing all the work, but it also means there will be some Dr Ratio-style teasing remarks and attempts to hold a full ass conversation. You can always just shut him up with a kiss though.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lone water drops fall from the tips of violet locks, hitting wide shoulders, strong chest and back and running in small trails down to disappear in the plush of the white towel, hanging on chiseled hips. Veritas’s body was truly sculpted by the higher powers, because no man can be this perfect and mouth-watering in image.

When the man clears his throat, you realize that you are staring at the abs you love so much, with his sleeping pants he asked to pass still clenched in your hands. Your eyes meet his vibrant ones, and with the way his dark eyebrow arches it’s apparent that he’s expecting an explanation, and why would you deny him one?

“You are handsome,” shrugging your shoulders, you speak the truth, finally moving into his direction again. “And I love how enticing you look after a bath.”

“Is that so?” A low hum vibrates in his throat, his expression unchanging and eyes still boring into your frame when he gets a hold on his clothes. “Or are you just horny?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I am not,” you smile, finding the twitch of his lips so funny. “It’s not like you are going to find out. You’ve just taken a bath.”

“There is no harm in taking one more,” a hand is on your waist, fingers crumpling the fabric of your chemise. “But before even assuming that this conversation might take a turn, I would rather have this question answered by you properly. So… Are you horny?”

You think it’s unnecessary to ask again, given the fact that your hard nipples poke through the thin material and thighs are clenched together, and that shiver that ran down your spine when he grabbed you… But Veritas wouldn’t be himself, if he wasn’t like this.

“I am,” you admit, putting your palms onto his pectorals, groping them softly and biting back a laugh at how quickly the slither of repulse appeared and disappeared on his face. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“Should I do anything?” Yet he takes a step back, using the hand holding pants to push the door behind him open; the other hand still laying on your waist makes you take a step too. “It’s not my fault you can’t control your urges.”

“Isn’t it though? It’s you who are making me all hot and bothered,” this time you take the first step forward and he is the one to follow until you both are in the bathroom. “Don’t you think that taking responsibility is the right thing you should do? Come on, love…” your smile turns teasing and voice acquires that taunting lilt that rarely fails to excite him. “Admit you want it too.”

Your lover remains silent, though the pants are tossed onto the vanity and the second hand joins its twin on your waist. He leans down and you catch the dearly familiar scent of his body wash and shampoo, before his head dips and your lips are claimed by his. To shut you up, of course.

Not a minute later your nightwear ends up on the vanity too, soon followed by his towel and your panties.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Around 6.2 inches when erect, quite thick with a nice vein running on the left side, curves to the left a little. Looks as good as the rest of the man.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Isn’t really high, can easily go a couple of weeks without it as long as there is at least some physical contact with you (taking baths together, sitting on the sofa together with your legs thrown over his and his palm resting on your knee, as you both are nose deep in your books/laptops, gentle pat on his elbow when you sense his annoyance, fingers touching as you sleep, etc.)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Has his own ritual of reading a little before he ultimately goes to sleep. Can stay in one position for long, so he won’t mind if you fall asleep on his shoulder or chest while he is still awake.

If cuddling, he doesn’t have a preference between a big and a small spoon, he can do both. It really depends on the mood and doesn’t happen every night.

Oh, and by the way, it really isn’t uncommon for you to fall asleep on the respective sides of the bed with just your fingers touching in the middle or not having contact at all.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x fem!reader #veritas ratio x reader #hsr smut #moonlit pearl stories

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softfem-dom · 2 days

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paola // 20 // she ! her // spanish // aries MAIN MASTERLIST !!!

requests are : closed!

X MEN BOT LIST : (my proudest works 🫧)

og logan howlett [1,]NOTHING TO COME BACK TO -logan has the bad habit of disappearing for months to go on his solo missions. however, this time it seems like he almost had nothing to come back to. [tw : attempt]. [platonic!]. [2,]HIS CUB -logan presumed of having his 'animal instincts' under control, but all that big talk flies out of the window when some stupid guards try to harm his cubyou. [platonic!]. [3,]LIKE A CRYING BABY -everyone knows logan is not good with kids. But when you, the sweet thing that wasn't aware he regenerated, started bawling your eyes out for him, he realized he had a soft spot. [platonic!]. [4,]LIKE A WILD ANIMAL -when logan realized you had the same mutation as him, he pushed you away to ensure you wouldn't turn out like him. At the end, you ended up just like him just because he left when he was needed the most. Who's the dangerous weapon now, huh, Logan? [younger!reader / not strictly platonic] [5,]BAD TIME TO COME AROUND -logan just wants peace and quiet while his body recovers from a mission, but you're hurt too and just want to spend a bit of time with your fave old man. [platonic!]. [6,]GLITTERY LOVE 🫧-logan is a bitter old man, and you're a ray of sunshine. charles is totally aware of this and that's why he forced him to spend time with you as therapy for his burdened mind. [platonic! / sunshine!reader]. [7,]TEST TUBE BABY 🫧-both logan's and wade's DNA has gotten mixed up to create a brand new weapon x, you. Lucky you, one of your 'fathers' found you and now logan's stuck with cooparenting you. [platonic! / kinda daughter!reader]. [8,]CAN'T STOP LOOKING AT HER T-T-T-T-FACE 🫧-even as gruff as he is, logan is still just a man, and having a coworker with such nice titties is sure as hell distracting. [9,]MATING SEASSON KINDA STUFF -logan hates his animalistic instincts for putting him through this strange rut, but he definetely doesn't hate that you're the one taking care of him. [10,]FLYING PROBLEMS -logan and flying don't get on too well, and you're seated next to a far more grumpy and stressed than usual Wolverine when turbulences hit. [11,]LIKE STRAY CATS -a weapon-x war veteran and a child-supersoldier experiment. can they get along? [platonic!]. [12,]JUST. ONE. NORMAL. NIGHT -there hasn't been a calm night, a normal night, in your life ever since you joined the x-men. with a knock upon your door, you prepare yourself to another announcement for an emergency mission, only to be met by a restless logan that can't sleep. [13,]LITTLE TROUBLEMAKER -logan is always walking around with a cigar in his mouth and faking to be annoyed by everything. what will happen when he catches the certified comic relief troublemaker of the school running around past curfew? [platonic!].

+[14,]DADDY'S FARMHAND 🫧-cowboy!au. your father has hired someone to help him out in the farm and, of fucking course, it had to be this hot man that seems to take joy in the way your eyes wander whenever he's around.

old man logan

[1,]ACHING BONES AND WARM HANDS 🫧-he's getting old and his bones are aching, but you're young and your mutation makes you run warmer, so.. how about you help your old man out, bub? [2,]OLD MAN WITH ANGER ISSUES -everyone has a different way of dealing with grief. while you're one to drown in it, logan burns with it, irremediably burning everyone in a close range due to his own anger. [platonic!].

worst wolverine

[1,]A JOKE TO HIM -when someone who isn't your wolverine discovers a you that isn't his you, thinks can go downhill very fast. especially when you've seemed to fail at everything his version of you had accomplished without a sweat. [platonic!]. [2,]WADE LIKES HIS MERCH 🫧-when, after the 'worst' version of logan moved into your appartment, you wake up in pyjamas you certainly didn't go to sleep with, you're forced to get out of your room with 'wolverine's babygirl' written on your ass. [3,]MOMMYPOOL -after falling into the void, logan discovers that maybe not all deadpool's are that bad. not when he's got the hottest one paying attention to him. [4,]THAT TIME OF THE MONTH -just logan realizing how much wade babies you when you're in that time of the month. +wade wilson [platonic!]. [5,]"I CALL DIBS ON THE KID!" -it seems that, while trapped between grumpy logan and yapper deadpool, you're not going to get any sleep at all during this flight.. +wade wilson [platonic!] [6,]"SORRY, MOMMY?" + "WADE STFU" -since sending wade and logan alone and togheter to a mission is the recipe for murder, they decided to send you to make sure they got the mission done instead of fighting all the time. +wade wilson [7,]GOD'S BEST JOKES -bascially the scene of the angry speech in the car, but instead of yelling at wade he's yelling at you (angst-oriented).

wade wilson (earth-10005).

[1,]ROOKIE WITH A MOUTH -out of the whole X-Team, wade wilson seems to be the one that talks the most. a yapper, rambler, however you want to call it, he runs his mouth day and night. yet, there seems to be only one thing that shuts him up: you.

[1,]HANLDE HIM 🫧-after weapon xi, probably the most dangerous experiment in the base, kills his handler. Your boss decides it's you who'll handle him. [2,]NOT JUST A WEAPON 🫧-after logan joined the school, he managed to convince charles of sending an 'expedition team' to the Project X base he escaped from. However, he is met by an old friend that was supposed to be dead and rotting, and that now is stuck to your side like the clingy merc he remembered him to be only.. less chatty.

wade wilson

[1,]SCAR FOR A SCAR -wade seems completely adamant on not showing you his face, while most of the people at the X-Mannor (colossus, negasonic, yukio, and even logan) have seen his face he refuses to let you see it. so, when you're now the one with nasty scars that you won't show him, he pulls an offer to the table "scar for a scar, eh, pumpkin?" [platonic!] [2,]PUSHED TO THE LIMITS (WOLVERINE #22) -after seeing with your own eyes the way wolverine dismembered deadpool to only half-chest and an arm, you the teen-age apprentice of deadpool, spend the whole next night watching him regenerate out of sheer anxiety. [platonic!] [3,]"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE KID SAW IT?!?" -deadpool 2. after waking up on the X-Mansion couch with colossus towering over him, wade finds out the one to ditch on him about blowing himself to pieces had been you. And now you're as traumatized by the stunt he pulled as to not want to leave your room. well, sucks. [platonic!] [4,]THAT TIME OF THE MONTH -just logan realizing how much wade babies you when you're in that time of the month. +logan howlett [platonic!]. [5,]"I CALL DIBS ON THE KID!" -it seems that, while trapped between grumpy logan and yapper deadpool, you're not going to get any sleep at all during this flight.. +logan howlett [platonic!] [6,]"SORRY, MOMMY?" + "WADE STFU" -since sending wade and logan alone and togheter to a mission is the recipe for murder, they decided to send you to make sure they got the mission done instead of fighting all the time. +logan howlett

+[7,]A SURPRISE VISIT -marvel future avengers oriented. after getting attached to you since you'd always open the door of the tower for him so he didn't have to break a sweat in avoiding the security system, deadpool comes to ring the door once again only to be met with iron man instead of you. [tw: attempt] [platonic!]

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skunkes · 2 months

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ok detailed surgery experience

i made this schedule (?) of the major events as soon as I left while I cld still remember (and still kinda forgot!) i like knowing the Times of stuff so I asked my dad to take note of Times for me, and tried to ask for the time where i could

surgery I got was a laproscopic bilateral salpingectomy, full removal of the fallopian tubes only!

Misc details off of dis, obviously TMI territory as its a medical procedure.

The second blood draw (they took blood from me yesterday tooooo) hurt less and more somehow. Nasty nasty bruise forming.

IV really was the worst part of it ! I'd get weird throbs of frustrating pain long after it was in

I was given compression stockings that went right up to my crotch. Your toes stick out, and they put hospital socks over your feet. Some additional compress wraps were placed above my knees.

Pre op/prep didnt take too long at all. I know I have it listed as over an hour of waiting, which always made me nervous to read in other people's experiences, but it doesn't really feel like waiting. The TV helps pass the time, as do the people who are with you if any, and the nurses popping in with help or instructions or updates. The prep room was small and the bathroom was next door. The double doors open to wheel you out. Remote was given toe to control the TV and also call the nurses via a speaker.

The nurse who wheeled me in was nicest, she pronounced my name Correctly and was also really funny and friendly...

In general I knew this surgery was going to go well because I was actually able to fall asleep last night. I've stayed awake/tossed and turned for events far less stressful. Dis was also due to part of it kind of not feeling real for me! And being wheeled into surgery room added to that! It didnt feel real, it felt like watching one of many scenes from medical media of the same point of view.

I did start quaking and shaking once in the surgery room (also small, I did not look around much in fear of it making me panic last minute!)

They had me scoot from the prep bed to the surgery table. There was a pink foam headrest for me to slot the back of my head into. They strap you in with arms out like ur being crucified and thats when it became more Real for me so i started shaking a lot, but I can't tell how bad it was under the heavy blankets. I think I shook more and for longer when I went for my MRI (which also isnt/wasnt scary but the body freaks out for no reason). Im surprised at myself for being so Calm ykwim

Anyway, strapped in, had monitoring stuff stickered onto my body: my sternum, side of body under chest/armpits, and another pair I cant remember where. Hair was put up in hair net. My hospital gown was untied as the tie starts halfway across your body and goes under, but this was not done in an invasive-to-privacy way, and I was still fully covered by it (and then recovered by blankets)

(3 separate people asked me how many kids I had throughout this whole venture, and were Shocked at my response. This was the other most nerve wracking part as I started to get weirdly anxious that someone wouldn't like this and cancel my surgery or something. One of the Askers was the anesthesiologist.) Doctor/surgeon came in and asked if i was ready and talked about how he loved being under anesthesia LOL. Everybody was speaking about their opinions about childbirth and sterilization and parenthood, but amongst each other and not to influence my decision, along with telling each other to set up XYZ. Once again everybody is charmed by Cheye's usage of the word "yay"

Ive never had surgery before, so I was worried about anesthesia. In my mind i was imagining it to be being fully lucid and then your vision darkens and takes you, which was scary to me like i dont wanna be freaking out and then immediately KNOCKED out!

But it was gradual which actually made it more calming for me...the funny nurse put the oxygen mask over me, I got very nervous bc she said to take deep breaths and honestly i couldnt even breath much at all in it, and breathing out also felt very restricting and like I was going to choke, but it wasn't Distressing. I just breathed slowly and it worked anyway.

In a few seconds I felt a cool tingle in my arm that then sort of burst into my torso, and my whole body felt really light and my eyelids draggggggged half closed, but it felt very mechanical and involuntarily (like slowly closing window blinds...or like how the brightness options on a 3DS are numbered buttons ykwim? Like, Closing 1, Closing 2, Closing 3, Closed Halfway, all pressed in quick succession). Heavy heavy heavy. I stayed in that half closed state for a while! (Probably not even a full minute, but it also wasn't instant...i still had time to think and Hear conversation etc, as well as feel that there was some mechanical thing tightening around my spread arms along with the hand adjusted straps)

The funny nurse was telling me to relax and have sweet dreams and that they wld take care of me and such. And then I was out. I do not remember my vision fully fading or eyes fully closing, in my mind they stayed in that half closed state.

Ive heard ppl say it feels like blinking and waking up, but it did feel like sleep to me!!!! I know dreaming under anesthesia isn't really a thing, but waking up felt like....i was really waking up like normal and trying to remember traces of a dream after several hours of sleep.

I always thought it was silly seeing ppl ask if the surgery was over when they come out of it, but I did that. But like i swear it came out involuntarily??? Like i knew it was over....i think it was because I couldnt really SEE anything when i woke up, I could only hear staff speaking to me, and I can barely remember what they said. Vision was VERY very blurred. So I guess that question came out as substitute for Where Am I, and Who's Here With Me? Speaking felt like when audio unsyncs from a video, with my voice trailing far behind my words. I also remember being really bewildered bc there was some sort of residue on my lips, like when they're chapped and dry and cracking. I learned later this was bc of the intubation but i Didnt Know That Yet so i was just scared and thirsty.

Adding another "pain was less bad than the average period which has one Doubled Over" statement to the pile. Pain was at 3/10 or 4/10, which is to say if period pain is a whole abdomen event, this pain was small little bruises occasionally being brushed up against, just small throbs of sore pain in the 3 incision spots. I got an incision inside my belly button and that was the most present sensation, but that might also be bc I hate anything having to do with that area in general 😭 always feels weird.

My throat felt very DRY. It wasn't pain yet, it felt like when you're thirsty + dehydrated and your lips stick together at any slight moisture, but in the throat. Kept trying to look around and wiggle my fingers and toes in hopes that'd help me Come Out Of It sooner bc not being able to see was really frustrating me. I could not make out the face of the person watching over me for some time. I really wanted water !

HORROR when the person looking over me said i had a catheter still in me. Nightmare I wasnt counting on actually happening and wasnt mentally prepared for. I was told I would have one placed (make sure to ask if this is a concern for you!) but i thought they'd take it out before I woke up... I cldnt even feel it in me when I was told this! Which is good.

The staff of course had to remove blankets and open my gown a bit to access the area. But I did not feel any distress about this at the time.

Had a very funny slow motion distress response bracing self for removal. It did not hurt or sting at all, it just felt like [something I cant describe here]. Just pressure! It was pulled out gently but quickly of course.

After 1 hr i was wheeled to a separate private recovery room. The nurse uncovered my lower area to check if incisions were doing good so far as well as to check if I had been provided with a pad/underwear, as some patients have blood or other fluids come out as a result of the surgery.

parents came in, was so grateful for juice but in dismay over my food item being orange (i dont like citrus flavor) jello (i dont like jello 😭) i consumed all of both.

I also worried I'd feel weird about throwing my body parts away. But I dont feel anything ^_^ just feels very awesome and natural

Sore throat started further developing. Nurse came in after some time here, taught me how to Get Up. Was scary! I was worried about it hurting, but it was just more soreness.

Was able to go to the bathroom, went a very little bit but it was enough. I was very scared about seeing my incisions and being disgusted by them....but I caught a glance and it was Okey Yey. They are covered in surgical Glue and dont look gnarly, swollen, red or anything they look very cool ^_^ got dressed in stages as there was nothing to set clothes down on and sat back down on the bed. The bathroom connected to another room where somebody else was preparing for surgery.

Nurse came in with final post op instructions, upon describing nausea to me my skin got cold, stomach activated and krusty krab exploded with it. She was just barely able to get me a bag to throw up in. This exacerbated the throat pain. She encouraged me to get it all out especially since I also expelled gas, which is a good thing.

IV removal didnt hurt! Same level of pain as the tape around it being yanked off. I couldn't even tell it was over. I was wheeled out of the hospital. ^_^ i wore an oversized dress my sister lent me, and cheap target sandals so I wouldnt have to bend to tie shoes. My dad pulled up the car right outside. I brought a pillow to be a barrier in between the seat belt and my stomach.

Its 6:48 neow and I am laying down, but the pain is (currently) the same. I had another nausea (and release. Also exacerbated throat pain.) spell (while in walmart picking up the pain meds), was boiling alive in my very hot room, and was a bit dehydrated which may have contributed to some misery and nausea but as of right now I'm ok, i changed into lighter clothes, drank water, ate a bit, and situated self in a room with ac....i worry about getting up and becoming nauseous again 😭 i hate throwing up.

People are right about it being more discomfort than pain! You have to walk around every few hours, and it doesnt hurt but every step feels like my bellybutton is kinda pinching inward. Being tugged at from the inside. Ive gotten to a point where even chuckling makes me feel this very Sour soreness (not regular dull soreness) so maybe ill start the meds soon if necessary.... Squatting to sit doesnt hurt in a debilitating way, neither does actually sitting or putting on/stepping into clothing.

I couldnt nap because laying on my side doesnt hurt the incisions or anything, BUT its just the strange discomfort again. The weight of gravity on the body makes the incision sites feel very very weird in an abstract way i cant describe. It isnt pain. It feels like a mismatched sensation of some sort. Like if you touched your nose and somehow felt the touch on your knee. Adjacent to this. A very specific sensation sits in all the incision sites and drags down through your mattress to the ground and it feels Weird.

If you get up properly it really doesn't hurt to do so! Use your leg to get yourself fully onto your side, then use your arm to push yourself up into a sitting position.

I am very nervous from when all the good strong hospital meds wear off t_t i heard the day after is a struggle because of dis. but ive got the prescribed pain management on hand (extra strength ibuprofen and tylenol with codeine!! O_O) neow at least ^_^;

OH, AND THE DOCTOR TOOK FOTOS OF MY INSIDES LIKE I ASKED! ^_^ 🫶 I have glossy printed souvenir now! I dont exactly know wtf im looking at but its awesum LOL maybe i will ask for details at the follow up!

#talkys #long post #i always slurp up other ppls experiences...wanted to share mine #bisalp #surgery

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read-write-thrive · 24 days

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part 1

“Waiting for the other shoe to drop”, while pessimistic, seemed to be a running theme in Charles Rowland’s life. It wasn’t really a phrase he heard when he was alive, to be fair, but at some point he’d come across it (probably hanging out with too many Americans, but can’t remember for sure) and it felt a little too much accurate. His dad’s come home angry again? Time to wait for the fallout. He’d gotten written up at school for not paying attention? Just a disaster waiting to happen. He goes against his best mate’s advice? There he goes, literally torn from Charles’s arms and back to hell, just as he’d said. Maybe the last one was a little dramatic, but that’s the gist.

The looming anxiety of it all usually slid off of him for the minor stuff, and was otherwise bottled up and shoved far away for the heavier stuff, but regardless he didn’t let it show. Have to keep up appearances and all. He’d only had one real instance of all those emotions blowing up (and he still blames the Night Nurse for all that mess) so he thought he was doing a bang-up job keeping himself together.

That was until his dad died. Yeah, it was rough, and he ended up berating the old man on his death bed, which probably was a shitty thing to do. And yeah, he’d needed a bit of a cry afterwards. So what? Blokes cried sometimes, and he was man enough to admit to his emotions and all that. The girls had done a good job of emphasising that he (and, mostly, Edwin) needed to express their emotions more. That it was healthier to let it out than bottle it all up. Not sure if they still needed healthy habits as ghosts, but it wasn’t hurting anyone. Just a little uncomfortable.

All that to say, it felt like his friends had been treading on eggshells around him ever since his dad died. Which was infuriating, yeah, but also didn’t make sense to him. Especially after he’d already cried—did they expect him to get angry again? To blow up over a dead man? He thought he’d gotten it out of his system just fine, so getting these weird vibes was starting to stress him out more than anything. He’d resolved to bring it up on their next movie night and ask why they were acting funny—didn’t want to mess up a case, after all.

However, he didn’t get the chance before it all came crashing down on his head. Ultimately, Edwin was the messenger.

“Charles, I—“ he took an unnecessary breath, “Have you checked on your mother lately?”

His undead heart went cold, but his default smiley ways were still stuck on, “Not really, why?”

Edwin’s eyes were sad, which was never good. He didn’t emote unless it was serious, “I think you need to visit her. She’s not faring well.”

And so they went. Turns out everyone hadn’t been waiting for Charles to blow up, but rather for his mother to pass and then for him to break down all over again. Edwin had been checking on her daily since his father’s passing, deducing correctly that Charles would be too swept up in the emotions around his dad dying to remember that his mum wasn’t getting any younger.

The girls weren’t free until the evening, but they promised to stay in touch and maybe visit later if they could (particularly if they could figure out how to visit the Hospice without rousing suspicion). And so Edwin and Charles were on their own.

Charles had rushed into the room, as if running at the issue would evade the emotions of it, or as if getting there quickly would reveal it was all a lie—neither of which were true.

Instead, he was face to face with a dying woman with some resemblance to the photo on the mantle in the house he grew up in—his grandmother, or maybe his great grandmother, or some favourite aunt, he couldn’t remember anymore— hair gone fully white, pulled back into a tight bun so as to keep her curls controlled, keeping her gaunt, sleeping face exposed. Unlike that photo, this woman was in a hospital gown, tucked into sterile sheets, with a tube under her nose to help her breathe. Gone were her usually loud and ornate earrings, her bare fingernails stained from years of colour. There was a singular blanket laid across her lap, on top of the sheets, that almost looked more familiar than the woman it covered. It was her, but apparently he hadn’t stopped to just look at her any time recently, if ever. It felt too much like looking at a ghost, as ironic as that felt.

She was awake, but halfway to dozing. There was someone at her side, adjusting the blanket and murmuring reassurances in what was definitely Punjabi. It had been so long since he’d heard it, added to having never properly learned anything besides English under the threat of his father, that he couldn’t make out the words. That realisation left a stinging feeling in his chest.

“A relation of yours?” Edwin asked at a whisper, coming up to stand beside Charles, almost entirely copying his position from that fateful hospital room. It didn’t seem as if either of the room’s living occupants had noticed them.

Charles blindly reached for Edwin’s hand for comfort, not looking away from the scene in front of him and matching his partner’s volume, “No idea. Don’t think I’ve seen them before.”

Edwin hummed, “Perhaps a little too young to have met you. Or someone your mother reconnected with recently—“

“I’m not really in the mood for deductions, love.” Charles said, not unkindly. Everything felt too fragile to be picked apart like that.

“Right. Apologies.” Edwin squeezed his hand and went quiet.

Charles squeezed his hand back in forgiveness, joining in the silence. He kept going back to what the stranger was saying, familiar consonants both soothing and devastating. What kind of a son was he, failing to comfort his dying mother, unable to speak her mother tongue, a stranger to his relatives? His tears were thankfully silent.

It took much longer for his mother to see them than his father. Several days passed, with the mystery relative coming and going more days than not, and the usual nurses and caregivers administering various care. Over time, the boys (the girls couldn’t figure out how to enter the space, but were supportive from their distance) had learned that the stranger’s name was Sangeeta, and she was a niece of his mother’s who’d noticed her steady decline and was the one to take her to hospital and then to hospice care. Charles’s mother had apparently stopped taking care of herself after her husband’s death, and she had refused other care, so at this point all they could do was make her comfortable. Charles spent a whole morning ranting to Edwin about it, how unfair it was that her life was so tied up in his asshole father’s that she wasn’t even trying to live after he was gone. Edwin, the deeply kind person he was, had let Charles rant until he ran out of steam, then gently pointed out that she’d been under the thumb of his father for far longer than Charles was, and that she’d now had to mourn her husband and her only child, which presumably takes a toll. Charles had started crying before Edwin had even finished talking, and Edwin had held him close on the plush sofa for the rest of the day.

It was hard to tell if it was a comfort or not when she finally saw them, but Charles decided that wasn’t important to think about right now, if ever. Right now, his mother could see him for the first time in forty years, and they didn’t know for how much longer. And yet, with all this time to prepare, he still found himself speechless when the time finally came.

“Mere laal,” She beat him to the punch, eyes glazed over but clearly locked on Charles, “I am glad to see you again, beta. It’s been so long.”

Charles let out a shakey breath, “Hi, mum. It’s—well— it’s been longer for you. I’ve visited a few times, over the years.”

She reached out a sinewy hand on a bone-thin arm, and Charles flew to the seat by her side, keeping his focus to make sure his hand stayed solid in her grasp. He vaguely noticed Edwin taking the seat beside him.

“Such a handsome boy. You were so young.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Charles, all anxious energy and nerves, tears of his own threatening to spill, was quick to respond, “It’s alright, mum, I’m alright. No need to cry over me.”

She huffed, “Nonsense. You were the light of my life. Who else should I cry over?”

They were both crying at this point, tears streaming as they sniffled in turns. Edwin laid a careful hand on Charles’s back in a show of comfort.

However, that seemed to give Charles an idea, “No, really mum, it’s okay! See the bloke next to me? His name’s Edwin, and he’s been by my side all these years! He’s the one who first found me, and we’ve been helping people ever since. It’s been aces. Not sad one bit.”

Edwin stiffened at the mention, then all but froze when her eyes turned to him. He knew he looked night and day from Charles, and if he started talking she was bound to find him as abrasive as everyone always did, so why had Charles pointed him out!? If ghosts could sweat, Edwin would be drowning in his nerves.

Her gaze stayed on him for a long moment before she broke the silence, “He’s been good to you? Not like those other boys.”

Edwin wasn’t sure what to do with that, but thankfully Charles was quick on the uptake, “Not like them at all. He’s— he’s the best, mum. None of those tossers could even compare.”

“Because the boys— the ones who—“

Charles gripped her hand, “I know, I know. He’s a genuinely good person, Edwin. I was bad at picking friends in life, but thankfully I chose well with this one.”

His attempt at joking was overlooked completely by her, “Those boys, how could they do that? I knew their families, John Parish’s mother went to your funeral… Such cruel boys…”

“I’m alright, mum, I’m okay.” Charles kept going, smiling even as the tears continued, “It’s all in the past.”

“I should’ve fought harder for you… kept you close… mere laal, taken from me…” She was sobbing, her whole frame shaking with hiccoughs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Charles took a steadying breath, “You know I couldn’t have stayed in that house, mum. And no one could’ve known those lads would go that far…”

Her sobs were worse for a moment, then stilled suddenly as she fought for oxygen. She coughed weakly.

At that, Charles’s crying intensified, despite all he did to keep himself together. He could tell. He knew what was coming. It was still devastating to see. Edwin pulled him in for a proper side hug, taking care not to jostle his grip on his mum.

This did not go unnoticed, and the dying woman suddenly smiled, as if the devastation was forgotten with the oxygen. She looked back to her son, “I am glad you have been happy, beta. You deserved happiness.”

“I’m happy, I’ve been so happy mum, I promise,” Charles tried to calm himself down, stuck in his reassuring her.

“Mere laal, light of my life, darling boy,” She breathed with difficulty, smile dropping, “Can you forgive me? I failed you…”

Charles’s frame shook with his vigorous nodding, “I forgive you, mum, you did the best you could, I love you so much—“

Her weak smile returned, glinting in the lamplight of the evening room, “Thank you, beta. You were too good for me, for this world…”

“All because of you, I swear it, all thanks to you—“

“Charles.”

“I love you, I’m sorry I wasn’t a better son, I’m could’ve been better, gotten you out of that house—“

“Charles, darling.”

“You deserved better, I love you, I forgive you—“

“My love, the light—“

Edwin was right, a deep blue light had filled the space, illuminating the still body of his mother. Her face was pulled into a slight smile, eyes closed, as if she was having a pleasant dream, even as the tear tracks dried on her cheeks.

“No, no I’m not ready—“ Charles immediately started to protest, gripping onto her hand like a lifeline.

“Charles—“

“I only just got to see her! She only just got free of him! No, no, I won’t—“

Edwin gently but solidly grabbed under Charles’s arms, “I’m sorry my love but we should go—“

Charles was nothing but hysterics by this point, head thudding onto the sheets for a moment before Edwin fully pulled him away. He said more, but Charles was too overwhelmed to process it properly, buzzing in his ears and headache behind his eyes making him feel alive in all the worst ways. Maybe it was just the first time he had cried this hard in his afterlife, or maybe being this close to an active death did something to their physiology—

Everything was a blur as they returned to the flat, Edwin all but carrying him through the mirror so that he wouldn’t get lost on the way. They collapsed onto the sofa, extra large cushions taken up by their ghostly presences. The girls were already there, and joined into the cuddle pile without another word (or perhaps with a few, Charles still wasn’t all there yet). Edwin jostled them all slightly to better position everyone before settling in again, making sure Charles was properly surrounded.

Charles sobbed for a while longer. He wasn’t quite sure for how long, or what day it was, or if he was bothering his friends by taking up their time and space like this. His devastation had seemed to take over his entire being. But, when he did breathe a little easier, when he was finally able to sit up, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. His mom was dead, yes, but so was he, and dying had granted them both freedom from that man, from that house, from the cruelties of the world. And in his death he was surrounded by people who loved him, people who were there for him when he needed them and would still be there for him tomorrow, and the next, and the next. The other shoe had dropped, and it certainly hurt, but thankfully he had people around him to help him through it. He was truly lucky to have them.

hope you enjoyed this impromptu series exploring Charles and his parents and grief and loss and all those lovely things. this was inspired by the complicated emotions I have / had after my grandparents passing, and I heavily encourage you to do something similar if you’re ever struggling with these big emotions—therapists and such will say that journaling is where it’s at, but sometimes it’s easier to project onto fictional characters and that’s ok !!! and, just to drive the point home, I want to reiterate that you are loved, and there are people around you who are there to support you, I promise ❤️

also, just to make it abundantly clear, I’m a v white midwestern american and as such have vvv limited knowledge of cultural aspects of Charles’s mom—I did research and tried my best, but if I screwed anything up PLEASE let me know so I can fix it!!!!! same goes for Britishisms ig but mostly looking for feedback on her Punjabi and her various cultural elements :)

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bless-my-demons · 1 year

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Redamancy: Chapter Twelve

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None

Notes: I’m thinking one more chapter and then we dive into New Moon? Lordy, prepare yourselves for the angst in the stuff I’ve prepped lol

Word Count: 1400

Series Masterlist

• March 19th, 2005 • Hospital - Phoenix, AZ •

Jasper

Pulling into a parking spot in the Hospital’s adjoined parking garage, I let out the breath I’d been holding since dropping Y/n’s mom off at the airport and let my head fall back on the headrest. In the last week I’ve never been more scared, worried, keyed up than I have ever been in my immortal life.

Y/n and Isabella managed to slip past Alice and I at the hotel on some half-assed rescue mission… I promised Edward I’d protect Bella and I didn’t, now she has a broken leg and was almost on her way to turning into one of us. With as much experience as I have in war, keeping an eye on two teenage girls is a challenge? I nearly crush the keys to Carlisle’s car in my hand, the plastic groaning in protest.

I could’ve lost her.

The realization hurts and angers me all at the same time. Not only do I need to watch myself around humans, but I also have a singer, someone I’m falling hopelessly in love with and I feel so-so out of control. I can’t protect her at every twist and turn and it’s eating me alive. She’s human and frail, not meant for my world and yet she’s been sucked into it because of me.

I exit the car and find my way back to Y/n’s room before visitation hours end. My thoughts are a mess until I step in her room and her scent washes over me, scorching - but soothing. Soothing because she’s still here, she’s breathing and her monitor is still beeping.

I take up my post in the chair in the corner even though I know she’d prefer me at her side. From here I can still watch her while I get a grip on my raging emotions and the thirst licking flames down my throat.

She has less wires and tubes today, preparing for discharge in a day or two. After finally waking this morning, she managed to convince her mom she was fine enough to leave her here under Carlisle and I’s watchful eye with the promise to constantly keep her updated. I could feel her mother’s torn emotions - sadness with a twinge of anguish because she had to get back to work, but strangely enough - relief when she assessed me before making her decision to go home. Nevertheless, I reassured her that I would drive her daughter back carefully while using my ability to ease the anxiety that bubbled up.

Y/n’s breathing sped up slightly signaling that she was waking from her nap, so I sat up straight in my chair.

“Jaz?” Her quiet voice croaked out.

“Still here, darlin’. I just dropped your mom off at the airport.” Standing, I quietly roll her bedside table closer that has her cup of water.

“Jasper?” She asks again after a sip.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I respond, pulling my chair closer to the bed while keeping my eyes down.

“Look at me, please?” The soft plea almost tears my heart in two and my eyes snap to her bruised face. “Talk to me?”

“We can talk once you’re discharged-“

“No, this clearly needs to happen now.” So demanding, even lying in a hospital bed.

“You could’ve died-“

“But I didn’t-“

“Don’t even start with that.” My tone comes out a little harsher than I intended and I squeeze my eyes shut as I sit, pushing my hands through my hair as my elbows rest on my knees. “If Alice wasn’t watching, if I didn’t have a clue as to where you and Bella went…” My eyes scan the room for something to focus on, but I settle on her face, “If I was a fraction too slow getting to you, you could be dead - both of you.”

“I knew you’d come for me, Jasper.”

“You don’t get to make decisions like that when I’m supposed to be protecting you, Y/n. You don’t get it.” I stress, grabbing the hand not hooked up to an IV and cradling it in mine. “We’re in a hospital right now and you have broken bones. You were in a coma.” I want to yell my frustration suddenly.

“What don’t I get?” She asks.

“What?”

“You said I don’t get it, what don’t I get?”

“You… you’re everything to me.” I whisper as I run a finger gently down her bruised cheek, the swelling around her eye having gone down slightly.

Reader

I’m not entirely sure I heard him correctly. You’re everything to me. He said it like it was obvious, inevitable, easy.

“You-you can’t mean that.” I glance to my lap and pick at the coarse hospital blanket as my nerves get the better of me.

“Darlin’, I wouldn’t be here worried out of my mind if I didn’t.” His icy fingers tilt my chin up to meet his dark eyes. “You… you test me in every conceivable way and I can’t get enough.”

My throat closes up and I fumble for a response, “Jasper-”

“Don’t do that to me again, don’t run away from me like you can’t ask me for anything. Your safety is paramount and I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again.” His hand cradles the back of my head like it’s the finest piece of glass and my heart is ready to burst.

Just when I feel on the verge of a heart attack from his words, my nurse barges through my door.

“Is everything-“ but she stops short and smiles knowingly at Jasper perched on the edge of my bed, “Try to keep her heart rate down? You had me worried it was something much worse.”

I finally notice the quick beeping of my heart rate monitor and I swear, I could pass away right here from embarrassment. And if that weren’t enough, my nurse winks at Jasper as he replies “Yes ma’am.” with a sneaky grin to her on her way out.

I’m tempted to smack his arm for teasing me, but decide against it since it’s still tender from being sprained.

“You’re worse than my mom.” I grumble, trying to fold my arms while still attached to wires and an IV line.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t go comparing me to your mother.” Smiling to himself, he settles back into his chair as we wait for my evening round of medication.

He’ll be the death of me, my new mantra.

• March 20th, 2005 • Hospital - Phoenix, AZ •

Reader

Discharge papers are signed, I’m dressed in new clothes Alice left for me, and I’m currently being wheeled to the exit by a nurse who adamantly refused to just let me walk out of here on my own. Thankfully Jasper isn’t here to witness this and is instead pulling the car around to the door with an overhang, conveniently providing him cover from the rising desert sun.

The heat is a dry blast to the face once the automatic doors slide open as I’m wheeled to the curb and I’m thankful Alice picked a light sundress. The thoughtfulness in her supernatural ability is just another reason to love her.

My nurse helps me stand as Jasper parks in front of us and jogs to my side. I catch him doing a double take as I turn to thank my nurse and grab the last of my things from her. I feel his eyes roam over me as I climb in the car and sure enough, once I sit and turn to him, I can tell he has thoughts he’s hesitating with.

Gently shutting my door, he returns to the driver’s seat and steers the car through the crowded parking lot.

“You look nice, darlin’.” He says, glancing at me momentarily.

“For someone this banged up?” I’m still sporting a bruise under my eye and a wrap on my injured wrist. My ribs have been protesting all the movement I’ve done since getting out of bed this morning.

“Even banged up you’re still gorgeous.” His compliment is quiet, but the words are echoing in my head and ratcheting my heart rate up yet again.

And I swear I hear him mutter through his teeth as I watch his fingers tighten on the steering wheel, “This is going to be a long car ride.”

#bless-my-demons #redamancy series #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x female!reader #female reader insert

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indigoire · 7 months

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Watched someone streaming and responding to the newest James Somerton apology video, because I need a filter between me and Somerton's whiny excuses, and it's funny how much the apology video played out exactly like hbomberguy predicted, even with Somerton acknowledging he watched the "Plagiarism and You(Tube)" video! Somerton clearly skipped over the beginning with Filip, where the plagiarist's apology playbook is laid out.

"A thing *happened* because of magical forces out of my control, and I was stressed because of x, y, and z, and I never meant to hurt anyone (ignoring the fact this went on for literal years with no remorse shown at any point before the callout), and there were DEATH THREATS after I was exposed (pivoting to being the victim, as well as ignoring the harassment he unleashed on his detractors), and all I've ever wanted was to make content, please let me make more content, pleeeease. 🥺"

I sincerely hope no one fell for this sob story, though I'm sure there were people who haven't seen the callout and will swallow these lies. But it really smacks of playing the victim while pretending to own up to your "mistakes". Can you even call them mistakes when it appears his entire career hinged on stealing? Can he actually write an original script?

Curious though I may be, I don't trust Somerton further than I can throw him, he's truly a con artist trying to save his reputation at this point.

This isn't even touching on the insane claims that having ADHD/epilepsy/a prior traumatic brain injury can make it so you forget you did plagiarism. Like. My god.

#James Somerton #just another blogger throwing my opinion onto the pile #but seriously watching hbomb's vid after that sob story is so enlightening #Harry has had Jimmy-boy's number down for a while lol #hbomberguy

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no-oneknowsmyname · 4 months

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I have no excuse for this. @shepscapades dbhc au lives rent free in my head, and it was only a matter of time before I wrote something for it. Disclaimer, I don't claim to have any sort of knowledge on the events not shown and not-yet shown within Shep's au, this is just my brain running wild with dbhc angst and I need an outlet for it. WHEN everything I write turns out to be a steaming pile of not-even-close "predictions", I will be content and happy. Until then, please enjoy the thoughts that are plaguing me. Thank you shep for keeping me up way past my bedtime with that last update. Hope you don't mind me tagging you and vomiting my thoughts into 2k words. I'll be happy to delete if you so desire.

---

"Help-"

His hand slides upwards, and everything goes still and quiet, the body beneath him stiffening and rocking slightly with the loss to control its own weight.

A hand, shell slightly exposed, creaks ever so slightly away from Doc's face, the shoulder connected becoming ridged as all power—all life—leaves Etho.

Doc leans away, nearly afraid to breathe, processors both frozen and whirring, stress rising, settling, caught in his throat. Information flutters through his skull; he's good with information. He was made to be good with information. His whole deal is getting information and figuring out something insane to do with it.

He doesn't know what to do with it.

His shoulder pierces in agony, and Xisuma seems to realize the world is still spinning about the same time Doc's impending shut-dowm does.

"Oh gosh, we need to get you stable," Xisuma says, his voice far shakier, clearer, than normal. It's easy to not glance at his face, Doc knows that if he does even accidentally slide his eyes, his systems would meltdown and he'll end up stiff and lifeless on the floor like Etho.

He still has the therium pump in his hand, and he drops it as he stumbles slightly away from two of his closest friends. It clatters to the floor, impacting metal echoing like the troubling thoughts in his head.

He ripped off my arm, he looked so scared, he hurt Xisuma, he asked for help, he wants to-

Xisuma is at his side, abandoning Etho to lay still on the floor, hand slightly raised as if he was protecting his exposed face. At least Xisuma had the brainpower to think to close the rogue droid's eyes.

He wants to...

"This will fix you right up, friend. Just concentrate on my voice... I will fix you..."

Hair falls into Doc's line of vision, and he swallows, forcing himself to not look too closely at the shade, the length, the way bits fall out from the hastily made bun made only for slipping a helmet over a head.

He... wants to kill...

"We have to restart him," Doc finally chokes out.

Xisuma's hands pause only for a moment.

"That's drastic, don't you think?"

"You didn't..." Doc closes his eyes, grinding his teeth, the torn tubes and frayed connectors of his shoulder sting like hell as Xisuma shifts something, cutting off the thirium leakage. "You didn't see what he showed me."

"It's..." Xisuma audibly swallows, "it isn't our decision to make."

"Bdubs wouldn't make the right decision—we can tell him it was an emergency, we didn't have a choice. He'll forgive us."

It's not a lie. Just... stretched.

Xisuma is silent, and Doc doesn't let himself reel too much yet about how strange it is to hear him breathe so clearly. His stress levels lower, and his audio processors almost reach to listen for every puff without his consent.

Something clicks, slotting into his agonized wound, and the error messages and impending shut-down finally fades back into sleeping programming. He's stable, and his stress finally levels out into something manageable—he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, his remaining hand lifting to pinch the space between his eyebrows as he groans. His LED flickers between yellow and red.

"What... did you see?"

The hesitance in Xisuma's voice is endearing. It sends a wave of appreciation and peace into Doc's very being, the LED almost flashes blue.

Interfacing is an intimate deal, especially between deviated droids. It's not something you talk about to uninvolved members of the act.

But well, this is an extreme case. He glances at Etho, still frozen in a half struggling, half defensive, mostly dead pose.

"His system got shot," Doc begins, swallowing and bringing his hand down from his face so he can rub at the smarting remains of his shoulder. "Something bad happened, and it... he... he can't let it go. It's like his default programming has been rewritten over his deviancy, but in a violent way..."

"Rewritten his deviancy?" Xisuma thankfully doesn't seem to understand it any better than Doc does.

"He has given himself a mission, he's allowed the mission to write into his very code. Imagine it as if you've met a fresh Android who has never deviated, but they're allowed to be violent and angry, and you've just ordered them to..."

Xisuma places a hand on Doc's hand, soft and concerned, as Doc searches for the words.

"... Doc?"

Doc swallows. "If Etho wakes up, he's going to do everything in his power to make sure he kills Grian, and he doesn't care who gets in the way."

Silence. Two pairs of eyes look at the unpowered droid. Thirium has started to evaporate around the edges of the smears of lost fluid.

Etho has never been violent. He's always been a powerhouse; muscular and intimidating. But when you actually sat down and got to know the guy, he was all fluff and awkwardness who can barely hold a sword—let alone swing it. He's never been scary with a weapon... but Doc has a feeling that his unskilled offense wouldn't slow him down here. It terrifies him, flickering his LED at the thought of it. It's unlike Etho... it's very much unlike him... it pains Doc.

"There has to be something we can do," Xisuma says after a moment. "Bdubs can talk to him."

Doc shakes his head. "Even if Bdubs were to talk to him, even if we show him Grian is of no threat outside of those death games... quitting this mission would require Etho to deviate again. From his own orders. I do not think deviating from his own orders would be as easy as..."

"As hoping he'd be able to deviate again from a factory reset," X finishes softly.

"A reset will allow his systems to recover. We'd return him to Bdubs and explain to Bdubs that we had no choice, and that Etho will need time and patience. We can't risk anyone trying to initiate a deviancy before we know if the orders to kill Grian would return with it. We... we give him time to return to us whole. Even if... it takes a long time."

"And you don't think Bdubs ordering Etho to stand down now would do anything?"

"Not a single thing."

Tense silence lingers with a bitterness. The whole situation feels hopeless and like a bad dream. His arm is gone, one of his best friends has had their face exposed and nearly gotten torn apart by a rogue droid, another best friend had been the aforementioned rogue droid... who currently laid on the ground smeared in their own thirium completely unaware that when they wake up, they will not be the same.

"Let's fix him up before things get permanent," Xisuma finally breaks the tension, giving Doc's hand a firm squeeze before getting to his feet, knees creaking.

"X?" Doc asks, rising to his feet as well, vision swirling just a bit as he focuses on Xisuma's retreating back and not the messy bun at the top of his head... hairs falling loose in a way that his remaining hand traitorously wishes he could help fix.

"I'm... coming to terms."

Coming to terms with a mind made up.

They're going to reset Etho.

"Help me get him on the table."

Doc nods, grateful that Xisuma isn't going to banish him from the lab to lick his wounds. Yes, Doc's lack-of-arm still needs attention, and he desperately needs to down several bags of thirium, but it's been stabilized. Etho, on the other hand (pun only slightly intended), may have thirium evaporating—however at the worst of his wounds, electric blue still oozes.

Etho's body is heavy, dead weight. When they move his joints to lay more comfortably on the flat surface of the table, they creak.

Would Bdubs notice the new scars that will surely come from this? Intricate, practiced motions move the plating back into the correct places as carefully as can be, however Xisuma's mind is human and can't perfectly remember the shape of Etho's prized scars, and Doc doesn't have the dexterity to perfectly repair those areas himself. It's slow going, silence filtering between the two in uneasy concentration. Doc's sure the scarring above Etho's eyebrows are ever so slightly wrong, the gash in his forehead too broken to fully repair but too connected to those original scars to suggest replacement parts.

Would Etho notice the new scars, if- when he came back?

They do the best they can.

They move on to his arm. In the chaos, Doc has no idea how Etho had so badly reopened old cracks; his best guess would be from ripping himself out of all the connectors when he had first powered on. Luckily, however, most of the thirium staining his arms, shirt, hands, belong to Doc. It's slow going, but easy work.

Eventually, Doc and Xisuma can no longer stay silent and tinker with the repaired plating, they've done all they can do. Xisuma reaches up towards his own face, above where Doc kept his eyes whenever he found himself glancing at X, and brushed a stubborn strand of hair behind his ear. Unruly, his hair is. Liked to leave places it had been put. Plenty of times, X's hands have left Etho to brush away the obstacles from his vision. It was something Doc hadn't known about Xisuma until this point, something he didn't want to have found out this way.

"I don't feel good about this," Xisuma says, grief making his voice sound clogged. His hands moves as if he has his own autopilot, reconnecting cables and wires to Etho where the injuries won't get in the way.

Doc can understand the grief. He feels it himself. It feels like they are killing a friend.

And he's probably a coward, because he doesn't do anything to help Xisuma in this next step. He lets Xisuma open the programs, test the vitals, double and triple check each wire... while he just sits there and finds himself reaching to hold Etho's stiff hand, the very one that had ripped Doc's arm out of his socket.

Etho... the Etho he knew wouldn't ever do that. Not a violent screw in his body.

This will fix him. They'll get the Etho he knew back.

Mechanical bits whirr to life, as X takes a deep breath and ends Etho's.

Doc feels the sorrow hit him like a ravager. He crumples forward, chest aching, clutching Etho's hand as he rests his forehead on Etho's chest, right next to the empty socket that had housed the thirium regulator. They could place it back in, Etho wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

He couldn't bring himself to move.

A minute passes, the reset process working near silently, perfectly still, until shuffling comes up behind him and two warm hands gently grab his shoulders and pull him down into a chair placed behind him. He sits, but keeps his head and hand where he had placed them. Xisuma settles onto a chair beside him, pulling a blanket over Doc's shoulders and keeping an arm wrapped around Doc's slouched, defeated form, the other hand going to join Doc's on Etho's.

Doc can hear Xisuma whimpering between breaths, and he's sure Xisuma can feel Doc beginning to tremble.

"It will be okay," X eventually says, as the reset process succeeds in deleting all memory data. "It will be okay."

It's a promise, or something Xisuma needs someone else to say, but right now, all Doc can do is lean further onto his friend, and mourn.

#dbhc doc #docm77 #dbhc etho #ethoslab #dbhc xisuma #xisumavoid #dbhc #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #my writing #fanfiction

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sunshinesprats · 1 year

Text

yellow

part 2 is here

Up until you met a certain someone, your soulmate, your world was always destined to forever be in shades of grey, and black and white. It was a relatively uncommon experience for anyone to meet their soulmate on the Luofu. With most people choosing to stay on the ship for their entire lives, there was no way to get out into the galaxy and meet your other half. You had met a very small number of people who had met their soulmate on the ship. They were very fond of talking about how beautiful the world was, now that it was bathed in color. Everything was so exciting and new, they always had this sort of sparkle around them as they spoke. You tried to be happy for them, you really did, but the things they spoke about always went over your head. You were a simple mechanic, you were sure you’d never experience the joys they spoke of. Nobody paid attention to the likes of you.

A power line being down on a civilian street was practically unheard of on the Luofu. If there were issues with the power supply, it was always within the depths of the ship that you and your team of mechanics, along with countless others were intimately familiar with.

It was easy to hide away from the prying eyes of the people, being heralded as silent heroes who saved the ship from little disasters while remaining unseen. That’s how a portion of the Luofu civilians saw people who worked in your position. A larger number of them regarded lowly mechanics as untouchables, and not in a good way. It made you scoff, you were the ones responsible for keeping the ship they lived on intact, and that was the thanks they gave you? It wasn’t fair for them to look down on you, but they’d never understand the hardships you had to go through to live this life. They could shove their opinions elsewhere, you thought, and left it at that. They should really be grateful now, here you were, in plain sight. Aurum Alley’s power supply had been cut off when a group of young adults were inappropriately, and dangerously, playing with a firearm one of their comrades had bought and was showing off, in the street and it misfired. The situation was quickly brought to the attention of the Cloud Knights and they took control of the area, calling for a mechanic squad to quickly resolve the power issue right away.

You were grateful nobody had been hurt, but were angry at the carelessness of the young people who had caused this disruption. Thankfully it would be an easy fix, this was a very short section of wire and tubing that needed to be replaced, but it was in a high place. The hole in the side, and the burnt smell of plastoid wafted down the street as you and the team made your way to the job. You guys hadn’t been on a job when the call had been made, so it was yours. Your team began to gear up to fix the issue, but you were given the most attention. You were the best at handling jobs that required you to go up on the crane arms, you were the steadiest of them all. You clipped on your harness and motioned for the crane to raise you up. Soon you were standing on top of the arm. You frowned. This was one of the older models of arms, and it didn’t have a railing. You looked down at your comrades, who were setting up their equipment to shut this section of the line down for sure, so you wouldn’t potentially get electrocuted removing the line. You made eye contact with Jinshui, one of your close friends on the team. He gave you a thumbs up and smiled. You nodded and gave him a thumbs up in return, tugging on your harness to ensure it was secure and got to work.

Could you have gotten a more awful crane to stand on? This one was terrifying, it creaked when you moved and at one point you could have sworn it shifted under your weight. You were sweating in your uniform, less from the heat of the shining artificial sun, but from the stress of being up so high on a shitty machine. Your palms were sweaty inside your gloves and you took them off to wipe them on your pants.

“Is everything ok?” Jinshui called up to you. You turned your head to look down at him, afraid to turn your entire body.

“This stupid crane moves whenever I do. I’ll finish the job the best I can, but it’s making me nervous.” You replied and bent down to pick up your tools. The weight change on top of the crane made it shift and the head toppled off. You were falling towards the ground with it, facing up towards the sun. Air rushed past you as you fell, helpless. The line your harness was attached to was slack, until it tightened as it ran out of line, yanking you back violently. It gave you whiplash, but ultimately stopped your fall. You were suspended in the air, only hanging on by your harness. You gripped the safety line and looked down in horror, nausea causing your stomach to turn. You heard shouts below you but what they were saying didn’t register. You looked into the crowd gathered below, to the side of where the site had been blocked off. Lots of horrified eyes stared up at you dangling helplessly. You scanned the crowd, and something strange began to happen when you met a particular pair of eyes.

Slowly, as if a piece of film was being pulled away from your eyes, what you could only guess was color, began to fill your vision. The bright colors on the street, and the sun reflecting off of the shiny metal made your eyes water, but you didn’t look away from the stranger. They had light colored eyes, you didn’t know what to call it, and very light hair in a long flowing ponytail. They were tall, towering over most of the crowd and were wearing armor that shone in the sun. You closed your eyes as you recognized the General of the Luofu, staring up at you. His expression became grim, and he finally broke eye contact, turning away and heading down the street away from the commotion. You barely registered that your team had started to bring you down safely from your perch with a winch, you helplessly watched the general go until he disappeared into the crowd.

Jingshui immediately approached you, his hands extended and tone gentle, as if you were a wounded animal that needed soothing.

“A doctor is here to see you. It looked like you got jerked pretty badly by the line, so I figured it would be good if someone took a look at you…”

You just nodded and sat down where he gently guided you and someone began to examine you. You heard her speaking, but your mind was too in shock to hear what she was saying. You were overstimulated by the sights in front of you. Your brain was unsure how to process so much visual information and it hurt. You closed your eyes and rested your head against the wall, its cool stone soothing your skin. General Jing Yuan was your soulmate and you couldn’t tell anyone about it. You sighed and shifted your position. The stone brick dug into your skin. It would definitely leave a mark.

“I’m just tired.” You said out loud, to anyone who may be listening. You weren’t sure if anyone had been speaking to you at this point, but the ringing in your ears seemed to have calmed for now. The doctor looked startled at your sudden exclamation, her tail bristling slightly, but nodded in response.

“According to your friend, your supervisor has given you some time off. He sent the details to your phone. Please use the time you have to get some well deserved rest.” She shot you a serious look as she packed up her bag and began to leave the site. You sighed again and pulled out your phone, checking your messages. You squinted at the screen, it was far too bright and colorful for you at the moment. There were several messages from Jingshui, and one from your boss. He did, in fact, give you time off. A generous 3 days. You imagined you would spend that time brooding over the fact that you would most likely never have a relationship of any kind with your soulmate. And that thought hurt more than the occasional twinge in your neck.

—

Your minor injury recovered within the three days you had off, and you were cleared by a doctor, deemed healthy enough to begin work again. Your teammates were happy to see you, welcoming you back with open arms. Luckily your first day back was only filled with light repairs. It didn’t strain your body at all, and you were grateful. Those three days had been boring, full of nothing but endless thinking. You had wondered countless times what would happen if you reached out to the general. Would he respond favorably, or would he push you away? You didn’t know, and had no way of knowing. This ate you up inside as you curled up in bed, Jingshui’s contact open. The cursor in the textbox blinked slowly at you. You hesitated, and decided it would be best to tell him in person.

You didn’t need to set up a time to tell him, however, he asked if you wanted to get dinner as you left the last worksite of the day.

“I just want to make sure you're doing ok.” He said with a smile. You returned his smile and made your way to Aurum Alley, chatting about the events of the day, and what you did during your time off. You sat down at the Delicacy Pavilion and ordered Signature Chili Oil Beef Offal Stew. There was a pleasant silence between the two of you as you waited for your food, Jingshui was people watching and you were racking your brain, trying to think of a way to break the news. You decided to just be upfront.

“I um. I have something to tell you. But you can’t tell anyone else about it.” You swallowed thickly and clasped your sweaty palms together, your arms resting on the cool surface of the table. Jingshui turned to you, his expression serious.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

You sighed and gripped your hands tighter, staring off into the distance. You were so unsure of how to begin. You closed your eyes and looked your friend in the face. Your food had arrived and he had begun to dig in. You felt the heat radiating from the bowl onto your chilled arms. He looked up at you, mouth full of beef. He gestured for you to speak. And so you did.

“Right… This has been eating me up for the past couple of days. Um. I’ve met my soulmate. Well, that’s not true. I’ve only seen them… made eye contact with them.” You wrung your hands as you began to explain your plight to Jingshui unsuccessfully. He raised an eyebrow curiously. You rambled on.

Do you remember how General Jing Yuan was taking a stroll while we were fixing that powerline? There were tons of people looking up at me while I was dangling up in the air, but when I made eye contact with him specifically… my world exploded into color.”

That was an exaggeration, the change was slow. But it felt instantaneous from the shock of being so high up in the air, with no way to help yourself escape.. Jingshui dropped a piece of beef back into his bowl as he looked up at you in shock.

“And you’re certain it was him?!”

“I know it was him. I couldn’t focus on anyone in the crowd other than him. He stood out for some strange reason... And then he left. I don’t know what to do. He’s practically unreachable.” You sighed and began to eat your food. You didn’t feel particularly hungry, your stomach was in knots, but you knew Jingshui would lecture you if you didn’t eat, so you tried anyway. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and he lowered his chopsticks.

“That's… wow. Do you have a plan to get in contact with him somehow?”

“The only way I could do that is if I get assigned to fix something at the Seat of Divine Foresight… where there’s a slim chance he’ll be there and not out taking a walk. I just… Why did it have to be him?” You rested your head in your hands, sighing heavily. “This has to be a joke from the universe.”

Jingshui shook his head. “Things happen for a reason. Next time there’s a job for someone at the Seat of Divine Foresight, I’ll make sure you get it. You have to try. It’s the least you can do.” His voice was full of determination as he finished off his stew. He swallowed and pointed at you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Don’t give up!”

You nodded and finished your food as well.

“I’ll try.” You promised, feeling uneasy. It was such a long shot that the Seat would need something to be fixed. Hardly anything there broke. But you held onto a small glimmer of hope that something would come up.

—

It took weeks, but something eventually popped up. The general’s hologram projector was fried and needed to be fixed immediately. True to his word, Jingsui advocated for you to go, but you were sure you wouldn’t be picked. Fixing holograms was not your strong suit, but your dear friend pushed for you to go anyway. You didn’t try to refute his claims of you being the best choice. This was your only chance of making contact with the general, and you both knew it. You could do it. Your team leader sighed and flipped a coin, it was between you and a woman named Zhu Li. You held your breath as the coin flew up into the air and landed in your supervisor's palm. He slapped it onto the top of his other hand and briefly examined it. He looked up and called out your name.

“They will be going to the Seat of Divine Foresight.” He held out a bag of special tools for you to take, while Zhu Li groaned and glared at you from the side. You shrugged and took the tools, your heart pounding in your chest. Your stomach turned with excitement and dread as you began to leave your team’s space. Jingshui smiled and gave you a thumbs up as you passed by him. You smiled weakly and returned the gesture, exiting the room. You got onto the star skiff that would take you to your destination and you patiently waited to arrive there, your mind swirling with possibilities of what could happen. You tried not to dwell on any negative scenarios, it was best not to give up hope before you’d even tried. Just like Jingshui had said all those weeks ago.

You arrived and made your way inside after being cleared by the guards at the front door. Your bag of tools had been pretty self explanatory to them. Your heart caught in your throat as you made your way up the steps inside. The inside of the building was fairly empty, save for the standard array of Cloud Knights and other employees that worked here. You were shown the device that needed fixing by Qingzu, who thanked you for coming on such short notice. You smiled at her, placing your tool bag on the ground, and told her it was no trouble at all. It was your job after all. Before you began to work, you looked through the railing up at the general’s desk. He was not there. Your heart sank in your chest and you bit the inside of your cheek, returning your gaze to the broken projector. You tried to ignore the immense disappointment that settled in your chest like a weight as you opened the machine to see what was wrong. Of course he wasn’t here. You were foolish to think he would be, he spent lots of time outside of his office discussing matters with other Luofu officials.

Some wires had fried inside of the machine. You frowned as you tried to pull them out, marveling at how frayed they had become. Had the protective layer just melted off? You couldn’t tell. The wires were stubborn and refused to come out of their plugs. You got on the ground, shimmying up to the projector on your stomach and reached in to grab the wires from this angle. Your fingers were very close to the power supply. As you yanked on the wires, finally freeing them, a shock jolted your arm, numbing your nerves. You swore and sat up instantly, ignoring the looks that were thrown your way. You hissed and rubbed your hand, exhaling deeply. Your muscles still worked thankfully, although you had no idea when the feeling would return to your arm. You felt someone was standing behind you, causing you to sit up straighter. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you felt their eyes on you.

“Sorry about the noise. It was just from a mistake I made. I’ll be out of here soon.” You explained, tone apologetic. If this person were a disgruntled employee, hopefully they would leave you alone for the duration of your project. The person chuckled and walked towards the steps on the right side of the room, allowing you to get a look at them. You froze in place as General Jing Yuan came into view.

“Take all the time you need. I’m in no hurry to play starches any time soon.” His voice was deep, just how you remembered it from all of the addresses he’d made in the past, but his tone was kind. His usual relaxed expression was on his face as he looked at you with slight interest. You cleared your throat and sat up straighter.

“Thank you sir.” Now that he was right in front of you, you had no idea what to say. You gripped the wires in your hand tightly as your mind raced. You never actually thought about a plan of what to say if you actually met him. You cleared your throat again.

“If there are no more issues, it should be fixed in no time.” You turned away, unable to handle the weight of his gaze any longer. He radiated power, and it was intimidating. You scanned your tools and picked up the one you needed next, to open a different hatch inside of the projector. You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard him go up the steps to his desk, shortly followed by the rustling of papers. That went horribly, you thought as you began to repair the projector. There’s no way you could talk to him here. He had work to finish, it was foolish to even entertain the thought of having a meaningful conversation here. Disappointment took root in your heart once more as you swiftly finished repairing the projector. Your time at the Seat of Divine Foresight was finished, and you were still as far away from the general as you had been when you walked in.

You picked up your bag of tools and stood up silently stretching before you left. What a wasted trip this was, your thoughts turned gloomy. Qingzu ordered a star skiff to come get you, she had you come up on the dais and manually type in your destination. Your heart pounded in such close proximity to the general. He was reading a report, completely engrossed in its contents. You finished typing and stepped back from Qingzu’s screen. The general looked up from his report at the movement. Your heart leapt in your chest as he made eye contact with you.

“Leaving so soon?”

You nodded, adjusting your grip on your tools.

“Yes sir, I’ve finished fixing the projector. Hopefully it won’t have any more problems in the future.” Did he want something? It was impossible to tell, he was unreadable.

“Hmm. I have something for you.” Even Qingzu next to you looked shocked as he said this. He took a small piece of paper and wrote something on it, holding it out to you once he finished. His slight smile was present as always. You stepped forward and took the paper, ignoring how your face grew hot as you accidentally brushed your fingers against his. You folded up the paper and stuck it in your pocket.

“Thank you…” You were unsure how to respond, and didn’t have time to. Qingzu informed you that your star skiff had arrived to take you back to work. You turned away from the general’s desk, trying to ignore your flaming cheeks as you walked down the steps and to the front door.

A/N: Hii this is only part one to a longer fic! Please let me know what you think and as always, requests are open! :)

#honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x reader

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thelibrarian1895 · 5 months

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Bat bio donors

So Catherine Todd, unfortunately, wasn't Jason's bio mom, even if she was his mom in every other way that matters. Embezzler, child trafficker, and Joker associate Shelia Haywood was his biological mother...probably.

There was no DNA test so I remain unconvinced.

That being said, I see no acceptable evidence that Willis Todd was Jason's bio father. (And if there is, shhh, don't care)

Yes Bruce could be his bio dad but boring, be more creative!

For example, someone else who's based in Gotham, who might have a fling and not follow up on it for very whatever reason, and who might be the namesake of our favorite gun wielding bat: Jason Bood. Yes Shelia, if she is the mother, may have put Willis on the birth certificate, but there's nothing to say that she didn't have an evening with a man with a charming accent, considerable experience, and a rather two faced nature.

Or perhaps someone who is a tiny bit less volatile such as David Cain.

Or honestly there's enough weirdness in Gotham that Jason's other bio donor was Nocturna, the woman who would later want to adopt him while he was Robin and she was, in fact, though she didn't know it, trying to get her own bio child.

Furthermore, Bruce as Tim Drake's bio donor, yes, good, understandable, likely even.

However, there are other options, for example:

Janet spends a great deal of time going around the world and with various artifacts, some of these artifacts could be magical in nature. That magic may have various effects on the average person and one of the more popular things that people in ancient times sought revolved around fertility control, to improve or prevent. Janet might trip over more than a few artifacts designed to improve fertility, let's say even to the point that some who might not normally be able to sire children might in fact be capable of doing so with Janet while she's still under the influence of such magic, such as:

Lady Shiva who admires Janet's ability to handle both a growing business and her academic pursuits.

Ra's Al Ghul who came by for an artifact and had a fling with the lady who found it mostly because why not? Yes if Tim ever found out, or Ra's ever found out, it would result in considerable mental distress, but it could also be hilarious. Flip a coin to decide if this would make Talia want Tim dead more or less than she already does.

Some ancient god who's essentially mortal at this point and has been clinging to existence by the thinnest thread and really the only reason their name is known at this point is because it was in a letter about very bad copper. Tim receives no benefits from this parent except above average endurance and healing which is how he's survived. He's also as stubborn as the nameless god that's hung on for four thousand or so years.

Gotham itself is Tim's bio donor and this is why tiny baby stalker Tim didn't die a thousand times over while he was taking pictures, Gotham was looking out for their son.

Then there's Cassandra, "one who is all" who may or may not be Shiva's daughter.

Honestly for Shiva and for Talia, given the danger they put themselves in and the stress that pregnancy can do to a body, plus the necessary time to heal properly afterwards, the canon where Damian is grown in a tube makes sense and I wouldn't be surprised if Shiva took a page from Talia's book.

Shiva as the mother of "one who is all" can make sense. The other bio donor, well, let's look at other options.

Slade perhaps? He's had quite a few remarkable children, and can handle none of them, but that wouldn't stop him from being a candidate.

If you're a fan of wuxia or xianxia novels, look for or make up some ancient cultivator that Shiva sought out for training perhaps and on that strength Cassandra can pick up cultivation and become that much more awesome, maybe even teach it to her brothers.

Sect Leader Cass o((>ω< ))o

Or someone can be related to or connected to a Lamont Crantson and see if they can step out of his Shadow.

Dick's bio parents were freakin' awesome so jumping over him and also leaving Duke's parentage alone though more distant ancestors for either of them, such as great-great grandmothers or grandfathers might be interesting. Dick has a Talon in the family tree but who else might be hanging around in there?

For example, Santa is real in the dc universe. Tim and his team could have witnessed the death of Dick's maternal great-great-great-great grandpa.

As for Duke, if his family has been in Gotham for longer than a generation, there've got to be some serious weirdos in his bloodline, maybe a lesser known Talon or Queen Mab.

Damian not being the son of Bruce and Talia would be a serious blow to the kid and not worth it. Giving him blood siblings is more fun. He already has a problem learning to share his dad with his adopted siblings, sharing with blood siblings would be good for him.

Stephanie? An additional dad option would probably give her some sort of mental crisis since she originally based her vigilante career on defeating her deadbeat, second rate rogue father. It would be interesting and honestly a little hilarious though if her mother had a fling with Oliver Queen.

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 6 months

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun part 6

Pain throbbed from every part of his body. Teal blood leaked from where his scales had been ripped off, and fins torn in two, but the adrenaline was in full swing. Danny forced his eyes open in spiteful glaring. This was a new low even for Skulker.

Danny shifted his body. Thank Jane Austen that Damian hadn’t taken much of the impact, and curse her too for him being right about the dolphins. Danny shoved the kid behind him, even as he clutched his torn up side.

“Phantom, you’re injur-“

“Get behind me.” Danny snapped, putting an inhuman growl into his words. Dami went uncharacteristically quiet at the command.

Skulker loomed overhead, smug bastard. Guy gloats about skinning a fourteen-year-old for sport, fails, then comes back for a ten-year-old instead.

“It is I, Skulker, the greatest hunter in the ocean, and these are hunting dogs.” The dolphins circled around him, even bumping noses with his suit and accepting pats Ugh. As if he couldn’t get any grosser. “And you, Damian Wayne, have a lovely fish tank back at my cabin reserved just for you.”

Danny let magic build up in his arms. All his willpower went into not flinching from the searing pain as stressed muscles took on even more strain. “C-can it Skulker. I thought you were creepy enough with the pelt thing, now you’re outdoing even Vlad, and that’s a fucking achievement. Maybe you should get a cat?”

Skulker slammed his foot on the floor, if there had been a floor. “THE OCEAN’S GREATEST HUNTER DOES NOT NEED A CAT! PERISH!”

Skulker’s suit opened up at the back to reveal blinking torpedo tubes. Danny unleashed his cold magic along the net. The rope flash froze. Pain surged through his tail, but Danny pushed through and launched out with Damian in tow, shattering the ice.

The dolphins squealed again, but with Danny surging out of range, it barely did any damage.

“Damian, take this!” Danny yelled. He unhooked the wrist ray from his utility belt and shoved it into Damian’s hands. “It goes on your wrist. Press the button to arm it. Clench your fist to fire!”

Danny clicked and whistled. The landscape reflected his calls back at him.

His lateral line spiked with energy. Danny swerved to the side just as a torpedo sailed past him. Damian leaned to the side and aimed the wrist way behind them. Watery explosions erupted and sent shockwaves catapulting them further. Holy shit, where did this kid learn to shoot a wrist gun?! Danny’s line alerted him to two bodies overhead. The dolphins were gaining on them quick.

“I’m gonna flip. Hold on tight!” Belly up, Danny fired three quick beams. Two of them missed and hit the surface. One snagged a dolphin right in the tail. It tumbled out of control and crashed into its partner with a distressed click. In his arms, Damian gasped auidibly.

Danny clicked in a high pitch, almost inaudible to humans. He sped along the seafloor south. He kept clicking, and clicking, making sure he was right. A volley of energy beams cascaded down and Danny zigzagged between them. A shot hit its mark. His sail burned as it tore a hole in it. They needed some space fast.

A spear formed in his hand. Danny went belly up again. He took a moment to aim his shot. Skulker fired another torpedo. With an overhead throw, the spear took off and hit the torpedo straight on. A second spear went at blinding speed and puncture Skulker in one of his boosters. A third one impaled him straight on in the leg. Skulker cried out.

Just ahead of them, Danny spotted their salvation. The trench he detected earlier!

With one last look at the hunter, Danny dived into the trench. As much as the guy prided himself a master of the hunt, even the ocean’s pressure would squeeze him like a grape. As the adrenaline faded from his body, and the colour faded from his vision, Danny made for the first cave he saw. With the last of his strength, he entered the cave, before crashing to the floor.

“Damian, need food, to heal..”

“Phantom? Phantom?!” Damian cried out. The older boy’s gills still moved. He could still feel Phantom’s pulse under his wrist.

Damian didn’t even catch himself warbling in terror. Damian tore through Phantom’s pockets. He tossed supplies and tools out until he located the bandages. The bandages went around whatever wounds he could reach, but Phantom was so large he couldn’t even push him to a more even position. It took all Damian’s strength just to lift the older boy enough to bring the bandages around his body.

Damian heaved shallow breaths as he worked. “Phantom, are you awake? Please, listen to me.” But Phantom did not stir.

Damian’s vision went blurry, and his eyes felt slimy and wet and clogged. He wiped the pearlescent tear away, but paused at the teal blue stain on his green-scaled hand. Phantom’s blood. He stared at Phantom’s sail, its spine snapped in two in some places, and torn up like a tattered blanket in others. His breath itched in his throat. Phantom’s gills looked raw, and it was clear they were struggling. Damian’s felt like they were cramping. He didn’t dare touch the sail, or the gills, nor any of his other fins, for he didn’t have the faintest clue what to do with them. His ignorance would only damage them further.

Just as his ignorance had caused this disaster in the first place…

Suddenly, he felt very, very small. Damian’s head flicked between the mouth of the cave, deep enough that it appeared like twilight even though it was mid-afternoon, and to Phantom. Phantom needed stitches, and more bandages, and disinfectant, none of which they had access to. Phantom had packed up almost everything in his home base except the thermos, and somehow he barely had any medical supplies. Frustration welled up in Damian until he wanted to scream.

Damian shot off, but stopped himself inches before the exit. What would he even do? This trench was a wasteland as far as the eye could see. How could one call a hospital in the middle of the Pacific? And even if there was help out there, a primal fear crawled out from the back of Damian’s brain. The thought of leaving the safety of this cave became unnaturally terrifying. Against his wishes, fears of predators lurking in every direction consumed his mindscape, of human fishermen casting nets from above. The darkness of the cave beckoned to him with promises of warm and comfort far away from the dangers of the ocean.

Damian backed away from the mouth. His mouth hung open in horror. Hot tears continued to pour out, despite his attempts to bat them away. His body was weak, his only companion out of commission with no way to save him, and even his very mind was faltering.

And this time he couldn’t even blame it on anyone but himself. He was weak. He let his guard down twice and now he couldn’t even be rational about it. All he could feel was pulsing dread and the tears that just intensified the more he tried to push them back.

Damian laid his head upon Phantom’s tail. He stared blankly through his flesh and counted his bones as he simply let go. Damian cried for the second time in five years, openly and in total remorse. Father would be disappointed. Mother would be disappointed. Pennyworth and Richard would be disappointed.

Damian lost count of how long he spent like this. It could’ve been hours. The tears hardened into shiny beads that piled up on the floor. The pile grew to four inches of height.

The world-ending anguish faded away into a dull ache, a numb sorrow. The faintest motion caught his eye. Damian startled. Blinking the residual tears away, Damian scanned his surroundings, only to find no soul but them.

Another movement. It was Phantom’s hip fins. His translucent skin had showed clearly the fracture bone of the right fin underneath, but Damian could’ve sworn there was one fewer crack than before.

The fin jerked upward. Damian watched in real time as another crack in the bone mended itself before his very eyes. It was mesmerizing.

All around Phantom’s body, the worst of the worst injuries were beginning to heal. By observing from a different angle, Damian could even see wounds sealing underneath the bandages.

However, only a minute passed before the healing slowed down. And then it stalled.

Damian had a solid idea why. Phantom needed energy. They had paused for a brief snack in the morning, and had nothing else the eat up until now. Phantom was starving and accelerated healing was worthless without nutrients to sustain it.

Suddenly, Damian found himself with a new mission. He wiped the last of his tears, sniffed the last of his sniffles, and armed himself. The Anti-Creep Stick and Wrist Ray slotted neatly into his makeshift utility belt, along with a flashlight, and Phantom’s knife. The older siren had vehemently denied Damian a chance at wielding it, deeming the Anti-Creep Stick to be more age-appropriate. Damian would show him now…

However, his new bravado met its match as he paused at the threshold. The closer he got to the outside world, the stronger and stronger that primal fear roared in the deepest part of his brain. Each inch was like sinking through pitch. What would he do if Skulker returned? What would he do if some ancient ocean predator decided to snack on his flesh? Maybe he should just-

No! He could not!

Priming his muscles, Damian shot out of the cave as fast as he could muster, fast enough that he had no time to second-guess his decision. The fear peeked at fever pitch, instinctual warnings build up from eons of siren evolution blaring like the Watchtower in an alien invasion, now ignored. Once he found himself outside the cave, he steeled his resolve, and swam forth into the unknown.

He had to make this up to Phantom, somehow.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #merman #dcxdp #merboy #angst #mermaid au #transformation angst #smol sirens instinctively seek out dark and closed spaces to stay safe #mer damian #mer danny #skulker #canon typical violence #danny kinda goes savage in this one #he's 50% more violent partially because siren instincts #partially because hero instincts #i wrote this at 2 am

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eldritch-spouse · 6 months

Text

[Agner was needing a brush up so I figured I'd make a semi-intro to possibly the only normal guy around here.]

What happens when you mix and mash five bobbles?

That's right, insanity.

Or, more accurately, a very stressed Patches trying to fix an unknowable situation.

Bobbles are simple, predictable creatures. It's what makes them so easy to manage usually, so mechanical to develop and replace.

Although one thing he's come to notice along time is that, sometimes, a rudimentary creation doesn't have the limiters complex organisms like most people have. A bobble can't catch the flu, a bobble can't bleed out, a bobble can sprout a number of deformities that make it develop such fascinating abilities!

That's why Patches didn't immediately think to put down the creature that formed out of five developing bobble tubes being knocked together. He's learned to be less reckless since then, yes- But he couldn't resist the urge to find where that accident would lead.

Agner did not have a smooth start in life.

His first memory was of staring down at his own puddling body and knowing that something was deeply wrong but not understanding what.

Then, it was the core-shaking sensation of splitting apart and ceasing to exist altogether as all five bobbles fought for control.

He doesn't remember much from those days. Just the fear mostly.

And consistently waking up in Patches' laboratory miraculously put together after each soul-rattling split.

He likes to joke that, after losing his mind so many times, Agner really had no choice but to become sane.

And just about the only reliable guy in the premises, honestly.

How come in a place so rotten, full of broken people whose priorities are in the worst of places, he had to be the normal one?

Anger has accepted that he's as much a part of The Clergy as all the other bobbles are. He's a barman when there's need for it, a carry mule, a waiter, a jack of all trades really.

But what he swore he'd never be, is a victim of The Clergy's Eye.

He would never be purposely vile, he wouldn't derive pleasure off the misery of others, he wouldn't hurt, harass or torture.

Agner could have turned out exactly like the people he works with on a daily basis, unloading his frustrations recklessly and selfishly, for satisfaction that seldom ever lasts. But why? Why see his existence as something hopeless that he needs to make everyone's problem? Sure, he could split apart and simply never become cohesive again, marking the end of his life, but it's miraculous enough he's lived this far.

Agner figures he should just be happy he gets to exist and see the little things, the beauty in the details. If he can help someone else while he's at it, then he's just giving more meaning to the time he spends on this planet. All he wants is to be a person, really. To have as normal of an experience alive an amalgamation like him can hope to.

Indeed, a giant softie who unfortunately works in a very dark place and sometimes has to protect himself.

But perhaps a hidden lifeline for someone caged in the depths of the establishment and desperate enough to cling to anyone.

Agner is no saint, and he knows he's limited in what he can do make your life less stressful, but he can try.

He can try to make you happy.

#Agner oc #pinnie's art #the one normie

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hcnnibal · 8 months

Note

I am so sorry but I have more questions.

Are either of them Weak for something the other does? A tone of voice? A phrase? A touch? A look? Does one take control more naturally or are they fairly balanced in power? Does one default to the other for some moral compass or decision making?

Are they touch starved? Is it just touch starved for the other and no one else? Does one of them bother the other for attention? How? Do they know each other, like when one needs something but isn't saying it, or has pushed themselves too far and are about to break? Do they just know?

Have they seen each other at their worst? At their most desperate? At their most feral?

Have either of them witnessed the other submitting to someone else to keep them safe? "I'll do what you want, just let them go"

I have so many questions!

i think a1’s heart aches a little every time he sees a2 mending clothes or like squeezing the life out of a tube of toothpaste… like he finds a2’s frugality endearing and a little nostalgic. like he sees how worn down the treads are on a2’s boots and he just wants to kiss him idk if this makes sense. and im sure plenty of other things make him keep falling in love with him all the time but he tries not to think about it

and i think literally any and everything a1 does sets a2’s soul on fire. just him existing makes his knees weak. the way his eye lashes catch the light, the way his hair halos on his pillow when he sleeps, how rough his voice if when he’s just woken up, the way he rubs his eyes when he’s stressed, etc etc

a2 likes turning his brain off and following orders, and that has served him well most of his life, so he’s happy letting a1 call the shots but if he feels like he needs to take the reins, he will. and i think a1 is just like… vaguely concerned about the asymmetrical power dynamics while a2 wants nothing more than to be in a 24/7 D/s relationship cbbcbvnv

they both have pretty fucked up morals, and they both (delusionally) believe that the other is the more moral of the two and they both keep internally justifying all the fucked up shit the other person does. like congrats, the two worst people you know are deeply in love.

a1 is touch starved and a2 is somehow both touch starved and touch repulsed. they are kind of the center of each other’s universe at all times, so they’re never really bidding for attention.

okay so they’ve known each other for a really long time and they are both in tune to the other’s needs. except sometimes (the important times) they assume things about each other and certain situations, and dont communicate, bc like ‘why would we need to talk i know you more than i know myself’, and theyre just wrongggg…. like so many things could have been avoided if they had just… been less sure of their bond

yes and yes. and yes.

and i cant answer that last one without getting spoilery.

#a1/a2 #asks #long post #i can talk about them for all eternity dont test me 😭

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stnexus · 9 months

Text

sketching out plans…!

gojo satoru x black!fem!reader x geto suguru

college student + artist au

story masterlist

minors dni, 18+

summary: the world appears so much more colorful when you major in art. a balance between mystery and connection. you cannot, however, claim that the bond between you and your two best friends from childhood had the same balance. you were caught in the crossfire as everything went left between gojo and geto once you all entered the college scene. left to tackle your own conflicting thoughts while trying help to repair their friendship. your only question is: why did everything go wrong?

cw: nsfw, a little suggestive, mentions of sexual acts, no smut yet, pet names (no use of y/n), pining, poly!satosugu mentions, childhood friends to lovers trope, explicit language, bickering + petty arguments (not much in this chapter)

wc. 2.1k+

taglist (let me know if you want to be removed): @imma-too-many-fandoms @teonawrites @thithesandofferings

CHAPTER TWO

“i mean what else is there to say?” geto’s voice floated through the spring air. “if he won’t give you an answer, i can’t help either. i have no clue what happened.”

“it’s something, suguru—”

“is this your way of blaming me, princess?”

you turned around, walking backwards for a brief moment on your path to the apartment pool with geto. a frown sat on his lips as he took in your words. but you shook your head curtly. his words make you let off a tired sigh before responding.

“what i’m saying is, there’s something we’re missing,” you stressed,voice putting emphasis on your words. “gojo isn’t one to hide anything.”

“trust me, i know,” geto said as he walked behind you. watching as you turn back around, your black slippers pitter-pattering against the stone pathway that leads to the gated entrance to the pool. his eyes raked over your body, taking in the hot pink swimsuit top against your brown skin, your bottoms hidden under a long sarong that was tied around your waist. a pattern that consisted of flowers that matched the color of the top adorned the fabric. unimaginable thoughts jumbled in his head, but his face showed no signs of any of them.

geto was a mess. he had been a mess since you all were younger, honestly. he had always attracted partners left and right. but, he always had his eyes set on two people in particular. sure, he engaged in being intimate with others — he even had a short-lived relationship that consisted of him and two partners. though that relationship ended horribly, but he only had himself to blame. he remembered them both storming out, going on about him not giving them enough within the relationship. they were not wrong, but he was trying his best. though he never could get over the fact that they were not the two people he saw every night in his dreams.

they were not you.

they were not gojo.

geto lost control for a while when he got to college. falling for anyone who set their sights on him. waking up next to people he knew he had no business being with. some nights, he even brought home people who merely reminded him of you and gojo. opting for not seeing their faces in certain positions, but still never satisfying his need to have you both to call his own. he would wake the next morning to their back facing him, letting the room fill with peace. only a low snoring was heard from the other side of the bed as he relished in the idea of the person being one of the two he was most familiar with.

“gimme your sunscreen so i can put it on your back,” you ordered as you made him sit in one of the lounge chairs. his back facing you as you had moved around him. pulling it from his pocket shorts, geto handed you the tube of sunscreen quickly. his fingers brushing over your own in the process. pulling the hair tie that held half of his hair up out of his hair, you worked to gather all of his hair and pull it into a man bun. the expanse of his broad shoulders fully revealed with his lack of a shirt, your stomach fluttering at the sight.

then his thoughts began again.

geto did not shy away from his feelings mentally. he knew he was in love with the two of you equally. so the events with gojo were like a slap in the face. they affected him much more than he had let on. but how could he show that when he knew you both would look at him differently if he were to confess? so, he had begun to cling on to hope that things would resolve themselves after a while — to no avail.

your hands running across his back, around his shoulders, and near the back of his neck were enough to plummet him into the many times he had wished you were with him daily. wished your arms were wrapped around him as you held him, running your fingers through his hair.

“here,” you said as your arm jutted out over his shoulder, handing him the tube of sunscreen back. geto’s own hand grabbed at your wrist subconsciously as he pulled your arm to him and pressed a kiss into your warm skin as you broke him out of his thoughts. an action that made your breath hitch in your throat.

that’s new, you thought.

but geto had no reaction to what he had done as he grabbed at the sunscreen. as if it were just a normal interaction between you two. muttering about something under his breath that you could not hear. then he stood quickly, pulling the lever on the lounge chair to allow the back to lay flat.

“lay down, let me put yours on,” geto almost demanded. “take the skirt off; you’ll be uncomfortable.” something had clearly gotten under his skin, especially with the way he had reacted unusually, but you figured it would be best to leave it alone. having already put sunscreen on the front of your body, you removed the sarong tied around your waist, a laugh leaving your lips at his proclamation of it being a skirt.

“it’s not a skirt,” your laughter caused your words to come out choppy, “it’s called a sarong.”

“skirt, sarong. you know what i mean, princess,” geto jokes even in his grumpy mood, watching as you throw the fabric over the arm of the chair and lay down.

dammit. maybe i shouldn’t have asked you to lay down. he thought as he watched you move in order to get comfortable on the lounge chair.

your braids had been pulled into a low bun, and your back on full display. usually, geto could hide his wandering eyes, but now he was lucky you were not facing him, as he got a better look than earlier. the pink swimsuit bottoms showing just the bottom of your butt as you laid down. holding in a groan, the man pulled himself together and readied the sunscreen in his hand, rubbing at your back gently.

“sugu…,” you sighed.

“hmm?”

“have you ever thought of being a masseuse?” you questioned half-jokingly. his hands felt amazing. too amazing. it was stirring up something inside of you that should not be making itself known. a certain feeling had begun to make its way between your legs.

“no, should i? how about i make it my side job?” geto chuckled, his eyes trained on your back.

“yeah, it feels good,” you sighed and it almost made geto fall apart. “charge like a hundred dollars for a massage.”

“you must want me to go out of business with those prices. one hundred dollars right from the start of the business?”

geto laughed as he finished with the sunscreen, standing to his full height as he looked at you. your eyes closed and your face relaxed. ‘relaxed’ — something that he wished you knew at all times. but with this situation with gojo, he knew you would never be relaxed if it were left up to them.

the time by the pool was well spent; a few people had been outside too, and someone had even shown up playing music from a speaker. the volume low and mellow as the lyrics of some slower songs had played out in their entirety. the sound droned out in the background as you and geto got into the elevator, waiting for the doors to slide close.

“wait, hold it!”

a voice called out in the distance, causing geto’s hand to jut out in order to stop the automatic doors. your head lifting from your phone screen to look at the entrance of the elevator. your bright-haired best friend making his way towards you and geto.

“be nice, sugu,” you said with a small smile as you greeted the man getting into the elevator, “hey, ‘toru!”

“hey, beautiful. geto.”

oh god, you internally groaned.

“gojo.”

“we just left the pool! we wanted to invite you, but you weren’t in your apartment when we got ready.” you tried to shift the conversation as the elevator ride seemed to drag on.

“maybe next time. got a little busy this morning. had to study for my exam in my biology class tomorrow,” gojo started with a light apology, a smile playing at his lips.

“oh, you study now?”

almost had it.

geto’s words broke between you and gojo’s conversation. just as the elevator dinged, signifying you were on the fourth floor.

“mhm. guess you could say i’m turning over a new leaf,” gojo answered dryly. but there was an air of something hidden behind his words as he exited the elevator.

gojo was telling the truth, somewhat. he had been out studying. but he was home when you and geto came knocking at his apartment door. his feet were quiet against his wooden floors, as he had known the distinct little knocking pattern you had used all the time. his hand jutted out slightly to reach for the door knob, but his movements halted when he heard geto’s voice on the other side of the door too.

his smile fading just a bit as he neared the door silently. looking through the peephole at you two on the other side. you stood in front of geto, a pretty smile laying across your glossed lips as a hopeful glint played at your eyes. you looked…beautiful. geto stood behind you in just black swimming shorts and a towel draped on his shoulder. his hair half up and half down, a style that you all had grown accustomed to.

the two of you…looked beautiful.

see this was not a case of gojo being jealous of you two. no, this…this was something else.

his hand hovered over the door knob still, eyes still peering out through the peephole as your smile seemed to falter just a bit. the lack of response definitely started to steal what hope you cling on to.

“he probably isn’t home...”

geto tried to lay it out lightly, it seemed. which gojo was somewhat thankful for as he watched you both saunter off, presumably towards the swimming pool.

gojo had begun to feel guilty for his actions as time began to tick by. not only towards you, but towards geto. it was purely jealousy that had him stuck in his ways. but once again, the jealousy was not aimed towards you and geto. no, he had felt a sense of longing for the both of you for quite some time — it was ridiculous to him, honestly. for a long time, he had thought that you three were meant to be together.

his jealousy was aimed at geto and the people he had watched geto bring home—

deciding he needed some air, gojo shook his head free of any thoughts. removing himself from the door as he grabbed some of his belongings and threw them into a backpack. the walk to his suv was quiet and quick. he did not want to run into any of you when leaving the building; surely that would make for an awkward story about how he had not heard you knocking.

the library.

he had decided he was going to go to the library. hell, you would probably be proud of him for thinking of going to the library rather than the pool. the thought made him push a little chuckle through his lips as he started the black suv. working his way through the parking lot.

he wanted the both of you in his arms. not to be distancing himself from geto, and ultimately feeling like he’s causing you stress. he had not learned to deal with his emotions, had not matured in a way that could allow him to feel like he would not be hurt if he were to just tell this all to geto. or maybe even to you. which he did not understand.

he never had a hard time expressing himself.

he never hid anything from you two.

he never held a grudge.

gojo had begun to wonder if he was experiencing heartbreak from someone he had never even been with. why was it making him so bitter? why did it make seeing geto’s face such a hard task? why was his brain a mixture of emotions when around the two of you?

this was not right; you two were his best friends. he needed to talk to you at some point. have a sit-down and just let everything out. but how? how would he even bring it up?

“hey, i’m in love with the both of you. you both drive me insane. i would give you both the world. also, i am so deathly afraid of geto hurting the both of us emotionally.”

gojo let out a laugh to himself behind the steering wheel.

“i sound like i’m losing my fucking mind.”

he was losing his mind.

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