#tech-wd | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jedi-hawkins · 10 days

Text

Flowers for the Doctor

The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!

Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!

Event Masterlist

@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor

@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives

@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech

@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody

@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

@l-lend - Wolffe

@moonstrider9904 - Howzer

@eyecandyeoz - Waxer

Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!

Pairing: Kix x f!reader

Chosen Flower: St. John's Wort

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Notes: Medical terminology, pandemic, sickness and death, brief suggestive content, friends to lovers

Beta-read by @anxiouspineapple99

The helmet of your hazmat suit hisses as you release the seal. A deep sigh passes your lips as you step out of your suit and hang it on the rack for decontamination. When you open the door to the decontam stalls, the creak echoes around the tiled room.

'Damn. All this and we can’t even get some WD-40 on the hinges?' You think to yourself before stripping down to your skivvies and stepping under one of the spouts. The doors from the infectious disease ward open again and a friendly face steps in.

“Kix.”

He smiles at you as he strips down to his briefs and steps under a spout. “Long day, Doc?”

You can’t even muster a reply as you close your eyes and hit the red button in front of you. For just a single moment, the rest of the hospital fades away with the roar of the sonic waves washing over you, and then it’s over.

“That good, huh?” Kix notes your response, or lack thereof.

You shake your head, trying to keep it together. “I’ve had better.”

Kix holds the door to the locker room open for you as you step through. “At least you don’t have to wear the clone kit all day.” He says, tossing you a pair of clean blacks from the cabinet. “On the battlefield it’s great, but here I bump around like a pinball. I’m lucky if I can make it through the day without breaking anything.” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

The corner of your mouth does twitch a little. “I don’t know.” You respond, “I’ve always thought I looked like a hutt in those hazmat suits, and the gloves are so annoying.”

“Dinner?” Kix simply asks.

“Please.”

He leads the way to the hospital cantina. You met Kix just a couple weeks ago, but the two of you had become fast friends. He was a clone medic, sent to your planet to help in one of the hundreds of makeshift ‘hospitals’ that had popped up in the wake of a pandemic. This particular hospital was housed in an academic campus, shut down because of the spreading illness.

Normally, you were the second in command in the biggest hospital in the planet’s capital, but for the past month your days consisted of random converted buildings, biohazard suits, and patients you felt like you couldn’t do anything for. At the end of the day, you were thankful Kix had been stationed at your hospital.

Though you two were usually preoccupied with your own patients throughout the day, the pair of you could usually be found together on your breaks. It felt like Kix truly saw you and your struggle. Sure, the hospital Medical Director was the top dog, calling the shots, but you were the one in the trenches of the Infectious Disease Ward every day.

This pandemic was an enigma that you just couldn’t figure out. It should have just been the normal yearly wave of Wet Lung, easily managed by some general antibios, but those didn’t work. Then your Medical Director ordered you to move up to more aggressive drugs, so you did. Before you knew it, your patients were on IV drips of the most aggressive antibio cocktail you could think of.

And they still weren’t getting better, in fact, they were getting worse. You’d already lost a number of patients to sepsis, blood poisoning, and the other hospitals across the planet were facing the same issues. As far as you knew, any person that had caught this mysterious strain of Wet Lung were either dead or dying and there was nothing you could do about it.

You nearly bump into Kix when he stops to open the cantina door.

“Coruscant to Doc, are you okay?” He asks, guiding you through the door with a hand on your lower back.

You shake your head, trying to clear it. “Yeah, Kix. Just a long shift, you know?”

He squeezes your shoulder before grabbing a tray and heading to the serving line. Even though the Republic had brought the war to your Planet a few months ago, you had to admit their support was needed for this pandemic. And nobody knows how to feed the masses quite like the GAR.

Kix immediately starts eating when you two sit down, he told you about one of his brothers, Fives: 'If you didn’t eat quickly around him, he’d swipe the rest of your rations.'

You just can’t bring yourself to eat, instead you just chase a few peas around your tray. Of course, Kix notices.

“Jahaal'got.” He says, using your nickname to grab your attention. “Come on. Talk. It wasn’t just a long day.”

You avoid his eyes, the words getting stuck in your throat. You’ve lost patients before, multiple in one day even, so why was today crushing you so badly?

Kix sets down his fork and reaches across the table to gently grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “How many did you lose today?”

You take a deep breath, “Twelve, eight more deteriorating. I just… I don’t get it, Kix. What are we missing? The drugs aren’t working, they keep going septic before we can catch it, and those that haven’t progressed to sepsis are dying to the Wet Lung.”

Kix stops your rambling by taking both your hands in his. “You remember what your nickname means, right?”

You should be able to remember, but your mind has been so overworked, it doesn’t come to you. “I, uh… something about medicine?”

“Jahaal’got.” Kix repeats it. “It’s the mando term meaning 'good for health', because that’s what you are. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s all you can do.”

You nod, closing your eyes and rolling your head to try to release the tension in your shoulders.

“You’re off tonight, right?” Kix asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “I picked up the night shift, I have to be here.”

Kix scoffs at you. “Are you serious? What, you’re just going to sleep on the hospital floor forever?”

“Not forever.” You protest. “Just until this blows over.”

“This pandemic or the war?”

You meet his eyes, and a knowing look passes between you. After meeting him, you had discussed sending in an application to become a civilian medic for the GAR.

“Well, we have an hour before the night shift starts.” Kix says, standing up and taking your tray. “Why don’t we go for a walk and then try again at this ‘food’ thing before going back to work?”

Your brow furrows at his remark, “But you-”

“Will also be working the night shift, so it seems.” He cuts you off. He shifts both trays into one hand and holds his other out to help you out of your seat.

Kix leads the way, dropping the trays in the wash basin on the way out of the cantina. Outside, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky with shades of orange, pinks and purples.

The two of you walk through the academic campus, chatting about nothing in particular. Kix asks you a few questions here and there about the buildings you all pass. Though it’s been a few years, you tell him what you remember about studying here.

“It’s a shame all the students had to be sent home.” You remark as you step into the university greenhouses.

Kix nods his agreement. “What is this place?” He asks, looking around.

“The campus greenhouses, they're shared by a few departments.” You explain. “Biology, horticulture, environmental studies, and engineering to name a few.”

“I’m surprised everything is still alive, don’t plants take some maintenance?”

“Well, the greenhouse forms a pretty self-sustaining environment. I remember the medical students coming in here a couple times.”

Kix tilts his head at you. “What would medical students study in here?”

“Well,” you shrug, “There are quite a few medicinal plants native to this planet. Though they aren’t quite as effective as modern medicine, they can still be used for daily management or as an additional treatment.”

The two of you weave through the greenhouse aisles for a few more minutes before you notice Kix has lagged behind. When you turn around to find him, you notice he’s hiding something behind his back.

Your eyes narrow. “What do you have there, Kix? It’s not a bug, is it? That was only funny the first time.”

He chuckles, “Haha, no. I promise it’s not. Here, one last thing to brighten your day.”

You freeze when you notice what he has in his hand.

Kix notices your expression at the small yellow flowers he’s holding out to you. “What, are they poisonous or something?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head smiling as you take them from him. “It’s just funny, those are St. John’s Worts.”

“Weird name.”

“It’s from local mythology.” You explain. “The flowers tend to bloom on the summer solstice, which is dedicated to their namesake.”

Kix looks from you to the flowers and gently picks a few more sprigs from the nearby planter, tucking them behind your ear. “They’re pretty, like something else I’m looking at.”

His words make you smile, but you playfully swat at his arm. “Oh stop it. I know I look like hell.”

“You look better than anyone else would after nearly a month of non-stop work in an infectious disease ward.” He responds.

“Thanks Kix.” You say, hoping that your sincerity projects. Before you know it, you’re throwing your arms around his neck.

Kix falters, but only for a second. You feel his arms wrap around you, strong and steady, just like him. Just like he has been for you the past few weeks. Maybe it was his clone conditioning, or maybe it was just him, but he seemed so unshakeable and he always knew what to say.

He doesn’t relax until you do, but his hands remain on your hips, his eyes darting across your face, trying to read your thoughts. One of your hands rests on his chest, the other still on his shoulder. You won’t deny how drawn you are to him. Though you hoped for the end of this mystery illness plaguing your planet, it stung that it’s end meant saying goodbye to Kix.

Kix is shifting. ‘He’s leaning in, why is he leaning in?’

You move as well, but the moment is shattered when your foreheads bump into each other.

Kix lets go of you completely and takes a step back, color spreading across his cheeks.

“I uhhh…” He tries to find the words, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, it’s fine.” You stammer. “You’re fi- we’re fine.” A giggle slips past your lips at the awkwardness.

Kix breaks into some nervous laughter as well before readjusting some of the yellow flowers in your hair. “Tell me about them.”

You smile at him. “Well, they’re perennials, meaning they come back every year, they don’t need to be replanted. Although the flowers are yellow, they’ll stain your fingers red when you crush them. They’ve been shown to have some antidepressant properties as well as anti-inflammatory benefits, but you need to be careful when combining them with modern drugs.”

You notice Kix’s soft expression as he listens to you.

“It’s been shown that St. John’s Wort has antibio and antiviral properties as we-'' Your heart stops. “Kix.”

“What?”

“Kix, that’s it,” you repeat. “That’s why we keep losing them. We’ve been treating this Wet Lung with antibios, but those aren’t working because it’s not bacterial.”

Kix’s mouth drops open and he says the words at the same time as you. “It’s viral.”

You can see the thoughts tumbling in his head. “And because we advanced to use the system-wide drugs, the patient’s are too weak to fight the virus, triggering the sepsis.” He stammers out. “But, wait, that can’t be right. How can it be viral? There’s never been a case of viral Wet lung reported on this planet.”

Your feet move automatically as you start pacing. “‘There’s always a patient zero. Normal trade is scanned and sanitized.” You stop. “The troopers.”

Kix’s brow furrows. “No, we're vaccinated.”

“Yes, but vaccines aren’t a foolproof plan, with a mutated strain it might present as a mild cold, or not even show symptoms, especially since you all are engineered to have a more robust immune system.” You say, your brain moving a klick a minute. “Where were you all stationed before being deployed here?”

“Most of the 501st was on shore leave on Coruscant.” Kix replies, shaking his head. “The Carnivore and Execute Battalions… They were on Rhodia and transferred directly here for the occupation.”

His eyes widen and he grabs your wrist without another word.

“Kix? Kix!” You shout as he drags you through the campus back towards the hospital. “Why is it so important that you were on Rhodia?”

“Rhodia is one of the native planets for viral strains of Wet Lung.” He pants. “The Rhodians are largely immune, but some mutated strains survive. You were right, we had a couple troopers reporting colds when they transferred.”

The doors to the Infectious Disease Ward bang open and Kix finally lets go of your wrist, giving you a moment to breathe.

“Like you said, the troopers, we’re engineered to have stronger immune systems and we’re vaccinated.” He continues. “The population here…”

“We never have.” You finish his sentence. “We don’t have any kind of immunity. Combined with your theory that it’s a mutated strain and the antibios we’ve given them, it’s no wonder-”

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”

The two of you turn and see the Medical Director storming down the nearby hallway.

Kix steps partially in front of you and stands at attention. “I’m sorry sir, but we-”

“I don’t care what you two were doing!” The Director booms. “You bursting in here is no excuse.”

You slowly step out from behind Kix. “Please, sir. We think we’ve figured out this pandemic.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m in charge here.” The Director says, his eyes narrowing.

Instead of bowing away as usual, you stand your ground. “I am just as qualified as you, if not more. I'm the one that's been running this ward while you sit in your office. I graduated from this very campus, top of my class and I’m the second in command at the Capital Hospital. This disease we’re dealing with, it has to be viral.”

Your Medical Director looks you up and down, pausing at the yellow flowers in your hair. “There has never been a case of viral Wet Lung reported on this planet. The antibios always work. We just need to find the right combination of meds.”

“Sir, you need to listen.” You insist. “I know we’ve always treated Wet Lung with antibios, but look,” You wave your arm at the ward behind him. “Every single patient that’s come in is either still sick or has progressed to sepsis. The other hospitals are reporting the same.”

Kix puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “She’s right, sir. Strains of viral Wet Lung are common in other systems. We had a couple battalions transfer here from one of those systems, Rhodia. It’s likely some of our troopers were carriers for a mutated variant and brought it here.”

You pick up where Kix left off. “Even though our population doesn’t have any innate immunity, a fair amount of people probably could have ridden out the virus if we hadn’t given them those antibios.” You bite your lip before continuing. “Those drugs are effective, but in a patient with no bacterial infection, all it would do is compromise their system. They can’t fight the virus, and they progress to sepsis. Only we’re not catching it before it kills them because the Wet Lung is masking the sepsis symptoms.”

You try to stop the words from spilling over your lips but in a last desperate plea for your officer to understand, it slips out.

"We’re killing them."

Kix’s hand squeezes firmly on your shoulder as you let out a choked sob. Your medical officer looks at you curiously, you’ve always been so level headed and sure footed.

The Director crosses his arms. "So you’re telling me to take them off the drugs and do nothing. You do know that’s how we treat viruses, right?"

You lock eyes with him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We need to give them supportive treatment; fluids, steroids, pain medication. We can try some antivirals to weaken the Wet Lung strain, but the patients will have to fight it off on their own. All we can do is give them the best chance possible.”

Your director looks you up and down before letting out a little ‘hm.’ He glances behind him to the infectious disease ward and back to you. “I will not take responsibility when this goes wrong. Looks like we’re taking your direction now, Doctor.”

Under your instruction, all of the patients in the ward are removed off the antibio cocktail. Much to your Medical Director's annoyance, the death rate begins to improve. You sent word to the other hospitals caring for pandemic patients and they saw similar results. It’s a slow process, and Kix stays by your side every step of the way. The day you discharged your first survivor, you cried. You both did, actually.

It takes a few more weeks, some patients are touch and go. There were still a few deaths, and Kix held you as you cried for them. Then came the day that you got the news. Your patient numbers had reduced so much your little makeshift hospital was going to be closed, and you were being sent back to the Capital Hospital with a new position, no less. Your remaining patients would be transferred along with you and the University was going to be reopened.

And yet, you weren’t quite happy. Sure you’d basically saved your planet’s population from facing extinction, but you couldn’t revel in it knowing that a certain someone was going to be shipped out.

“The campaign here is over.” Kix had explained. “And with the pandemic contained, there’s no reason for the medics to stay behind.”

The 501st was being sent to Ryloth. You knew there was a crisis brewing there, and you were proud that you knew some of the brave men going to help there, but it still stung. It stung the same as your eyes did as you stand on the landing platform, waiting for someone to come say goodbye.

“There you are.” He says, walking up behind you.

You sniff slightly, trying to keep tears from pricking at your eyes. “Here I am.”

You hear a bit of laughter and you notice a group of clone troopers in blue armor across the landing platform that seem very interested in the two of you.

“Don’t pay attention to them.” Kix says, moving in front of you to block them from view. “Brothers…” He mumbles.

“I get it.” You say, searching his face, what for you’re not quite sure.

Kix reaches for a pouch on his belt. “I- I have something for you.” He says, sheepishly pressing a box into your hands.

Looking down you realize it’s a jewelry box. Gently you open the lid and gasp at the sight of what lays inside. Strung on a delicate chain is a single golden pendant of a flower. The same flower that Kix had tucked into your hair all those weeks ago. The same flower that led to the salvation of your planet.

“Kix… I don’t know what to say.” You stammer.

“Don’t say anything,” he says sweetly. “Just turn around for me.”

He takes the necklace from the box and gently brushes your hair out of the way before clasping the chain around your neck. Turning back around you can only shake your head and smile at him.

“I have something for you too.” You say.

Kix looks at you a little puzzled, he hadn’t seen you holding anything.

“They’re naming the new wing of the hospital after you.” You explain. “It’ll be like you’re always here. No one will forget what you did for us, for me.”

Kix gingerly cups your cheek with one hand. “It was an honor and a privilege.”

He’s leaning in again.

This time your lips connect and the landing platform melts away. There’s nothing but him. Him and you.

Of course your heart has to ruin it as it sinks with the returning thought that he’s literally about to leave and never come back. You break the kiss, but he keeps your foreheads pressed together.

“What is it?” He breathes.

You can’t help but scoff. “You’re leaving and we’re kissing. I doubt the GAR will give you much time for visits.”

“Hey,” Kix says gently holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s like you said, I’ll always be here, jahaal'got. I will admit I should’ve kissed you sooner.”

“Hey lovebird! It’s time to go!” One of his brothers shouts.

That manages to get a laugh out of the two of you.

“I think you have to go.” You mutter.

Kix lets you go and takes a step back. “There’s one more thing, but it’s waiting in your office.”

He turns to leave, but you reach out and grab his bracer. “Kix. Thank you. For everything.”

With a smile, he leans in to peck you on the cheek before turning and jogging over to the shuttle where his brothers are waiting.

A grin spreads across your face when you see one with shoulder pauldrons wrap his arm around Kix’s neck to give him a noogie, while another with a top knot of hair claps him on the back.

The sun is setting by the time you get back to your office. The door slides open with a gentle woosh. It’s a nice space, though somewhat empty as you have yet to move most of your stuff over from your old office. On your desk is a vase of small yellow flowers. You find yourself shaking your head again as you walk closer.

Kix… when will he stop absolutely melting your heart?

When you didn't think he could surprise you any more, you realize the flowers in the vase are ceramic. Tucked in between some of the delicate blooms is a notecard. You instantly recognize Kix’s swooping handwriting.

‘I think I need to make an appointment with the Doc, I seem to have been bitten by the love bug. (augh, that was awful, Jesse told me it would be good) I hope you like these, you deserve real ones, but had a local artist make them for you since I won’t be around to make sure real ones never wilt. I’ll see you soon, jahaal'got, on my next shore leave.’

Also Happy Birthday @arctrooper69! (today, May 20th)

#cloneflowerficevent #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #star wars tcw #tcw #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw kix #kix #501st #501st legion #kix x reader #st. john's wort

126 notes · View notes

janecklyn · 7 months

Text

@night-the-tech-support-drone this is for you!

DD! Uzi wing cuddles with WD N!

#requests #md swap au #dd uzi #wd N #swap uzi #murder drones #serial designation n #uzi doorman #nuzi #enzi #biscuitbites

174 notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 7 months

Note

I have a tech-related question... Do you have recommendations for types or bands of external hard drives? I'd like to move my photos off of the cloud. I plan on printing some, but I'd like a long-lasting digital drive, too. Is either SSD or hard disk more stable / safe in the long term? Do they go bad? Should I plan on buying a new one every few years? Thanks!

I'd say for physical storage that you don't need constantly and doesn't need to be fast, you'd be fine with an HDD - Western Digital My Passport backup drives cost between about $50-$150 depending on the size, with 5TB being the largest. Those are fairly reliable (I'd recommend staying away from WD for SSDs for a while; they have had a BAD problem with SSDs in certain lines for quite a while).

HDDs do go bad eventually, but you can recover data from an HDD while if an SSD loses data it's just gone. I'd say plan to replace every 5-7 years just to be on the safe side, but you'll likely find that the drives actually last longer than that.

You can also look into getting archival DVDs and storing data on those, but depending on how much data you have that might not be practical or affordable. Archival optical media lasts quite a long time - 10-20 years is the general estimate - but you need a working optical drive (you can buy an external) and a plan for storage and access.

I personally use an external hard drive that I replace every five years and I hang on to the old drives I'm replacing just in case; I haven't actually had any of those old drives fail on me yet and I'm on my third one. But 5 years is the reliable lifespan of most platter drives, so that's the recommended replacement date.

157 notes · View notes

more-cardigan-than-woman · 1 year

Note

Could you do a Jason Toddx fem!!superhero!!x reader

Where they are in some sort of mission and they are in a abandoned lab and so the reader finds a weird chemical and doesn’t know what it is and it is sex pollen and you can go from there

Thanks

Took me a few days to get to. Wouldn't recommend working in a tourist destination during the school holidays. But, here we go.

Experimental.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, sex pollen, chocking, ass play, rough, binding, spitting, breaking desks, Vigilante Reader (Fulcrum), shitty after-care, multiple Os, masks stay on.

1,500 Wds.

Vigilante!ReaderxTheRedHood

"Why are we here again?"

"Is this not your idea of a fun night out?"

"Red…" you stare at him through your mask.

"Ivy gave the building to the city for their affordable housing project. So we're just making sure all the dangerous shit is gone before construction starts next week."

"It literally looks like a makeshift lab. Isn't all this stuff dangerous?"

"Probably," he says, making his way past you and into the main area where all the tech seems to be.

"What are we doing with it?"

"Just unplug everything. Knowing them, they'll donate all this." he waves at the various machines. "to the university. We just gotta make sure no one's going to hurt themselves on a rose thorn or anything."

"Seems like busy work. I thought we'd be fighting crime."

"Yeah? We can fight if you want? Keep ya on your toes and all that." The Red Hood says, taking off his helmet. Your not surprised that there's another mask under the helmet, though you do wonder how that could possibly be comfortable. He ignores your shock, placing the helmet on the desk.

"Nah, your heart isn't in it."

You're just about done wrapping cords and covering the machines in plastic when you spot something under one of the desks, "this drugs? Wanna get high?" You ask, picking up the swirling pink vial.

"What?" The Red hood turns, his eyes going wide as he sees what's in your hand, "Fulcrum be careful that's-" he rushes towards you as the vial slips between your gloves and plunges onto the ground smashing into a million pieces. The pink dust drifts up, disappearing into the air.

"What was that?" You stare down at your feet, the Red Hood's hand just inches from where the glass shattered, "I didn't get any on you, did I?"

"Shit. Shit, knew I shouldn't have taken the helmet off," he panics, standing up and taking your face in his hand, "did you breathe any of it in?"

"I don't know?"

"Fulcrum. Listen," his fingers are so soft on your cheek, and he's so tall. Shit, what is that smell? It's like fireworks and fresh buttery popcorn. You want to eat the smell from his skin.

"Wow, you know I never noticed how sharp your cheekbones were before."

"Fuck. You breathed it didn't you?"

"Maybe, I feel kinda… hot? Like every pulse of my blood is tingling down to my.." You unzip your uniform to try and get some air in your lungs, your hands moving to fan your face.

"To where?" he grabs you hands. His eyes travel down your body, observing how tightly the jumpsuit fits you, hugging every single curve and pushing your tits up out the top. The delicate taste of new books and fresh coffee lingering in his nose as he notices how long your eyelashes are, how they caress your delicate mask. He wonders what your eyes look like under there, if they're as pretty as the rest of you.

"Everywhere," you smirk, bringing yourself onto your tip toes so you can put your hands up and around his neck, "I ah-" you stare into the whites of his domino mask, "I don't know why I'm," you push your body closer to his, feeling the hard armor that lay between you, "i- please tell me to stop."

"I won't," His fingers grip at your face pulling your lips to hiss and the fire inside him burning all the way down to his cock as he grinds it into your stomach. The animal inside grows with every second. His hands a mind all its own as he palm at your ass, before picking you up. Your hands finding their way between your bodies to rip at his belt.

"Fuck, please," You pant, finally managing to slip the buckle open and palm at his thickness between you.

"Get this off," He moans into your neck, "quickly," his lips trace a line down your shoulder. "Takin too long, Fulcrum. I need you now," he growls, unzips you with a yank, your arms still caught in the material and he frees your pussy, "you always go commando in your suit?" He asks licking his way down your torso and pushing you back into an empty desk.

"Yes, feels better." You yelp as he flips you onto your tummy, your arms pinned behind you in the jumpsuit. "Please fuck me," his cock already seeping into your pussy.

"Fuuucck," he growls as he plunges into you, a tiny piece of relief from the burning inferno comes from your pulsing cunt surrounding him. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts like a wild dog, too lost in trying to find relief as you moan for him.

"More, I need more,"

"Fuck, not right now,"

"Red, please, please, Red, please," you buck back into him. You hear a sucking sound before his thick thumb is thrust into your ass.

"Better?" His voice wild and full of lust, "fuck I can feel myself inside you." He starts to shake, "feels so fuckin good."

"Yes, so good." You grind back into him, your holes full, "fuck I'm getting…" you feel the light building inside as you pulse around his thick cock. Your hands grasping behind you to try and find some kind of purchase as you writhe underneath him.

"Fuck.." your convulsing pussy has him in a vice as he tries to pulls out, instead his cum floods. You and he feels a tiny bit of relief as he pulls out. "Get your arms out," he demands, stepping back.

"Why isn't it going away?" You plead, wondering just how much more of this you can take.

"Because I'm not done," he growls, fisting his still hard cock. "turn around."

You're only onto your side when he pushes you back into the desk and his cock is stretching you out again. The old desk rattles and shakes with how hard he's fucking you. Your hands grip onto the collar of his jacket so hard, you just need him, need him like you need the air in your lungs.

Wrapping your legs around him you bring him in, your hand pulling him down until your mouths are as messy as your pussy. Desperate pleasure is the only thing on your mind as you chase the high.

"Open your mouth," he squeezes at your cheeks, "good," his spit hangs from his tongue as it drips into your mouth, "dirty girl, swallow it," you gulp down his saliva, the wetness relieving some of the dryness in your throat.

"Close again, so fucking close, baby." He bites into your breast.

"Me too, me too fuck Red, I-" you lose your mind, letting go underneath him until your legs start to cramp around him.

"You still feel it?" He asks, his voice a little more normal now. He can feel it dimming even if he's still hard, just one more he thinks. Fuck, he wants to fuck you all night. Your pretty little cunt takes him so well. Those pretty, insane moans your making for him, he wants his heads clogged full of them forever.

"Yes," you mostly lie, "like a fire in my tummy that won't go out," but you can feel the effects of whatever that was wearing off. But you want him to stretch you out on him indefinitely.

"Make room for me," he climbs up onto the desk with you, the wood creaking underneath. "Give me those legs."

"Jesus," you moan as you lift your legs over his shoulders, his huge cock plunges in deeper than before. His hand strong wraps around your throat, "can't breathe." You mouth at him, a dazed fog starts to fill your head, while you stare into the whites of his mask and cling to his arms.

"I know baby," he pants as he starts to slowly fuck into you. "I'm breathtaking." The desk creaks underneath you, the wood starting to rattle as he pounds into you.

"Red,"

"Fuckin perfect," he ignores you, the desk shifts again before the legs give way and with a splat your both fucking into the ruins of this old ass piece of furniture.

His fingers find their way into your ass, pumping into the tight hole in rhythm with his cock, "so fucking full," you moan as his tongue slides into your mouth.

"Red," you moan into his mouth feeling the last of the dust wearing off and you just enjoy the feeling, your hands grip into his hair keeping his face close as you grind up and press your clit into his pelvis. "So fuckin good."

"So fucking tight," he growls, speeding up and biting down on your lip

This time when you cum, relief fills your blood and you can feel your thoughts float to the surface as you both come down from the high and are left a heaping, sweaty mess on the shards of the desk.

"Are you alright?" He asks, his hands drifting over where he was gripping your neck, "you don't have splinters or anything?"

"Yeah, I think I'm ok. Are you?"

"Better than ok. But I think we need to find some water." He kisses your cheek before standing and righting his pants. "Found a tap that works," he beams, rinsing out a beaker before filling it with water and bringing it over to where you're trying to get your jumpsuit back on.

"No one can know about that," you say as you stroke your fingers through his hair.

"Agreed, Nightwing would never let me live it down."

"But Red?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I would like to do it again."

"Ivy's pollen?"

"No," you smack into his armor, hurting your hand more than him.

"I think we could arrange that."

#red hood x reader #reader x red hood #red hood fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd #reader x jason todd #jason todd fanfic #x reader #No Metas in Gotham #Vigilante!Reader #Req always open

292 notes · View notes

day-at-rhodes-island · 8 months

Note

I have a question for you (well many questions really, big fan of your blog by the way),

do you think it’s plausible that the Sarkaz created originium?

I ask for two reasons: First, in the “A Walk in the Dust” event (WD-7 after story) it’s mentioned twice that the special blue originium crystals were found in a specific ancient sarkaz ruin (and also that current technology can’t replicate them). Second, that smug sanguinarch goes on a tirade in the main story (11-17 before story) where he says that the sarkaz and everybody else have different origins and that all of terra used to be kazdel.

This strongly suggests to me that any ancient sarkaz ruin was probably a teekaz settlement or something and that any super hi-tech stuff found within was teekaz technology. So my thinking is that if originium was created by somebody for whatever reason, it was probably them.

Excellent question! I appreciate the cited sources.

While the ancient Sarkaz did create new variants of originium (the diαbolic shards that were used to create Ifrit are another example), I don't think they created originium itself. Not because of anything that disproves it, but because I think there's a more likely option.

There is a different ancient race of people that has been consistently associated with supertechnology: whatever the hell Doctor is. My best guess (with the information we have right now) is that they were the ones responsible, and Kazdel came after.

#I do love answering a good question #as an aside you should probably give your blog a title and a profile picture or people will assume you are a bot and block you #arknights #originium #ramblings

31 notes · View notes

vintage-tech · 1 month

Note

So of your tech youve accrued, have you considered restoring any to working conditions or do you deem it more important to maintain the parts it already came with?

Who said I didn't use the stuff I have? ;-) Most of the stuff I have accrued is in working condition, sometimes by my having to unscrew and fiddle with it but others there wasn't anything a little WD-40 and a can of compressed air couldn't spiff up.

The Boomers aren't kidding when they say stuff was made better in yesteryear. There is only ONE thing I own that isn't up to the level I want it to be, and that is my mother's Lionel train set, which dates back to the early 1950s. Yes, it does run, but since it's not been run in decades you have to throw the switch all the way up to full throttle to get it to move, and then it tries to re-enact a scene from Back To The Future 3... there is no in-between of pulling out of the station slowly and moving around the tracks at a normal pace. Yet.

13 notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 2 years

Note

Seeing as the blackwatch team got an interaction, have any in mind for tracer's strike team? Maybe some gency teasing?

I'm a console peasant so the game servers aren't even trying to connect for me. So this is how I cope.

----

Sojourn: Oh-ho! Havana crew back together! Hope you four are paying attention, because I had a lot of notes for that mission.

Winston: G-good notes, right?

Sojourn: *doubtful* Mmm...

Winston: Oh dear.

---

Tracer: Hey! Doc, guess what? Guess what? Guess what Doc--?!

Mercy: Tracer, I think we should just focus on the miss--

Tracer: I OUTRANK YOU!

Mercy: ...and?

Tracer: And... and you... used to outrank me... but I answered the Recall first and... um...

Mercy: And do you know how to treat arterial bleeding?

Tracer: Er--I mean--I really didn't mean to say... um...

Mercy: Stay calm, commander. We'll need your intrepid leadership.

Tracer: *frustrated noise*

---

Mercy: Speaking of ranking--Winston, how's leadership treating you?

Winston: I am terrified literally every second of every day, Doctor!

Mercy: It's a bit... concerning... how chipper you seem to be about it.

Winston: *painful forced laugh*

----

Genji: Sojourn? What do you do when you get... stuff caught in your prosthetics?

Sojourn: Honestly really depends on what's getting stuck in there. Sometimes it's a hairdryer situation, sometimes vacuum, sometimes WD-40.

Genji: What do you do for a quarter?

Sojourn: Genji--Do I want to know how and where you got a quarter stuck in your prosthetics?

Genji: It's in my leg and I was trying to dig out a pebble. I've tried doing handstands, but it's really in there.

Sojourn: *sigh* Doc, I'll let you take this one.

---

Winston: Honestly, I'm still amazed everyone was able to come on such short notice. I'd really like to apologize that the Watchpoint's infirmary isn't as up to date as I'd like...

Genji: Most of the tech in remarkable condition, Winston. I would say the biggest issue is bypassing the late-night security protocols to continue working.

Winston: I... um... was addressing Doctor Ziegler.

Genji: *immediately embarrassed* Oh! Of course! Obviously Angela--I mean Doctor Ziegler is the final authority on these things, I was merely remarking on some things she offhandedly mentioned to me and--that is--well, of course sometimes I offer my assistance in the lab but it's purely--

Mercy: *flatly* Genji, they know.

Sojourn: Everyone knows.

Tracer: I didn't--! Naaaawww, I'm kidding. I know.

#fanteractions #gency

107 notes · View notes

superwingscentral · 10 months

Text

Pirate AU Masterpost (AU name pending)

since im a person who like to make aus that does not fit with the canon at all, im gonna go all batshit with this one lets go. i havent made proper aus in a long time hhhh

my english went scrawny all over in some places so im sorry for that :'D this post is also extremely messy so buckle up yall

They're gonna be humans in this AU, because I have no idea how to incorporate planes in a setting like this. (also i think it may or may not fit since 'advanced tech'...does not really exist. it isn't set during old times though, it doesn't have a clear time period because it isn't set in our earth.)

The characters don't have clear designs, but FYI, I'm personally going to use my own gijinka designs for visuals like 'screenshot redraws' in this.

Anyway...if you have questions or suggestions, you can ask away! (they help a lot to build my art/stories geniunely + also i think this post is all over the place oh god)

Some parts were inspired from the suggestions given by @stormvanari , ty so much!!!✨️✨️

■■■

This world is filled with islands, but without a clear bridge between them. So the only and the safest way of transportation is with, well, ships. This includes supplies too.

Pist, one of the small islands, took charge of transferring supplies to the other islands due to its location, under the name of "World Delivery". "WD" in short. (the reason for that is the amount of way to the other islands are pretty much same. Although visitors are not really common in the island, even if it's in the center of the whole ocean. It's not a touristic place. People prefer going to Gire, or Dimdi.)

Jimbo-Sky-Storm are 3 of the residents in Pist, and they are in the charge of this delivering organization. Jimbo is the head of it, Sky and Storm are second-hands.

A client sends a letter to WD about what they want, and boom. If there are smaller orders, they'll be sent by small ships. If the order clashes with a supply delivery, it'll be sent with a big delivery ship. Still fast. (residents of pist usually go to there themselves to order. its close)

There is a factory in Pist to produce the supplies (although rumors say the trio uses an extra deal to make their delivery items because there are almost no workers in the factory...)

Storm manages the factory, Sky is in the charge of managing the delivery ships.

There are many ships that work directly for World Delivery HQ (most of them being Pist residents), but there are freelancer ships that come to help them from time to time.

(I divided them in a quite strange way honestly, because I didn't want to seperate the s1 quartet or some 'squads' sorry xP Also FYI: there are many ships. So they don't only consist SW characters. Think of them as...extras? yeah that. i wanna make them go on a long trip once and i dont wanna put wd out of business)

●●●●

The main ships in the AU (not all of them work in Pist but when they pass by they do work for them sometimes. i was gonna put them all under the same workplace but then scrapped that)

Speedy (they're still working on the name. the other three teases the hell out of jett because of this): Consists of only Jett, Dizzy, Donnie, Jerome. Smallest ship with a crew of only 4 people. They reside in Pist, and they're the only ship out of all the SW ships that is actively working for WD.

(well, except for the time they all suddenly disappeared one day on a journey. Turns out they sneaked out.)

Neptune: Mira, Bello, Swampy, Wily, Sparky, Neo. They never stay on islands, instead they live in their ship. It's bigger than Jett's, so it has extra rooms for other things like a greenroom. Speaking of, the crew has a reputation of making herbs and medicines due to their master use of plants (thanks to the captain and her first mate.) They pass Pist by all the time, and help them deliver things, mainly medicine.

Goldstar: Paul, Kim, Badge, and numerous other officers. They're a security ship, and Blackbird is number 1 on their hit list. They're usually sent by Miz, to catch thieves and sometimes to hunt monsters. (But the crew of Goldstar has no idea about what Miz is doing after they hand over the criminals or the monsters, because they're constantly on missions.)

Although their beef with Blackbird's captain is a personal case, not Miz's (mostly for Paul).

Loyalty: Grand Albert's restored historical ship. He travels between islands, along with his students (the top student being Narae) He used to be a famous adventurer that fought thieves who stole artifacts and returned them to their homeland, but now he retired and in prefarence of a slow, peaceful life. He's now sailing a ship-library and is open to visitors. Somehow pirates don't get too close to him.

He also has a granddaughter named Ellie (who is also his student) but she left due to her wish to sail to adventure with her own friends.

Galacti: The most mysterious ship possible. Nothing much is known about them, except for one thing: They're seen during the night. Their morals and goals are also unknown. They're also known as the ones who only know the safe ways to the North. And they home several magical artifacts: ancient spell books, weapons, mystic plants, etc. All of them are wanted by Miz, especially the captain.

Blackbird: The most notorious ship, with the crew of ruthless thieves. They love to mess with the other ships, they ambush the delivery ships while on their way, steal their goods, and scatter the 'useless' ones to the ocean for ships to crash on and sink.

Rumor say the captain Phantom used to navigate a security ship, and people wonder what led him down this path.

No one knows which islands are the crew is from, but they know for a fact that they can sail to the waters in South effortlessly. (The waters in South are also violent, so majority of security ships sunk in hopes of investigate the island.)

●●●

Tech is a bit weird in this AU. It does not exist, but it does at the same time. Phones, internet, or holograms, those stuff doesn't exist, for example.

There's a thing. It's not a common thing, it's a rumor in some islands, it's forbidden to use or even speak of it in some islands–

It's magic. Yep.

Big islands like Miz forbid anyone to ever talk about. Ironically, the most powerful professional magic user is from Miz.

Small islands like Pist though, it's mostly a rumor in there.

Anyway, the magic in this AU mostly relies on spells. Only some certain people can do it. For example, rumor say the mysterious ship Galacti can use magic effortlessly (especially the captain). But the island of Miz, the island the captain is from, can't catch them because the ship is literally invisible.

There's also another type of magic. It's not like a 'wizard-y' type, or done with spells. It affects the physical appearence, like 'monsters'.

Sea creatures are the only known 'monsters' at the moment but there are some research for other possible 'monsters' alive.

There are 3 different sea 'monsters' rn:

The 1st type: Your good ol' cliche sea creatures. They live underwater all the time, cannot go up to surface. Some of them look like a giant squid but some of them have humanoid appearence (like sirens). They're the most common.

The 2nd is: Luca-style. They appear as humans when dry. One of the main ship captains is this. No wonder she rescues people so swiftly from the water? Also the new lackey in Blackbird too, but with the addition of a siren voice.

The third type is a curse that turns the person into a fish, then a bubble. They start to appear as scales under eyes, then ears start to look like fins. At the end of two days they will turn into a full fish, then foam (curse you little mermaid /j). It has a solution though, but it can only be found in the north side of the ocean. Sadly, most people who got cursed end up meeting their demise because the North is even harder to reach than South. The ones who do would still have some side effects like: constant need for hydration and the transformation into a mer-person when dove into water.

(this is completely inspired by that one episode where jett and jerome turn into mer...planes???)

〔 There is also another type of magic, but not a third-type. Instead it's a sub-category, because this one also relies on spells. But instead of performing with bare hands, an object like a wand is needed. 〕

●●●

That's all! For now. I didn't write character introductions, because i didn't know where to put them in (alao the post would be way too long + i haven't written all of them yet.)

Idk if I write a fic based on this. Maybe I'll write snippets?

When I make the outfits, I'll maybe draw 'fake' screenshots?

#i hope this isnt too confusing #i left out some things due to my inability to organize them/having no idea where to put them without making the post more confusing 🥹#gonna post the characters in an another post (so far i have only written jett dizzy donnie jerome)#super wings #sw au #au #curses & deliveries au

10 notes · View notes

forgottenyear · 20 days

Text

[long text: ~1100 wds]

It is irrational, but I was wishing I could return to the hospital, last night. I wanted Angela close by again, but in the safe place of the hospital.

And this leaves me wondering if I push her away because I am unsure if I have the strength of will not to give in to her preference.

But I will be in a therapist’s office again by the end of the month, and we will begin the work to make us whole again. I hope.

It is a pattern that we find ourselves in conflict with authorities. We do not break the rules, necessarily, but we attract their anger anyway.

I played chess with a friend in the hospital. I described to her the challenges I find when playing games like chess. I do not have the focus for the game, but there is more to it than that.

When I play games with other people, I think of the game as a puzzle, and I want to solve the puzzle as a team with the other person. We do not solve so that one person wins and the other loses, but that we explore what can be done within the solutions.

I enjoy Scrabble most when we do not hide our letters but work to find the highest scoring words we can make of them together.

I work best with employers who do not lead from the top down. I work best with employers who lead as a team. This is why I do poorly in traditional employment organizations.

Authorities who imagine leadership in gradations of absolute power tend to see me as disrespectful of their authority. They tend to see the organizational structure as the last word on who is right and who is wrong. Then I walk in and size up the environment, as is our survival skill, and break implied rules willy nilly and unfound their authority. So, they entrench themselves over a point that is unsustainable, and that becomes the hill they will die on. They will bring me into line if it kills them.

I rarely understand why they have made such a great fuss over so little a point [“I” rarely understand, but I think the unfused part understands more quickly than I do], and neither does the rest of the world, usually. It tends to cost them credibility.

But, I can tend to be seen as attempting a coup.

The Tech Director of a theater. The Vice President of a small company. The Vice President of the next. Countless teachers. A smaller number of Sunday School Teachers. And now at least two doctors.

There is a definite pattern. And perhaps I flatter myself too much for thinking this has not come at a price to me.

As a child, we spent the most time with two friends. R was the leader because he would whine and complain endlessly if he was not. V was second because he would not be last. We followed.

But big decisions, or new ideas, tended to come from us. R and V would argue and find no compromise, then they would turn to us.

We led from behind.

At the theater, the (second) tech director over-designed sets and had the leadership skills of a four-year-old. He announced that we would work on our traditional weekly morning off before a matinee, so we said “I” would not. Nobody worked. (Between setting up for work, and then breaking down again, we could only have completed an hour of work anyway, so why not get rested up so we could do that work the next day?)

This did not blow over well, but we were employed the next season, when the TD was not invited to return.

In maybe a less than admirable way, however, we came to recognize when an authority was ready to pick a hill to die on. Experience taught us to make one hill more enticing for battle than another, then we would give them their victory. Except their battle and victory would appear unnecessary to everyone, and they would appear unreasonable and irrational as a result.

The authority figure would then need to regain credibility and to make amends, and they would be less likely to want to battle with me afterward. Or they would search for their next hill to die on. Either way, we would appear only an innocent target of their irrational anger.

While this was not the intent at the recent hospital, it may have been the result.

But no, I know that we picked the hill for the doctor to die on. This has the signature of the unfused part all over it.

I contacted a disability rights lawyer. The doctor assumed I would try to take him to court, and we both knew that my arguments would be insufficient to carry the burden of proof in a courtroom. But I kept him focused on the lawyer until I knew he had gone far enough to warrant an internal complaint against his actions. He had behaved poorly enough for the hospital to take notice, even after the lawyer had already closed out the file. The presence of the lawyer only increased the potential threat the hospital would have been under, should they condone the doctor’s bad behavior.

I initially said it was not the intent because it was pretty far from my intent. I can piece it together after the fact, to see that this had to have, at least at some point, the unfused part’s intent.

The doctor may have squeaked out of the complaint against himself easily, but we then filed a complaint against his superiors for permitting an environment in which a doctor could commit abuses. Regardless of the burden of proof, the hospital does not want risk going to court so needlessly in the future. Plus, it looks pretty bad when a doctor is allowed to freely contravene the explicit mission and values of the statewide organization that just bought them out.

We read the environment and protected ourselves from abuse. Primarily. We also gave the hospital impetus to bolster protections for those who follow. These are good things.

But I still feel the pattern of destruction that follows me. I still feel the wounds of battle.

My life would be so much easier if this was not the pattern.

We have encountered those who can see the pattern and manage to sidestep our “traps.”

Or they have been very lucky.

And then we do not protect ourselves. We do not do good things.

In these times, we walk away only with the wounds.

I take no more pleasure in victory than in defeat.

There is always a price to be paid.

2 notes · View notes