#(NO INCOME + WHAT IF I HAVE AN EMERGENCY FEARFULNESS)

[reasonsforhope]

"People across the world, and the political spectrum, underestimate levels of support for climate action.

This “perception gap” matters. Governments will change policy if they think they have strong public backing. Companies need to know that consumers want to see low-carbon products and changes in business practices. We’re all more likely to make changes if we think others will do the same.

If governments, companies, innovators, and our neighbors know that most people are worried about the climate and want to see change, they’ll be more willing to drive it.

On the flip side, if we systematically underestimate widespread support, we’ll keep quiet for fear of “rocking the boat”.

This matters not only within each country but also in how we cooperate internationally. No country can solve climate change on its own. If we think that people in other countries don’t care and won’t act, we’re more likely to sit back as we consider our efforts hopeless.

Support for climate action is high across the world

The majority of people in every country in the world worry about climate change and support policies to tackle it. We can see this in the survey data shown on the map.

Surveys can produce unreliable — even conflicting — results depending on the population sample, what questions are asked, and the framing, so I’ve looked at several reputable sources to see how they compare. While the figures vary a bit depending on the specific question asked, the results are pretty consistent.

In a recent paper published in Science Advances, Madalina Vlasceanu and colleagues surveyed 59,000 people across 63 countries.1 “Belief” in climate change was 86%. Here, “belief” was measured based on answers to questions about whether action was necessary to avoid a global catastrophe, whether humans were causing climate change, whether it was a serious threat to humanity, and whether it was a global emergency.

People think climate change is a serious threat, and humans are the cause. Concern was high across countries: even in the country with the lowest agreement, 73% agreed...

The majority also supported climate policies, with an average global score of 72%. “Policy support” was measured as the average across nine interventions, including carbon taxes on fossil fuels, expanding public transport, more renewable energy, more electric car chargers, taxes on airlines, and protecting forests. In the country with the lowest support, there was still a majority (59%) who supported these policies.

These scores are high considering the wide range of policies suggested.

Another recent paper published in Nature Climate Change found similarly high support for political change. Peter Andre et al. (2024) surveyed almost 130,000 individuals across 125 countries.2

89% wanted to see more political action. 86% think people in their country “should try to fight global warming” (explore the data). And 69% said they would be willing to contribute at least 1% of their income to tackle climate change...

Support for political action was strong across the world, as shown on the map below.

To ensure these results weren’t outliers, I looked at several other studies in the United States and the United Kingdom.

70% to 83% of Americans answered “yes” to a range of surveys focused on whether humans were causing climate change, whether it was a concern, and a threat to humanity. In the UK, the share who agreed was between 73% and 90%. I’ve left details of these surveys in the footnote.3

The fact is that the majority of people “believe” in climate change and think it’s a problem is consistent across studies."

-via Our World in Data, March 25, 2024

[hongjoongspoetry]

Just Another Night, Until You | Choi San

❤️‍🔥 Summary: Hectic nights at work is nothing out of the ordinary for you, but when a man is wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit with second degree burns all over his body and in the need of immediate medical attention, your life takes a turn as his body heals on his own by the mere presence of you. Shocked by the discovery, you stay by his side as he recovers and together you come to terms with your unexpected connection.

❤️‍🔥 Pairing(s): Firefighter!San x Emergency physician!Reader

❤️‍🔥 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, best friend's brother, oldest daughter and youngest son, slice of life, fluff

❤️‍🔥 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), brief description of burn injuries, medical setting, san is living up to his romance-cat title, pet names (darling, my love, love, honey), MC is a Jeong, a lot of physical intimacy, kisses gallore, san is down bad for the MC, brief description of motorcycle accident and fractured bones (not explicit), the fear of losing loved ones, emotional exhaustion, a few swear words, not beta read!

❤️‍🔥 Wordcount: 7.5K

❤️‍🔥 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). Wihooo! And there goes the second to last instalment of the March Event ;-; im lowkey sad it's ending soon although it gives me more time to work on other stuff!! anyhow, this one was really fun to write and I hope you'll enjoy it, be prepared for a lot of love sick sannie 🥹 Btw I'm not a nurse/doctor or have any "proper" knowledge regarding how things go down in the E.R or hospital for that matter either, so this is all based on excessive research. Thank you for your understanding!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains mature scenes such as descriptions of serious injuries, medical procedures as well as adult language. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist

It was an exceptionally calm hour in Seoul National University Hospital. Most nights were bustling with life, whether it’d be residential patients abusing the call button, relatives refusing to leave after visiting hours were over or an incoming emergency putting the whole hospital in a fit. But not tonight. The clock hanging on the wall opposite of the nurse’s station in the emergency department recently struck midnight. You slumped down by your desk as Haneul, your roommate, best friend and fellow colleague, dragged her legs behind her and nearly toppled over her seat. You finished off the last rounds of checking in on the inpatients on your floor, yet your social batteries were already drained and the nightshift had just started. 

Haneul blew a raspberry before her head dropped onto the desk with a soft thud. She groaned and threw herself back on the chair, her arms extended and legs elevated. Her slip-on shoes barely hung onto her feet and she wasn’t faring any better.

“I’m so tired,” she complained and went limp in her seat. “I can’t wait to clock out and return to my boyfriend.”

You let out an amused huff, the pencil twirling in your fingers coming to a stop as you caught it mid air. “You mean your bed?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Ha-ha, really funny Haneul.”

“It’s a bit funny, admit it!”

You rolled your eyes at her, but couldn’t fight off the smile that spread across your face. It was never a dull moment when in Haneul’s company. You were certain that even if death were around the corner, she’d still find a way to make the situation feel light. That was probably why you two had hit it off at university. She was mostly, if not always, in a cheerful mood, while you walked around with a dark cloud over your head. Had it not been for Haneul approaching you solely because your shirt was similar to one of her favorite character’s outfits in a drama, you probably would never have become friends. A decade later and you were tighter than two peas in a pod, and even decided — after your first semester — to move into a flat together which was still your current home.

“Whatever… I can’t complain as it’s at least a quiet night.”

The unspoken rule of never mentioning the obvious flashed before your eyes and you cowered from the blazing look Haneul shot your way. The air was caught in your throats and neither dared to move an inch from your places. You slowly turned your head sideways, waiting for a patient to peek their head out or scream that their pillow needed puffing up. As the empty hallway continued staying silent and the motion sensor lights didn’t turn on, you exhaled in relief.

“You got lucky there,” she said and logged into her computer. 

As you parted your mouth to answer, a voice broke through from the radio placed on the wall-mounted brackets. A report concerning a handful of people who were hurt in a fire set loose in an apartment came through and everyone ditched their tasks to get ready for the newcomers. You and Haneul, along with other nurses, ran to the trauma bay and occupied a room each where you, hopefully not, would get a patient each. The sound of multiple sirens grew louder the faster the ambulances sped toward the hospital and didn’t stop until the flashes of red and blue colored the building. Despite being employed for two years and counting, you never got accustomed to the ear piercing noise or blinding lights.

“Nurse Kim, could you prepare the wound care kit? Nurse Hwang, bring the respiratory support system. We don’t know what we’re dealing with so we need to expect the worst!”

The commotion from the triage area reached your room as the patients were being rolled into the hospital and underwent the initial assessment of their conditions. The code red patients would fall into your hands and you, together with your team, would do your utmost to lessen their injuries. You put the other glove on and waited by the door of your room. The sight before you was jarring to say the least. The victims of the fire were all in different conditions. Some crying and wincing from the burnmarks while others lay completely still as if the burned skin wasn’t a painful inconvenience. The wonders of falling unconscious. An elderly nurse with a couple of years beneath her belt pushed a stretcher toward you and you hastily moved out of the way. 

Nurse Yeon quickly spewed the little information she knew of the unconscious patient, but you couldn’t focus on her words. Your entire attention was given to the man before you. He looked peaceful despite the soot smudged across his face and several burn marks littering the majority of his body. He was also handsome — very handsome. That, you couldn’t deny. His black strands fell over his closed eyes and brows. Most of his features were sharp and defined, red heart-shaped lips in a slight pout, a long nose with a prominent bridge, high cheekbones and a few beauty marks peeking out from beneath the smeared ash. But you knew that, out of everything, his most alluring feature was his eyes — even when closed. You could see the feline-like shape that reminded you of a panther in the wild and you found yourself wondering what color they were. A tingle erupted along the pads of your fingers, almost begging you to move his hair out of the way. 

“...He was found unconscious in the building after being caught in the fire. Red category. He has second-degree burns on twenty percent of his body, severe smoke inhalation and is currently in respiratory distress. We’ve initiated oxygen therapy. BP is low and bolus fluids were administered to stabilize circulation. He is unresponsive, likely due to hypoxia.”

Nurse Yeon brought you back to the present and you ignored the highly unprofessional thought. With the help of Nurse Kim, you connected him to a monitoring machine and proceeded with the remaining steps of the protocol drilled into your spine. You administered high-flow oxygen via a non-rebreather mask to address the smoke inhalation and to prevent breathing issues later on.

Facing away from the patient to grab a scalpel in order to cut his already torn shirt, you just about turned your head and called out, “Nurse Kim, give him an IV fluid with saline to prevent shock and maintain blood pressure as well as a light dose of morphine to relieve him of pain. Nurse Hwang, hand me the scalpel, please.”

The nurses wasted no time following your orders. While Nurse Kim stabilized the patient’s blood pressure, you drove the sharp end of the scalpel through the center of his shirt to expose the injured area and assess what else you had to work with. As expected, there were blotches of irritated, red skin all over his upper body. It didn’t look too bad but would scar if left untreated. Your main concern was the smoke inhalation, but the high-flow oxygen proved effective, as the pulse oximeter showed that the oxygen saturation in his blood was slowly improving and you could swiftly move on to treat his wounds.

“Nurse Hwang, hand me the antiseptic soluti–”

A horrified gasp cut you off mid sentence and your head flung to the doorway where a nurse — a trainee at that — stood with her wide eyes and mouth hanging open behind her health mask. The interruption crawled beneath your skin like electricity. You glanced down at her nametag.

“Trainee Park?”

The student didn’t budge nor make a noise of acknowledgement and you had half a mind to terminate the established contract between the hospital and nursing school. You understood the weight of students gaining hands-on experience in a hospital setting, but it was beyond the agreement for a student to interrupt a life alternating moment for the patient.

“Trainee Park I won’t ask you a second time, what is it?!” 

Antiseptic solution in hand, you faced the student again, though her focus wasn’t on you but on something behind you. A line formed between your brows as you followed her gaze, leading to what she was staring at. Your patient still lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling in rhythmic motion, but you weren’t caught off guard by his regulated breathing. The patches of glaring red skin that previously looked painful to the eye were replaced with a lighter hue as if his body was recovering on its own. It was inhumane and in all your years as both a student and a licensed doctor, you had never seen anything like it. However, everyone in the room knew exactly what it meant.

“Fuck…”

One of the male nurses found the patient’s ID-card in the cardholder neatly tucked in the pocket of his pants while changing him into a hospital gown, but it was the teary look on Haneul after seeing the man’s face that everything clicked in place. Choi San, the little brother of your best friend, was your soulmate. 

The realization didn’t hit you while standing in the center of the trauma room or when his injuries healed more quickly beneath the touch of your finger. The fact that you had found your soulmate dawned on you early one morning, as you were making rounds between the remaining victims of the apartment fire and came across his room — the last patient to be checked on. The thought of finding your soulmate hadn’t crossed your mind in years. It was locked away in your old high school classroom, along with your youth, when you used to fret over who your soulmate might be. Would they be a foreigner? A celebrity? A boy or a girl? Rich, kind, or rude? The possibilities seemed endless, and you often spent more time daydreaming about the different outcomes than focusing on your studies. It was a miracle you didn’t fail most of your classes.

It was only when you set a goal that you lost interest in who your soulmate was and dedicated more of your time to studying. Little by little, as assignments piled up, you pushed the thought of your other half to the back of your mind and forgot about it. Of course, there were instances when the topic would come up every now and then — meeting distant relatives for the first time in forever and having them ask about your partner, or going out to dinner with Haneul and watching her get so drunk she forgets her own name, but still manages to make bets. Looks like you’d be treating her to that BBQ after all.

You entered the room and stopped at the end of the patient bed staring at San’s sleeping form. The harmless jealousy seeped into your bones as he lay there oblivious to the turmoil wrecking havoc inside of you and you wondered if, despite his unconscious state, he could feel even a glimpse of your emotions. Because you could feel him throughout your entire shift. The change in breathing, eyes fluttering, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as if he was right there with you.

The joke you once cracked to Haneul when you first started working there, something along the lines of finding your soulmate while tending to their wounds, wasn’t funny anymore and left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You sighed and glanced down at the patient chart hanging off the bedside. His vitals were good. More than good considering he was being driven straight from a burning building. Doctor Jung ran some tests on him during the night and they confirmed that San suffered greatly until he arrived at the hospital, until he reached you.

The doors of the room were violently pushed open and the eldest Choi entered as if her brother wasn’t lying there unconscious. Her unexpected arrival stopped your thoughts from spiraling further and your heart from racing into palpitations. It was weird to see her lips pressed into a thin line and eyes void of light, replacing her usual dimpled smile that would brighten your day. 

“How is he?” She eventually asked and buried her hands in the pockets of her white coat.

You cleared your throat and mimicked her stance, both of you focused on the resting man. “He’s healthier than a newborn baby.”

Five hours of constantly being on your feet, moving around and not having the chance to take a five minute toilet break put you in a hazy mist. It wasn’t until now that you felt the weight of the situation sink in. Who would’ve thought your best friend’s brother was your soulmate?

“You know,” Haneul started and broke you out of your thoughts. “I’m happy it’s you. Someone I know and trust as much as I trust myself.”

The words were oddly warm and spread a branch of hope through you. While you were too caught up with your work and then your own feelings, you didn’t stop to think what Haneul thought of everything. Her two worlds were colliding and it could either be good or bad.

“Is it weird?”

“Not at all… It’s the best thing I could ask for. That my best friend and brother get along… Just…” Haneul gnawed on the side of her bottom lip and turned to you, “Just don’t hurt him, Jeong. San is a tough cookie, but he has a fragile heart and I really don’t want to ever choose between you. You are both very dear to me.”

“You won’t have to. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t hurt him even if I tried.”

Haneul chuckled despite the tears making their escape down her cheeks. “Is it really like how they say? Are you already… affected by him?”

You breathed out a laugh at that. The countless nights spent talking and making fun of other couples who had already found their happily ever after were sure biting you in the ass, because it was, in fact, exactly how they said it would be. The unexplainable pull drawing you toward him, the yearning to be by his side and feeling him everywhere. Every skip of his heart, harsh intake of air and twitch of his fingers were all transferred to you

“Yeah, it’s exactly how they say it is.”

Haneul eventually left to do her last rounds and finish writing reports until the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the end of your second night shift that week. San didn’t wake up until a few hours later and despite being hooked to a monitor regulating his state and showing nothing out of the ordinary, you didn’t leave his side for even a second. The dread of another emergency report coming through squeezed your abdomen until you were on the verge of puking. Just the thought of parting from him almost sent you hurling your insides in the guest bathroom. You were lucky to have wonderful colleagues who understood the circumstances and reassured you multiple times not to worry about finishing your reports or doing rounds. Nurse Hwang and Kim even passed by with snacks and water before returning to work.

The clock struck early morning when your chin slid off your knuckles and you were unpleasantly awoken from your slumber. The fear of falling to your death had you jumping out of your seat and taking in your surroundings. The sun gently shone through the windows occupying the entire left side of the room and filled the space with auburn streaks kissing your face. The warm rays seeped through the cherry blossom trees planted along the outskirts of the hospital. You found the view to be exceptionally beautiful during the early mornings when the pink petals detached from the branches, swirling in the air like snowflakes and covering the boring cement pavement..

A laser like heat bored into the side of your head and you scanned the room to find the source, only to get lost in the eyes of your soulmate. A wide smile stretched across his face and you realized the dimple gene ran deep in the Choi family as an identical pair to Haneul’s popped on San’s cheeks. You couldn’t shake away the image of a content and well fed cat at the sight of him. 

San immediately shifted the blanket to the side and had one bare foot planted on the floor, ready to leap out of bed and wrap you in his arms. The man just about managed to stand on both legs when you rushed from your seat and gently pushed him back down.

“No, no, please, sit!”

San fell back on the mattress without much of a fight. The moment your hand made contact with his shoulder, an explosion of tingles erupted along your palm, spreading like wildfire through your arm and out to the rest of your limbs, reaching the tips of your toes and fingers. The air caught in your throat and, like magnets forced together, your eyes found his again. Neither of you had to vocalize the question balancing on the tip of your tongues, asking if the other felt that crackling fire. San sensed the twinge of worry squeezing at your heart and hummed in content, he reached out and grabbed one of your hands in his to ease the burden atop your shoulders. He smiled so hard his eyes turned into crescent moons and hadn’t you known better, you’d think he’d start purring like a cat receiving ear scratches. 

“I’m fine. I don’t need rest because you are here.”

You ignored the heat pooling beneath your cheeks at his rather flamboyant response and steered the conversation elsewhere. “What were you thinking running into a burning building?”

The words came out effortlessly, as if you had known him since your youth.

“I didn’t do it on purpose…” He began and jutted out his bottom lip. “My feet just moved on their own, call it an instinct. Besides, I couldn’t just leave everyone inside. I’d put shame on the entire fire department!”

“Curse you for being reckless and kind hearted, San.”

“Yet thanks to my recklessness, I landed in the hospital and found you.”

The cheeky reply nearly made you pop a blood vessel. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm after facing death less than eight hours ago. The monitor attached to him shouldn’t have been stable. Based on your past experience with burn victims, San should’ve been startled and shaken up, and in some uncomfortable pain. Instead, he remained unnervingly composed, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you question your own knowledge. His calmness felt unnatural, given the circumstances. The heart rate monitor, which should’ve shown elevated readings due to stress, stayed oddly steady and only spiked up when you spoke, moved or looked at him for too long.

“San… we are soulmates. We would’ve met eventually,” you hissed, trying to mask the look of realization on your face. The soulmate bond explained his calm demeanor. As he said, he was fine now that you were there, while you just wanted to cover him in bubble wrap and not let him out of your sight.

“Yes, but not soon enough.”

You abandoned the conversation for now as it wouldn’t lead anywhere. San was deadset on his decision being correct even though it was a foolish one and you still had a job to do. Ignoring the way he followed your every movement, a polite smile and creased eyes never leaving your form, you adjusted his pillows and checked the IV attached to his forearm. 

“Do you need anything else?”

“Hmmm, just you.”

Had you met under different circumstances, perhaps in a grocery store where you'd bump carts together or on a packed bus where he’d give up his seat for you and stand by your side to shield you from the other commuters, his charms would’ve worked. But you didn’t. Instead San decided to search the burning building for others with no gear, just his strong will and hope clinging onto his back, and all his attempts at flirting were futile as you couldn’t get the image of his unconscious body out of your head.

“Too bad,” you settle on saying. “You can’t have me before twelve PM.”

The pout intensified and he even crossed his arms in retaliation. Seeing a man in his late twenties throw a silent tantrum wasn’t something you thought you’d ever find endearing, but there you were, suppressing a laugh and yearning to smooth out the wrinkles on his forehead. 

“Do you have to go?” He whispered and looked up at you through his lashes.

“Yes, unless you want me to be fired?”

“Fine! But the second that clock hits twelve, you and I are both getting out of here.”

“You can’t just leave, San, they have to run tests and–”

“I’ve never felt better and I think every doctor in the building can agree with me. What I will be if I don’t get to spend time with you is sick, and sad, and heartbroken and–”

“I get it, I get it!”

San lived up to his promise of spending time with you. In fact, he wasted no time running down the hallway the moment the minute hand switched to twelve, asking everyone dressed in white cloaks where Doctor Jeong was. The question left his mouth for the tenth time that minute just as you rounded the corner, ready to check out. San gave you all of three seconds to bid your colleagues goodbye before whisking you away. His plan of getting to know you consisted of lying tangled up on his sofa with a meaningless movie playing in the background, while his fingers caressed your back and his eyes shifted back to you every other second, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. 

You weren’t faring any better. Your head was neatly tucked beneath his chin, and your hand was splayed over his right pectoral, the tips of your fingers gently rubbing soothing motions beneath the curve of his collarbone. Had you known your soulmate would be a kitten with separation anxiety, you’d have stalled on meeting him for a little while longer. Although, deep down, you knew that was a lie. San was everything you needed him to be and more: attentive, gentle, sweet, kind, caring — the list was truly endless. 

The days spent cocooned together — San on sick leave to recover from the accident and you having the next two days off from work — made up for the thirty-something years you hadn’t been in each other’s lives. In just forty-eight hours, you created a bond that most lifelong best friends would envy. He shared embarrassing stories from his and Haneul’s childhood days — sweet memories of how his mother dressed him in Haneul’s hand-me-downs, despite her closet mainly consisting of flower dresses and cute skirts. In return, you told him about that one time you accidentally locked your parents out on the balcony and then hurled your breakfast back out from the anxiety and fear of never seeing them again. If only little you could have understood the wonders of spare keys and that your grandmother was already on her way to solve the issue. 

The first night was spent staying up late, talking about heartfelt stories and niche interests to the point where you both passed out and didn’t wake up until late afternoon the next day. Who knew your hunk of a fireman liked collecting sweet plushies and was adamant on learning how to crochet?

That wasn’t everything though. A week into your freshly established relationship and San hadn’t missed to stop by your workplace once to give you lunch, coffee, midnight snacks or a quick peck on the cheek. It was easy in the beginning when San didn’t return to work for an entire week. The soulmate bond proved that he wasn’t in need of resting as much as his company thought and he eventually had to return earlier than expected. It was weird to be glued to each other for hours on end to then not be able to see each other because of your hectic schedules that never seemed to align. When you’d return home from a long night shift, he was dressed and ready to leave. 

You voiced your worries to Haneul during a lunch break, saying how you were afraid of moving too fast, but now that you barely got to spend time together, it felt like you were moving at a snail’s pace. She mildly reassured you that it craved more than some social distance for your soulmate bond to break and that it would take some time for you to find your footing in the relationship.

However, working multiple shifts a week while running on little to no sleep left you too exhausted to plan an outing whenever an opportunity for the two of you to spend time together appeared. Date-night looked different in the Choi-and-Jeong books. Instead of glamming up and booking a reservation at a fancy restaurant, you decided to stay in and watch a movie that would sooner or later be forgotten as you’d be too enamoured with each other. Haneul walked in on one too many make-out sessions, and thus, you came to the decision to host movie nights strictly at San’s apartment.

Like many times before, you lay atop San, his legs parted, giving you the option to cage his left one between yours. One of his arms was bent and propped behind his head to act as a cushion, while the other was curled around you, his hand pressing against the small of your back in a comforting embrace. Your cheek was mushed against his chest and your hand limply rested on his bicep. A movie played on the big screen and a plethora of snacks were strewn out on the coffee table but left untouched. You joked about how, ever since San entered your life, your sugar cravings had dramatically decreased because he was bringing too much sweetness into it.

“Honey?” San broke the comfortable silence and spoke over the characters on the TV. You hummed in reply and he continued. “I want to ask you something.”

As you shifted to get a better look at him, he pulled you in a tight embrace and you immediately stopped moving. “Don't look at me, just… listen? Please?”

“Okay, Sannie, what is it?”

“How do you feel about… moving in… with me? Or me with you!” You could hear the blush attacking his cheeks and embarrassment clinging onto his voice as it grew higher in the end and the words came out in a rush.

Joy tugged at your lips and you couldn’t stop the light hearted chuckle from slipping out in the room. You broke out of his gentle hold and grabbed his hand in yours, and planted a chaste kiss on it.

“I think I’d love that.”

Without warning, he squeezed your cheeks between his palms and captured your lips in a tender kiss, leaving your insides warm and mushy. Despite having muscles the size of a watermelon and broad shoulders that could carry the entirety of Noah’s ark, San was a real softie. He had the habit of holding you as if you were the most valuable possession on the earth, a feather which could crumble at contact or a cube of sugar that would melt beneath the rain. The shared kisses were brief but left a tingle on your lips that you couldn't get enough of and nearly whined in retaliation as San withdrew to catch his breath. 

“I adore you, like really, really much,” he confessed and kissed you again, and again, and again. The peppered kisses were planted all over your face — nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, eyes, forehead. The endearing act of love pulled a string of giggles straight out of your tummy, cursing you with an ache that your grandmother would call remedy for the soul.

One moment he was on you and the next, he turned you over to lay against the couch while he  scrambled to his bedroom on the other side of the apartment. You pushed yourself up on your forearms with only your upper body lifted as you curiously watched San runoff as if his rear caught on fire.

“Sannie?” 

“Just a second, honey!” 

Rough shuffling reached the living room, but it was the loud crash of objects clattering on the ground that you almost headed to see the commotion yourself. San’s reassuring voice telling you everything was okay didn’t help you relax, but you trusted his judgement and remained seated. The eager wait was short lived as San returned with something tightly clutched in his right hand and stopped by the end of the couch, back uncomfortably straight and face pinched into a serious expression. Hadn’t you known him for a little shorter than a month, you’d assume he was about to get down on one knee and ask you to live the rest of your life by his side. 

San cleared his throat and extended his arm low enough for you to see his well manicured fingernails. You shuffled over closer to the end of the sofa and sat up on your knees. His fingers unfolded and exposed the trinket laying in the center of his palm. An apartment key. The spare key to his apartment to be precise.

“I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I’ve never been sure of anything more than this and I really want to take this next step with you.”

“Are you asking me to marry you or move in with you?”

Red dusted his cheeks and he had to look away. Your own lips curved up as his eyes creased into crescent moons, a telltale of his dimpled smile making an appearance. San covered his mouth as if it would make his smile disappear. Testing the waters, he asked, “Would you say yes?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” 

San was sure he could pass out right then and there. His cheeks hurt from smiling too much, but it was the only pain he would ever welcome with open arms. You climbed onto the couch and jumped into San's arms and he effortlessly caught you, his hands finding their designated place on your hips and thighs while your arms slid around his neck like a koala. Your fronts were pressed against each other, but you continued pulling him toward you, as if the chance of becoming one entity was higher than inventing flying cars. San dipped you down princess-style and stole a long kiss, one that you were more than eager to reciprocate. Your fingers tangled in his black hair, nails soothingly scratching his scalp, and your heart swelled with so much love and happiness it felt like it could explode and fill the living room with colorful confetti.

It was a shame the human needed air every few minutes because all you wanted to do in that moment was feel him everywhere. Breaking apart, you rested your forehead against his, hot breaths fanning across each other’s lower faces, chests rising with fervor as your bodies desperately tried to reclaim the lost oxygen."

“I’d say yes a hundred times over,” you breathed out, “but let’s save that for after we meet the in-laws.”

“My parents have already scheduled a day for when we can go to Namhae,” he eagerly replied to which you hastily leaned back, nearly sending you both tumbling over.

“San! I swear you’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably in love with you.”

Lips swollen, eyes welling with joy and hearts beating erratically, the world paused as you looked at each other. The diploma neatly placed on your desk and the knowledge you had collected over the years seemed insignificant when the love you harbored for San could regrow burned forests, mend broken bridges and heal even the most shattered of hearts.

Living with San was nothing out of the ordinary, except that you saw each other more now that you lived under the same roof. Considering your shared apartment with Haneul was bigger than San’s, it only made sense for the Choi siblings to switch places. That way you kept your room and San took Haneul’s. You quickly realized you could’ve just moved into San’s apartment instead as neither ever went to sleep alone. More often than not, San would crawl into your bed, claiming it was cozier than his, but you knew even the ground would be a great sleeping place as long as you were in his arms. That was precisely what you wanted — to be in San’s arms. Instead you were working another night shift, the most hectic one since the fire incident a couple of weeks ago. 

A young man, no older than twenty, had been in a motorcycle crash, leaving him with severe pain and swelling in his right leg, which was pushed into an unnatural position. The skin was entirely torn off, exposing blood and muscle tissue. You had a suspicion about how severe the situation was, but it still called for an X-ray examination. As expected, the results confirmed multiple fractures of the femur and tibia, requiring surgery the next day at the latest. Changmin, as his driver’s license indicated, was in immense pain and even struggled with breathing difficulties into the night. This left you and your co-workers with no choice but to monitor him closely throughout the remainder of your shift. To say it was tiring would be an understatement. Your feet were so sore it felt like walking on a rug of medical needles and your back ached, begging you to lie in bed and not get up until the birds returned from Southeast Asia.

The only thing pushing you through the long day was the fact that you knew San was waiting on you at home. It didn’t matter if he was awake or not. Your tense muscles relaxed by the thought of burying your face in his chest and forget the world until your batteries were restored again. It became a routine for the both of you. When one had a more physically draining day at work, the other was ready to pamper them and make them feel completely taken care of. 

After a few failed attempts to insert the key into the door, you finally managed to unlock it. A stream of blue light illuminated the otherwise dark apartment and was accompanied by muffled voices coming from the living room. You haphazardly threw your shoes off, not bothering to neatly place them next to one of San’s hundred pairs of sneakers, and instinctively followed the animated sounds that belonged in a cartoon. 

The scene you were met with nearly brought you to tears. San was seated in the middle of the sofa, a fuzzy blanket thrown over his head and shoulders, with two mugs of hot cocoa steaming on the table in front of him. The bag slung over your shoulder slipped off and fell to the floor with a gentle thud. Your jacket — a gift from San’s closet — was at least two sizes too big, making you look like a bear ready to hibernate. The colorful scarf you had been wearing since your teenage years reached up to your nose. San whipped his head in your direction and his stoic expression softened into one of understanding at the sight of fresh tears coating your waterline. His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile that spoke more of compassion than words ever could. 

He quickly lifted one side of the blanket and beckoned you over with a gentle command. “C’mere honey.”

That was the last straw for your tears to start rolling. You wasted no time shedding your outer layers of clothing and curling into San’s side. A sob that you had been holding in throughout the entire car ride home vibrated against his chest. San ran his hand up and down your back while whispered praises tickled your ear. He planted a kiss on your crown and pulled you over him as he fell back against the couch. You adjusted yourself more comfortably, both legs falling on either side of his hips so as not to fall, and he swiftly maneuvered the blanket to shield you from the chilly atmosphere. The minutes ticked by and you had no perception of how long you stayed in that position, but your sobs eventually subdued to soft sniffling. 

“How did you know?”  You whispered, a tremble hanging onto your vocal chords, and sat up. 

San’s hands travelled to rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing circular motions into your flesh. “I just… felt you.”

“Felt me?”

He hummed, “I still do. Happiness, sadness, fear, anger — everything, right here.” His hand hovered over your heart and you understood. You really did. 

There was no scientific explanation for the emotional connection that kept you in tune with each other’s feelings. The unexpected pressure weighing down on your lungs at even the slightest discomfort or worry he experienced, like when he stumbled upon a video of a duckling being separated from its mother. It was uncanny how your heart soared hours before he came home with good news about a promotion, or the unexplainable sense of pride you had been carrying all day — only to discover it was coming from San, who had helped a kitten down from a tree. You’d never forget the day the bitter taste of dandelion greens spread across your tongue, only to find San lying in bed, caving under the weight of his blue emotions. The best part of the connection, though, would be the buckets of love pouring into your bucket as he hugged, kissed and worshipped you. However, there was one emotion you hadn’t received any signs of.

Your fingers found purchase on the hem of his shirt that rode up his stomach and revealed a sliver of the toned skin beneath. “I don’t feel… your anger.”

San flashed you a blinding smile and spurts of daffodils curved around your heart. “That’s because nothing makes me angry, love.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

A beat passed and you sighed, “I’m always angry.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re angry, just… frustrated.”

“It’s practically the same thing,” you argued and continued fiddling with his shirt. He captured your hands in his and halted your anxious picking.

“It isn’t, not by definition. We feel frustrated when we are unable to progress, while anger is the response to something we perceive as wrong or harmful… You’re not angry, my love, you’re frustrated and probably overworked too.”

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you mulled over his words. It made sense, and you didn’t need to voice the comfort it brought you; he felt it. The unruly waves quieted to a steady push-and-pull, letting you breathe as the knot of emotions slowly untangled to nothing.

“You know, I’m supposed to be the older one out of the two of us.”

A hearty laugh filled the previously gloomy room, immediately illuminating the four cold walls, and San caught your waist again as he shifted, the echoes of his laughter filling the space.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. It'd be my honor to make you feel like a teenage girl again.”

That he did. It was almost embarrassing how his sweet gestures had you leaping face first into your pillows and rapidly firing your feet against the comforter. One would believe you were closer to being fifteen than thirty, and while you had a mild crisis, you were still grateful San brought that youthfulness out of you again. 

“Was it a rough day?”

The sentimental moment burst like a fragile soap bubble at the slightest of touches. You took a breath of air and San slid his hand further up your wrists, placing his thumbs in the center of your palms while the remainder of his fingers wrapped around the back of your hand. It was grounding and kept you from re-visiting the gut wrenching thoughts that plagued your mind while tending to the young patient.

“A young guy was rushed to the ER… He got into a motorcycle accident and flew maybe a good ten meters from the crash place, and totally fucked up his leg. It was by sheer luck he didn’t suffer head injuries, let alone injuries to the rest of his body.” 

You still saw the image of his bloodied body and torn clothes, a sight that would leave you with nightmares for days.

“He was in really critical condition, San. We couldn’t leave him alone for even one second. I’m talking about twenty four-hour care… He’s going into surgery tomorrow. He’ll survive, but it’s just... He reminded me of you. How you’re literally in danger every time you go to work and– and how easily I could lose– lose– lose–”

The words caught in your throat as your voice grew higher in pitch. San gave your hands another squeeze and pulled you back down onto him. You wasted no time burying your face in his neck and his arms automatically wrapped around you — one finding purchase at the back of your head while the other securely encircled your back.

“I don’t want to lose you, San.”

“You won’t lose me, love.”

“You don’t know that!”

“What I know is that I always do my best to come back to you in one piece. To my home, no?” The hand that had been placed against your head wrapped around the back of your neck and gently massaged it.

Like a flower opening up to catch the first few sun rays of the day, you put your heart out and allowed San a glimpse of what was inside. 

“It just scared me,” you said between shuddering breaths. “Anything could happen, San, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you–”

“Honey.” His voice wasn’t stern, but it held a certain finality to it. As gentle as a newborn kitten, he carefully eased you back, pulling you away from where your face had been pressed against his neck. With a soft motion, he tilted your head slightly, getting a better look at your face.“Thinking of the what ifs isn’t good for anyone.”

You wanted to reply with an ‘I know’, but you knew better than to lie to him. 

He wiped a stray tear off your cheek and you nuzzled against his palm. “Look, I love that you think you need me, but it’s not true. We managed more than fine on our own and just because we’ve found each other doesn’t mean we can’t function alone anymore… I love that you feel comfortable enough to lean on me, darling, but at the end of the day, you’re strong because of who you are and not because I’m here.

“And if, but just if, anything were to happen to me, I need you to know that you aren’t alone. You’d still have Haneul there. My parents. Your parents. Nurse Kim and Nurse Hwang too. That’s eight more people than me.”

Your hand enveloped his cradling your cheek. “I don’t want to think of a life without you in it.”

“Good because you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever and ever!”

A wet giggle sounded through the living room and San’s rough chuckle blended perfectly with your sweet hiccups. Overwhelmed by the affection filling your humble abode, successfully warming every corner of the apartment, you intertwined your fingers behind San’s neck and determinedly pulled him into a heart-searing kiss. Your mouths molded together in a perfect fit, much like the famous art piece by Auguste Rodin. The sculpture representing a pair of lovers destined to remain together forever, until parted by death.

San breathed life into you with simple gestures that could restore chivalry. His eyes finding yours in a crowded room, silently checking up on you as you were both tugged in opposite directions by your mutual friends. Walking the empty streets after a successful date night, the gentle brush of his fingers skimming over yours before slipping between the gaps and pulling your hand into the pocket of his coat with the excuse of keeping you warm. Slothing his front to your back in the solitude of your home as you’d be too busy for a long cuddle session on the couch. Not to mention the kisses spread throughout the day—morning, noon, and night. He’d see you off with a peck and welcome you with the same sentiment, wishing you a good night or day before taking off.

The memories you collected during your still-new relationship pushed you forward, giving you hope and belief that you were going to get through this. San’s promise of never leaving — intentionally or unintentionally — comforted you and the dreadful thoughts hadn't returned, and hopefully, they wouldn’t ever. But if they ever did reoccur, you knew San would be there to chase them away.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2025. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[ddejavvu]

I do not know Tyler Owens at all but love your writing so i’m gobbling it all up ☆

what if this time, the tornado’s path is going to come too close to their house? how would Tyler break it to scaredy cat, would he stay with her somewhere else or do his job?

No Storm in Sight - Tyler Owens x Reader

please send me tyler owens requests!

Tyler manages to get all of your essentials packed up while you're still asleep, but he can't prevent the blaring tornado sirens from rousing you.

"Tyler?" You jolt awake, fear clinging tight to your chest and leaking into your voice as the awful sounds permeate your once-peaceful night, "Tyler, what- what's going on?"

"Storm's comin', baby," He croons, but his voice is tighter than it would have been if there wasn't any danger. "We're drivin' out for the night. I'm not chasin' this one. Not with you. It- it shouldn't hit here, but it's gettin' close, and I just wanna be safe."

"Oh my god," You're choking on the words while you're trying to get them out, breath short and choppy as you scramble out of bed, "I have to get- we- all of our stuff, Ty, we-"

"I got it. I packed up what we need," He gestures to a hefty backpack of valuables, cash and photos and mementos, everything that can't be bought back after it's whipped into a storm. It comforts you to know that Tyler's prepared, but just because you can replace the rest of your home doesn't mean you want to lose it.

"Come on, honey, you're okay. Let's get into the truck, m'kay?" He soothes, taking your hand in his despite having far too many things to juggle already, "Remember, even if it hits the truck we'll be okay. We're safe in the truck."

"Tyler, I'm scared," You breathe, still seized by the bleariness of sleep but feeling the stabbing pain of panic in your chest, "Please- Tyler please stay with me, I-"

"I'm stayin', darlin'." He promises, but you're not done blubbering.

"No, I mean- don't run back to grab anything, don't- don't get out of the truck for any reason, please Ty, I- I need you to make it out with me or I don't want to make it out at all."

Sirens blare louder but they can't manage to drown out the beating of your heart as you let Tyler drag you into the driveway. Gravel and dirt kicks up around your feet, really, you're walking through a cloud of the stuff, and you fight to maintain clear vision as foliage and dust attempt to steal it from you.

"Push through it, darlin'." Tyler calls, shouting over the roaring winds, "Just get to the truck, okay? We're safe in the truck."

You manage to grip the driver's side doorhandle, and with all of your strength, you rip it open where the wind wants to slam it closed. He holds it open for you, and you crawl over the console so that he can take his seat. Just this once Tyler doesn't make you buckle up before he peels out of the driveway, his bag of your essentials rolling off of the seat and landing on the floor of the truck. You've already got clothes and food packed away, and you're glad that Tyler had evidently made a mental checklist of what else to grab in an emergency. You manage to get your seatbelt buckled as Tyler turns out of your drive, and the dark clouds headed towards your home seem to spell disaster.

"Tyler, it's coming right for us," You choke on a sob that takes you by surprise, one that aches in your chest as you try working through it, "I- What if it knocks down our home, or- or what if it pulls us in, or-"

"Easy, angel baby." Tyler sets a hand on your thigh, using the other one to drive the truck steadily away from the incoming storm, "Like I said, it's not projected to hit us. It's just gonna get real close. Maybe knock down a couple'uh trees, break a window, that sort of thing. But we can fix it. And nothing's gettin' us in here, that's for sure."

You are thankful for the armored safety of his truck, thinking of the drills between the wheels that will anchor you safely into the ground. The storm doesn't look huge, but any storm is a dangerous one, and you're glad you and Tyler will, at least, survive.

The storm seems to curve, now heading left just as much as it is towards your house. You find yourself staring, fixated at it in the mirror until Tyler barks, "Hey. Don't watch it, baby. Look ahead, m'kay? See them clear skies? That's where we're headed."

Your hand shakes as you reach over to settle your own palm on Tyler's thigh, feeling the sturdy, rough material of his jeans beneath your fingers. You mourn the absence of your own sturdy clothes, thin pajama pants feeling bedraggled as Tyler speeds you away from the incoming storm.

You lose sight of the twister as Tyler rockets down the highway, and now the brunt of your worry is on your home, not your safety. Eventually, when there's not a cloud for miles, Tyler pulls over, breathing out one huge sigh as he slumps in his place.

"Ty," You gush, leaning over to wrap him in an awkward hug, "Ty, I- What are we gonna do? What if it gets our house?"

"It won't. It curved, it's- it's swerving. And even if- We can rebuild it," He murmurs, gripping you just as tight, "Don't think about that, baby. We- I... My team'll help. Boone's- Boone's good with electrical. Dani knows an architect. And I can handle the heavy liftin', darlin'. But we won't need that, m'kay? It's goin' the other way now. Our house is gonna be fine. And we're gonna be fine, look. No storm in sight, and we're safe in the truck."

"No storm in sight," You parrot, glad for the presence of Tyler's strong frame in the armored truck beside you. You're glad for the knowledge that the storm is turning away from your home, and you trust Tyler explicitly on the subject, happy for the security he offers as he holds your hand tightly, "We're safe in the truck."

[yurious-george]

i got a lovely gift of $200 this morning and was going to save $100 for me (gotta look out for #1!) and give $50 to palestine esims and $50 to my mutual in poverty. but it turns out my chorus dues are $175 so i basically only have $25. mentally.

I could have paid either way but it became "cover bills" money instead of "fun money" in less than 12hr. :(

mannnnn why is $200 nothing these days :(

[words-4u]

like seeks like - t.s

pairing: trinity santos x f!reader (last name: thorne)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: i feel like this goes without saying but this medically inaccurate just a work of fiction idk anything about anything except from what i see on tv okay thanks :)

being a legacy isn’t easy. the constant comparisons, the fear of people using you because of your name, the weight on your shoulders to live up to a certain expectation. it was all too much but there’s no escaping it. you are a thorne, and for better or worse, that name meant something at PTMC.

you unwrapped a protein bar as you stood in front of the patients board reading through the list of patients that still needed to be seen.

“anything good?” you asked dana, the charge nurse of the pitt, mother figure to all.

“don’t make me tell robby you’re cherry picking,” she said as she made her way to perlah and princess.

“not cherry picking if i haven’t picked yet!” you called out after her.

“great! so there’s still time for me to steal a good one,” santos saddled up right next to you. she leaned on the counter, the scent of her immediately infiltrating your space. 

you shook your head at her, “no chance, santos.”

throwing your half eaten protein bar into the trash you practically ran to the most interesting case. santos hot on your heels. 

you opened the curtain with haste. “hi there, i’m dr. thorne…” you said at the same time santos introduced herself.

"i'm dr. santos. how can we—?” 

you stood side by side and stared at the man on the hospital bed. his entire body, his face down to his legs and feet, was covered in splinters. not the tiny ones you're used to, these were finger sized splinters penetrating his body.

“sir, how did this happen?” you managed to ask through your shock. 

the patient begin recounting how he ending up in the ER. he was walking to work, his usual shortcut through the woods, and a tree exploded. it's so cold outside that the sap in the tree froze and it shattered.  “i mean all i remember was hearing this loud sound, almost like a gunshot and then pain. all i felt was pain.”

“and how do you feel now?” santos asked, eyes still wide.

“the morphine is helping a little,” the patient admitted. 

“okay, hang tight, sir. we’ll be right back,” you said as pulled the curtain to give him privacy while you and santos found an attending.

it was then that your sister elise and garcia, PTMC’s surgical goddesses and best friends, walked past. 

“hey, odds. need one of you to glove up. we have a trauma incoming. it’s a doozy.” garcia said.

“which one of you will it be?” elise asked.

“me!” santos immediately volunteered.

“oh, come on.” you complain, while you were okay with the current case you just picked, for your sister and garcia to both be in the er, you know this trauma was gonna be a good one to be apart of. “elise…” you turned to your sister.

“hey, she said it faster.” elise held her hands up while santos smirked victoriously.

“is this like punishment or something? cause i chose emergency medicine over surgery.” you asked annoyed. your sister clearly picking favourites.

“no, that’s a personal choice.”

“yeah, tell that to mom.” you rolled your eyes. your mom also worked at PTMC but not just any regular job, she was chief of surgery.

"incoming!” dana yelled from across the ER.

santos looked back you and touched your arm condescendingly. “have fun with tree guy,” she walked away with a pep in her step but the skin where she held your arm ran hot.

“fuck my life,” you said walking away to find and consult with dr. robby.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“okay, sir. last one,” you said as you pluck out the final spinner from his shin. javadi and whitaker also helped to speed up the process. you stood up and took off your protective glasses and gloves.

“i’m gonna call someone to wrap your open wounds but the good news is that the punctures aren’t that deep,” you said with a soft smile. you walked away heading to the computer to finish your charting. 

“extra hands!” garcia yelled poking her head out of one of the rooms.

dana looked over at you and tilted her head giving you the go ahead.

“coming!” you ran over grabbing a new pair of gloves and enter the trauma room.

you took a deep breath sneering the room. the floor was bloody, the little girl’s leg appeared crushed. 

“where do you need me?” you asked as princess tied your protective gown. 

“where santos is.” elise said as she and garcia try to relive pressure from the little girls other leg.

the monitor started to beep. “we’re starting to lose her!” you yelled.

“her chest. it feels stiff.” santos said, and both your hands are on it, feel her chest. 

“we need to do a thoracatmy,” you looked up at garcia and elise. "she needs it now.”

“so do it,” garcia said with full confidence. you didn’t even see santos grabbing the instruments. 

“what are you doing?” you asked, looking at her prepping the girl’s chest. 

“what does it look like, nepo baby?” she said rubbing the girls lower chest with rubbing alcohol. she takes a scalpel and makes a large incision between her ribs.

“move over," she said through gritted teeth.

“there’s barely any room,” you responded frustrated and moved even closer to make a point.

“then stop breathing on my neck.”

you shook your head at her immaturity while she completed the procedure that should’ve been yours. princess handed her a retractor to get a better look at her heart. the surrounding area was filled with fluid. santos made quick of getting it drained until you tripped on one of the machines cords and bumped into santos. she accidentally nicked the little girl’s heart and then there was blood. so much blood.

“garcia, thorne!” santos yelled out.

“what did you do?!” you freaked out from the sideline. 

“nothing! i tried to drain…” santos began to explain before garcia stepped in. “alright, let’s see.”

“everything was fine until you bumped into me.” santos whisper-yelled.

“that wasn’t on purpose. i was trying to see what you were doing. you know? the procedure that should’ve been mine!”

“yeah, you would think that, wouldn’t you?” she retorted.

your sister snapped her head at the two of you bickering in the corner. “okay! i’ve had it with you two! shut the fuck up!”

santos followed orders but not before letting out a sharp exhale. you stayed quiet watching garcia and your sister try to stabilize the girl on the table. they ordered more blood, they packed gauze, but it was too much and too late. they had to call it.

“time of death: 14:23.” garcia said taking off her bloody gloves. she walked off but not before looking at you and santos with disappointment in her eyes. 

“happy?” your sister rhetorically asked following garcia out of the room.

“i think i’m gonna be sick.” you said ripping off your gloves and white protective gown. you were too focused on running into the change room’s toilet that you didn’t hear santos running after you.

after spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, you wash your mouth and splash water on your face. the guilt washed over you like a wave. had you and santos just worked together that girl would still be alive. but it’s not your fault you couldn’t stand her. 

trinity santos was so competitive and always knew the answers anytime any of the attendings had a question and sarcastic. god, she had sarcasm by the boat load but despite all of that there was this unexplainable pull towards her. maybe it's because like seeks like.

you opened the door, surprised to see santos sitting on the bench. she looked up as you walked out. her face matching what you felt.

“we should talk,” she said softly rubbing her thighs, trying to get rid of the moisture on her clammy hands.

“there’s nothing to talk about.” you replied.

“are you sure? because we just… that little girl’s not going home because of us. w-we could’ve done something productive instead we…”

“we fought like we always do,” you took a seat next to her on the bench. she shifted her body to face you a little.

“why do you hate me so much? like what did i do to you?”

“trinity, i don’t hate you. you hate me.” you explained to her like you were explaining simple maths to a 4-year-old. “you’ve always acted this way with me and i never questioned it because�� two can play that game.”

santos chuckles dryly. “yeah, well i'm tired of playing games.”

you remained quiet and let silence fill the air and this time you turned to her and spoke slowly. “maybe… there's a universe out there where we're friends.”

with santos' elbows planted in her thighs, she faced the floor but shook her head. “friends? no, i would never want to be just friends with you.”

“you… god, why do i even bother," you muttered to yourself getting up and heading for the door.

“can you let me finish, woman?”

you stopped in your tracks and turned around, arms crossed but your face softened when you see santos make her way towards you with an expression you can’t read.

“i don’t want to be just friends with you, y/n," she repeated herself slowly this time hoping you pick up on the subtext without her having to admit that she liked you. and you do this time. 

her eyes flicked down to you lips and back to your eyes. “would you want that?” her voice soft like if she spoke she’d wake herself up from this dream.

not feeling the need to respond with words, you grabbed her black scrubs and pulled her into you. your lips crashed into hers. it takes a moment for santos to register what’s happening before she takes a hold of your hips and opens her mouth to you. her lips were warm and soft. you slipped your tongue inside, making her let out a moan.

she pulls back after a moment. “i knew you liked me, thorne” you laughed into her shoulder. 

“yeah whatever, santos, you were the one just aching to kiss me,” you leaned in, teasing her.

“what if i was?” she smirked. her hands now snaking under your scrub top. you were a moment away from completely folding before you stepped back. the shock in her face apparent.

“i’d say take me on proper date before you get any other funny idea.” you walked backwards straightening your top. 

she shook her head at you as you walked out of the change room. “god you’re such a lady boner killer.” she called out after you.

santos stayed back for a moment, fingers on her lips. she couldn't believe what just happened. maybe like does seek like after all.

requests are open <3

[court-jobi]

You're It For Me

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 4K

Rating: T+

Warnings: Pro-hero Bakugou/Pro-hero Reader, canon-typical aftermath, love confessions, light hurt/comfort, protective Bakugou is protective, bedsharing-not spicy (yet)

Summary:

Bakugou fears very little in this life- because he knows with you by his side, even fighting the worst of the worst villains is easier when you're on the other end of the line in his headset. But never one to let things go unsaid, he makes sure to cup the side of your face and tell you the greatest promise short of 'I love you' that he can before storming out for the mission: "You're it for me. Got that?" You have to swear it back every time, so he believes it. It's both a promise and a lifeline- especially when he hears the worst possible communique: that the team's lost visual of you.

A/N: my ao3 loves have encouraged this pairing to be something of a series, so maybe that's what this will become!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Beeping right into his left eardrum signals an incoming update through Bakugou’s earpiece, pinpointing the alert straight to the source over the raucous cheers of his thankful public. He’d taken on the ‘A’ grouping of villains, while you pursued ‘B’ as they made an escape from the scene. The ‘A’ punks were the ‘muscle’, but Dynamight was far stronger than any of them had anticipated. 

‘Pissy extras, you weren’t worth my time’, he’d touted when his good ole buddy Cellophane wrapped em up tight in a nice, neat bow. 

Bakugou might have celebrated this win a bit more with the crowd surrounding him, having caught the villain and was prepared to call it a day alongside Sero, ticking off another win tally in traditional, mega-blasty action… if not for the update coming through on his comms:

"We lost sight of Joyride- crash site at the industrial pylons at 6-5-2 and 6-5-7- Tightrope is-- confirmed; eliminated. Repeat, requesting visual of Joyride-"

Bakugou's soul drops to his gut. 

There was a crash and you were missing. Sero hears the same update and looks to Bakugou gravely- knowing full well who you are to him. Not just a teammate, but more, in every way.

Turning quickly from the gathering of people, Bakugou takes a one-armed leap from the side of the building and blasts off a slight cushion to his fall, then jogs towards the incoming transport with Jeanist's interns calling out for him to report back. He doesn't listen to any word of thanks as he marches to the transport. He's fueled by pure anxiety behind masked eyes, rage bubbling hot in his breath. He listens to his radio, and prays.

"--still no sight of- wait, wait! Joyride spotted! We have visual! Status? She alive? Affirmative, she's coming up over the edge- (laughs) I can't believe it, she chucked that eight-wheeler straight into it!"

Bakugou swallows, throat tight despite the relief.

"Ok Dynamight, off to rende with Joy–?-"

"YOU HEARD ‘EM, MOVE!"

Poor intern shutting right up and driving away, Bakugou shucks off his pauldrons and vambraces against his discipline that he should really keep em on until fully off duty, but with his protective instincts still in overdrive, he knows he's producing more than enough sweat should he be caught by surprise at this point in the aftermath. He's not going to need the extra firepower where he's going.

Screeching to a slowed approach, Bakugou can't wait the extra second to allow the van to come to a complete stop before he's chucking the door open and jumping past the cordoned off emergency vehicles assisting passersby. He shouts only briefly for 'making way', and people listen to the man on a mission. Calls of thanks fall to his deaf ears- by choice, this time.

From around the corner, he turns assessing the damage surrounding the crash site below. He spots Uravity already helping, and is grateful for her expertise while still set on recovering you.

There ahead -his angel in a leather jacket trudging up the off ramp with weary steps- is the sight he thanks every god in the heavens for. 

Bakugou stays his swearing out of sheer gratitude to not see copious amounts of blood draining your face; that sheen on you is just sweat as you’ve chucked your helmet off to breathe better. One look at you and it’s like no other day; you just look understandably tired and in want of a shower more than life. Your expression isn’t pained– just your usual distaste for incline treks by show of your flat, annoyed brows and mouth breathing. That look coming from a top 20 Pro Hero known for her stylish grace is funny- if only under different circumstances.

There's a crack in his voice as he shouts your callsign, but he's not ashamed of it; not with the punch of fear ripping the sound from him. He sets off in a run– straight to you.

You look up at the alarmed call. Dynamight is hurtling towards you, and you're just as relieved to see a sight for sore eyes. Seems the shock of what you just did catches up as you find renewed haste in leaving the smokey scene behind you. You pick yourself up into a jog with a delirious smile forcing its way onto your face.

In a span of a few seconds, Bakugou shoves up his protective face mask, catching your bounding self up into his arms, hugging you tight for two full, shaking breaths before pulling you into a fire-loaded, protective kiss.

Smokelines are smudged across his cheeks and burning tears lay built up at his lash line as he heaves grateful breaths in and out through his nose against your cheek. This kiss is tense, but needed. Without an ounce of regret, he keeps you painfully close. You held no less affection from him, your hands immediately grabbing for purchase on his nape, sweat-licked and all. You gasp for a breath with a laugh before he smashes his mouth across yours with tongue, messy and relieved and angry that something has scared him so bad.

Releasing your lips from his, he bumps his forehead to yours for a solemn few seconds to rein himself in.

He husks, "You good-?"

"Yeah."

"Not hurt?"

"Nah~"

"You swear."

You nod with your eyes still closed, breathing a quick answer before being given another couple hard kisses on your cheek. You're hugged tight again, swayed as he takes a couple traipsing steps with you in his arms. A heart-wrenching, gutteral sigh rasps from him, leaving you reeling as he holds you in sight of who knows how many. The fact that you're not alone in this moment is only a fleeting thought as your residual adrenaline causes you to shake- probably the reason why Bakugou is set on keeping a tight hold on you.

"I'm ok, Katsuki. M'okay-" you answer shakily, barely a whisper. You're convincing yourself under the guise of assuring him. It works, in a way.

"Thank fuck," he answers to your neck.

He’d done his part- you heard so on the coms once you found your dislodged helmet after you made a timed dismount off the bike before it careened you both off the exit ramp. It was then that you reactivated the jostled ‘live’ signal from your helmet and typed back the status code that you were alive. The mic had broken, or else you would have reported so yourself. 

But the fact remains, you haven’t told anyone reporting on the scene what you’ve seen- what you’ve done. You did stop the villain’s crew from taking what they’d stolen, but you’d effectively ended anyone else’s chances of recovering the files with the demolition site you’d essentially forced them into. The valued records didn’t fall in the wrong hands, certainly, and it’s an ultimate grace that no other civilian lives were lost, but you do think about how grim the scene looks at the bottom of the ramp. 

There’s no earthly way anyone could have survived that firefest. For some reason, the gravity of that fight grips you now. You’d almost joined them had you not thought hast enough.

"He's.. he's dead. Tightrope and them, the uh- runner. I hit 'em."

"Good. F’he wasn’t, I was gonna kill him myself."

You chuckle, despite the subject matter. Tired breaths still heave from you, coupled with the gentle relief of Bakugou’s supporting arms around you– bare arms you now notice are cannonless, as they set you fully down on your own.

"Oi, BACK IT UP!"

You realize there's a few reporting drones coming in at your back when Katsuki’s dominant hand lifts off of you to bat one away with a harmless smack on a lens; luckily Bakugou is already ushering you back to the van, keeping you ahead of him with a careful palm to your shoulder. He lets you lead towards shelter and a thorough once-over from the medic team for the shock. More grateful civilians cheer praises on both of you, especially your name since it was evidently shared by many as the saving agent of the day. 

Unlike your chilly counterpart, you did offer a wave and a reassuring, proud grin for those onlookers, but Bakugou knows your true feelings better as you grit through your teeth,

“Oh, yes please, photos. What I’d kill for a bath right now…”

After a ride back to the agency, you start to breathe normally again. On the bus where you’re  strapped up with a bp cuff monitoring your status, your care is complete with your hand in Bakugou's as he stands above you. He hovers even more after you hit the showers, dress down comfortably, and receive one of the highest compliments from your agency lead on your quick actions and limited infrastructure casualties. Finally, true ease in your tummy relaxes as you get a pass on submitting your report while in your current state until morning, and as you are given a lift back to the apartment complex-- of course, with Bakugou in tow.

It's the early morning hours when you are able to go lay down, the smallest change in the sky after the night’s darkest hour giving way to a persistent sun. It does little to threaten your desire to sleep though, with your protective boyfriend playing bodyguard keeping a hand on you at all times then offering to stay 'until you fall asleep'. 

You feel the safest you have in months that morning… 

When he follows your soft ask for him to see you safely upstairs, carries out his nighttime routine alongside yours, he does nothing more forward than wrap his entire body as close to you as possible. He kisses you goodnight with care and softness and just an edge of heat.

"You fucking scared me." Bakugou whispers into the quiet space you've created.

"I thought nothing scares you."

He huffs, but it's a sad, wet sound. "Tch, like hell it doesn't."

You're both quiet for a while after that, just relishing in your joint safety, touching each other to soothe the chills from within, soaking in his light presses to your forehead until he lays a kiss longer than the others–

"I love you so damn much," Bakugou rasps all in one go, "I love you."

 It's the first time he's said it, outright.

You'd thought you'd scream and kick your feet if he ever got around to saying what you already believed to be true. All you want instead is to absolutely melt into his skin and sob.

"HEY-" 

Bakugou called out to you at the start of all this in full, armored glory- nearly every bit of skin covered up in his winter suit while the dead of summer sun bears down. For this crazy mission, he’s been preparing all afternoon, ready to bring his all to the fight ahead. 

One word and you whip around before he yanks you into speaking range. He grounds you with a hand to your shoulder keeping you still- expecting him to say ‘be careful’, maybe even an extra ‘watch for those crackhead speed demons out there’. 

But with his commanding, brash voice on, you weren't sure what he'd say to you- not when he’s looking at you like that. 

"You-- y'better not pull anything stupid now," he stares you down with complete earnest, choosing words carefully because he figured you might be listened to on the team’s headsets.

Yet never one to let things go unsaid, he cupped the side of your neck for the next bit-

"You're it for me. Got that?"

Your azure-blazed helmet hid most of your face, so you smiled with your eyes so he could see that you agreed. You heard him loud and clear, and got his meaning entirely. 

You placed your hand in an 'i love you' sign on his chest before another call over the radio gave directions and pulled you both apart to look for the flare.

"-Got it,” you resolved while only giving him a second before you crafted a biped transitbike in record time with your quirk-  "Go kick some fuckin’ ass!" 

Heart zinging with motivation, you sped away- leaving Bakugou to cackle at your rare cursing and blowing his own way skyward and into his element.

Tipping your head up, you can barely find words with him looking at you like this. It’s the look from this morning all over again: a tight, straight-set scowl dead set on keeping himself from crying, hand sifted itself into your hair like you're going to be ripped from him in an instant, and soft eyes that are begging- a look you never thought you'd see from him.

You don't have it in you to tease him, or even be your trademark soft and demure to contrast his hard and offensive shell. No, you feel like doting on him when he's like this, because you know you’re the only one who sees him this way. This vulnerable, laid beside you with a weighted blanket on him to soothe his anxiety, too.  

So you promise your whole existence to him instead: a genuine word without fear of an audience.

"I love you, too. You’re it for me."

You sink in and out of sleep while he holds you like this. Though gratefully, he's out like a light after the last few kisses he laid on your head when you said it back-- like his spirit could finally rest knowing you believed the same.

You keep waking up in the night unsettled by some restless instincts left over from the night before. 

After twisting again and turning your neck to bleakly look at the light coming in, you heard his drowsy inhale bring out a grumbly moan,

"Go t'sleep."

'It's bright,' you say through your exhaustion, but it's evident that you're far too awake by your tone.

At this, you heave in surprise as Bakugou completely flips you onto the other side of him, tilting you with a palm until you turn the other way (towards the bathroom) and lie completely in his shadow. You check his face to see if he's upset at your waking him, but his eyes remain shut by sleep and are solely focused on blindly making sure you're completely locked in and comfortable in his arms, still.

It's thoughtful and strikes you sweetly, tucked back in his embrace again. You feel completely secure with his warmth flooding you at your back.

"Thanks."

Again, he simply whispers,

"mmm sleep f'me, 'ngel... I've gotcha."

A phone buzzes just minutes later, his. It's Kirishima- and like moth and flame they are for each other, Bakugou answers, tipping only onto his back so he’s barely moving from you. You still sleep through lightly and you hear him talking, but not each and every word fully.

Bakugou swiped up to answer the call, but didn’t deign a chipper welcome necessary.

"......hey uhhh Bakugou?"

"hmwhat."

"Are you still sleeping?"

"Yes."

"It's after 2pm, man! Thought you were dead to the world~"

"I am. Whaddya need."

"Well, just wanted to check on you man. I saw the fight last night, and I've tried calling Little Miss, too but she's not answerin’."

"Had the same night. She's 'sleep too."

"Eh, I shoulda figured. Looked like it took it out of you."

"Tch, wasn’t that hard."

Kirishima played into his mischievous lilt on his end of the line, 

"mmmm sure bout that? That uh, kiss, didn't look like ‘nothing’."

...Kirishima wasn't there. How would he have known you kissed?...

Bakugou wakes a little more. "Huh."

Kirishima burrs the speaker a little on the other line. Must be from him laughing through his nose knowing Bakugou's severe dislike for that sort of attention.

"I mean, I get it. I'd probably be the same after watching my girl go down like that, but-- hate to break it to ya, but it's everywhere, Kats."

"-Whaddya mean."

Notifications have flooded his phone when he cracks open an eye to really look at it, but he opens the most recent from Kirishima, texted by the redhead’s insistence for Bakugou to take a look.

There are stills of said clip of him running up to you and kissing you– one particular shot looks gorgeously cinematic because someone with a photo-optic quirk had clearly followed him, probably from that drone he almost broke. Screenshots Kirishima has collected (proof of ‘true manliness’, he claims) all bear headlines of how this was the most unexpected hero pairing of the season: how "Joynamight" is stealing the hearts of swooning civilians everywhere- and likely the shutdown of the entire hero rumor mill surrounding the explosive hero standing at No. 5. The dating scene has allegedly erupted into chaos over the news.

Bakugou stared at the photo of him holding you. One camera turned more at his shoulders by the way he'd stepped, so in this photo, he could see you more clearly- holding on as just about any loved one would hug their better half, but so beautifully content and safe in your face- if a little emotional yourself.

A blank hum is all Bakugou offered. Soft. Seemingly disinterested if it wasn't for the proud smirk.

Kirishima snickered on the other end of the line. "You sucker."

"Yeah, yeah."

"...dytell er yet?"

"Not there... But.. couldn't not, yknow."

"aaand?"

"... Dont scream about it, mtired."

Kiri audibly gasped, then at least honored Bakugou's request for distance from the phone, whooping and hollering off speakerphone, uplifted at the news. His carrying on made even a sleep-laden Bakugou happy, even if he lay there rolling his eyes for his friend to be done.

You finally stirred beside him, turning over with a stretch and seeking him out. He quickly received you, kissing your forehead again, then tipping back to the phone. "I'll call you back later, Eij."

"--Huh? Dude I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, WHAT HA-"

"Mmm who's that," you moaned.

Bakugou rubbed your back to rouse you the rest of the way. "Your big red dog."

You chortled at Kirishima's new moniker. "Whas’hewant."

Bakugou debated letting you stay in your bubble, but figured ripping the bandaid might be best. 

"Just called to give us a head's up."

You looked up to him, "About what?"

Bakugou only smirked, tilting his phone to you. To focus on the light, you woke up fully, eyes widening to just how bad they did -indeed- immortalize your private moment on the scene.Those grimey, windswept headshots you’d feared at the medtend were the least of your photogenic worries now.

But-- like his own reaction-- you couldn't keep from smiling.

"Ohhhh~" you sighed, then deeper, "Ohhhhh we are in deep shit."

Bakugou snuggled in– smug as all getout, "Yeah, we are."

"Wait, lemme see-- oh my God, Kats... Oh Katsuki, this-.."

"Yeah yeah, give it back-"

"Nooo I need that one! Send it to me!"

"It's likely blown yours up too, dummy! Get your own!"

Memory of your reentry home failed you, so you had to ask him where your phone ended up because you didn't have a clue. He’d put it on the charger for you, of course. Then, sitting side by side, you both were reviewing the more urgent notes from your respective social media managers with deep, secretive chuckles. 

These photos were a romantic’s dream, but a PR jumpscare. Had to be addressed in some way or it would never end, truly.

"What’d yours say?"

You fixed your wonky part with a little fluff to your hair, settling your initial overwhelm of nerves: " ‘Go on something lowkey- Present Mic’s show or a podcast off the mainstream, say ‘friendship is magic’, maybe tease it if I want to, and move on.’ I dunno- that seems like a lot of public speaking and scheduling out the wazoo. You?"

"She's just yapping. Didn't read it all." Bakugou barely cared about his social media presence since his manager did most of the publishing, save for Bakugou sharing some highlights of his select, predictable group of hero team ups. Besides that, he just focused on paying them well enough to cover his bullshit if he ever let his temper flare. Besides, now he was waiting on what you'd say, "So what're you gonna do?"

You debated, smirking like a devil the whole time as you realized what could be the fastest way to get your take out in the open, 

"... I wanna share the photographer's post. Not this J’akku Press spread."

This earned a smirk for you, "Yeah?"

"...yeah?" you returned a shy look- wondering if you were crazy.

"I will, if you will."

Bakugou’s soft, sleepy loyalty is one you fear will disappear after you both get started with your day. When Dynamight reports back in, you can only hope that he’d still feel the same way today as he did yesterday- though you imagine managing the tabloid fodder a post like this can make will be less than pleasant for him. He’s so private most of the time, and when he’s not digitally absent, he’s loud. This hesitation must have shown on your face– because he takes your hand for a second and kisses it to stop your spiral.

"I meant what I said. You’re it- you’re mine. Whether we tell the world or not. Up to you."

You bite your lip again, and doubled down. You shift to snuggle with your back cradled on his chest, building the shared post:

"Aftermath: Joyride emerges from crash scene unscathed, reunited with Dynamight in a rare tender moment for today's top tier heroes." Joyride_fm: see edit: Lucky, lucky girl. Sorry for scaring you, m'love❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 #rideordie

Bakugou snickers, kissing your shoulder closest to him. "Do it, I'll repost that one."

He, however, did not let you read as he added his response thread, making you wonder what kind of a novel he was going to be sharing because of how long he was taking... 

Instead, you just curled into his side and peppered him in a few distracting kisses on his chest. He’d come bolting to you last night, a core memory you’d be fantasizing about for a long time. Just watching the way his chest is rising and falling here in bed so calmly when you know just hours ago it was heaving like you’d been lost at sea, you are so gone on him. When he nudged his shoulder for you to check his draft, you damn near cried:

"Aftermath: Joyride emerges from crash scene unscathed, reunited with Dynamight in a rare tender moment for today's top tier heroes." THE_Dynamight_SoV: Hero work is not for the weak. We train, we fight, and we do everything we can to make our world a safer one, to whatever end. This woman is one of many selfless, ball-busting, indomitable heroes that I'm not only proud to do this work with, but one I can't see myself living without. You're looking at the face of a man who's holding his priorities right there in 4k. So yeah. If you see one of us like this after a battle, know it's because heroes get scared too– for good fucking reason. Better not make this a habit, dummy. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 #rideandDONTdie

"Oh my God~~" your tears and misty sniffles had you caving into his shoulder, "my tweet was so STUPID!!"

Katsuki bragged with proud cackles as you cried it out, sending the post out for the Internet to bawl over before you could dare edit your post, and turned his phone right back to silent.

You got snotty and overly emotional at how sweet he was with his statement, but were comforted by his hands smoothing over you until you calmed.

"Love you,” you settled into the peace he held you in.

"Love you, dummy."

When you got up for the afternoon run back to the office to finish your reports with fresh eyes, you entered the building as normal. There’s no hint in how either of you carry yourselves that say you all just spend the last twelve hours like koalas draped over each other. The only sign of such affections was your use of an Allmight tervis you're nursing your coffee with –clearly his– which your good ole partner in electric crime, Chargebolt, clocked from the end of the hallway:

"JOYNAMIGHT 2024!!!!"

"SHUDDUP, POWER OUTTAGE!!!"

[sunlightgalaxy]

crash & burn

emily prentiss x surgical resident!fem!reader

what happens when your one night stand ends up on your operating table?

warnings: angst, surgery, blood, smut, mention of drugs/drug use, alcohol & drinking, mentions of (fake) major character death

a/n: repost from my previous blog about 3 years ago but also slightly edited. based off of my grey’s anatomy knowledge so there are definitely inaccuracies also one of my fav things I ever wrote

(gif is mine)

**

“incoming trauma! y/l/n, you’re on it with me,” your attending yelled. nodding at her as you made your way to the door, you grabbed a gown and threw it on. a rush of excitement coursed through you, with this being your first real trauma you were working. working the ER was always hit or miss, with everything that had swept through the emergency room doors during your previous rotations either ended up cleared from needing surgery or were “all hands on deck” situations, which usually ended up with every resident fighting for at least three surgeries. and you never seemed to be picked for one.

you had been itching to get into an OR for weeks, as being on the ICU rotation stopped that from happening. technically, you were doing simple procedures on patients when they needed to be done, but you weren’t able to actually operate. and that’s what you loved to do most.

silently wishing that this trauma would need surgery, you jogged out of the e.r. and met your attending at the ambulance bay. “what do we have?” you asked, watching as the paramedic opened the ambulance doors.

“agent emily prentiss, fbi, 40 years old; penetrating stab wound to the lower abdomen, weapon still lodged in place, already coded once in the ambulance,” the paramedic rattled off.

“is that a chair leg?” you asked, mouth open. something about this patient was off, you couldn’t figure it out.

“table leg, actually,” the paramedic said, shaking his head.

“that’s good, it’s the only thing keeping her alive right now,” the attending said, scanning the agent’s body. “what are her stats?”

you didn’t hear a word either of them said, eyes focused on the unconscious woman in front of you. she looked so familiar. and you also recognized her name. “emily,” you muttered, eyes widening when everything came back to you.

~

“can i buy you a drink?” a dark-haired woman asked, sitting down next to you with a smile. “sorry, i know that’s a bit forward,” she said softly. “i’m emily. and you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“oh, thank you,” you blushed. “you’re pretty hot yourself. not to be too forward or anything,” you smirked. “i’m y/n.”

“it’s nice to meet you.”

her laugh was like a drug, you heard it once and were instantly drawn closer. if you weren’t careful, you’d get addicted. “thank you,” she beamed, brushing her hand over yours. “so, about that drink?”

“i’d love one,” you murmured. “thank you.” emily squeezed your hand, calling over the bartender and ordering two glasses of red wine. “how’d you know red was my favorite?” you asked curiously, taking a sip.

“lucky guess,” emily shrugged, changing the subject. “so, what do you do for work?”

“oh, i’m a surgical resident at the hospital downtown,” you smiled. “what about you?”

“i, uh, i work for the fbi,” she murmured, smiling sheepishly. “nothing too crazy, though.”

“that’s actually pretty cool,” you laughed. “what about the fbi brought you to boston?”

“i’m just here on business,” she spoke softly. “trying to find something for my team.”

“have you been here before?”

“once, a long time ago,” she sighed, looking down for barely a second. “but, that’s in the past. and i’m all about the present.”

you giggled, sipping your wine. the night carried on in a similar fashion, more and more drinks purchased as the conversation traveled. from favorite books to dream vacations to childhood fears, you two talked about nearly everything.

and as the night grew longer, emily ended up in your apartment. shirts ditched in the entryway, emily leaving sloppy kisses along your jawline as she carried you to the bedroom.

she placed you onto the bed, hands trailing down your sides. a soft moan escaped your lips, eliciting a laugh from hers. “you like that, don’t you?” she teased, hands moving up your thighs. one, two fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. her tongue swiping your entrance before her lips encased your clit, your vision nearly blacking out. pulling her hair, emily’s moans sent vibrations straight to your core and pleasure through your veins.

it wasn’t long before your hips bucked into her face, her tongue tasting every bit of you as you came.

and then you were on your knees for her, worshipping her body like it was the last time you would ever see it. which, it technically was. but that was the last thing on your mind as your tongue swiped her clit. she groaned softly, squeezing your breasts as if to tell you to keep going. and you did, until her cum was dripping down your face.

emily leaned down, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into her arms. “thank you for this,” she whispered, smiling softly. “i really needed it.”

“of course,” you murmured. “and you can stay the night, since it’s so late.”

“thank you,” she sighed, rolling over. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, emily.”

emily said she would stay. and not even an hour later, she was running out of your house like she had just seen a ghost. she had said something about a work emergency, then proceeded to give you a quick kiss as a thank you for the night.

and as your apartment door closed, you assumed that was it. it was a one night stand, you would never see her again. and you were fine with that.

~

“something wrong, y/l/n?”

“oh, no, everything’s fine,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“alright then, let’s get her to the OR.”

***

“on my count, we’re going to pull out the wood,” dr. canning said, looking at you. “ready?”

“ready,” you responded, leaning over and grabbing the top of the leg.

“one, two, three.”

you and canning pulled it out as quickly as you could, leading you to hand it to a scrub nurse. “bag this and get it to the police upstairs,” you ordered, shifting your attention to emily.

“scalpel,” canning spoke, taking the blade handed to her and extending the cut that the wood had previously made in order to get better access.

there was so much blood pooling in her abdomen, it honestly scared you a bit. not because the extent of her injuries were so severe - after all, you had seen much worse. it was because you knew the person on the operating table, and even if it had been just one night, you hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day. but, it’s not like you knew her, so it didn’t matter. right now, she was your patient. and as far as you were concerned, that’s all she would continue to be.

“where is all this blood coming from?” canning yelled angrily. it seemed that no matter how much suction there was, more blood would keep pouring out. “hang another unit, she’s losing blood too quickly!”

“wait, i think i found the source,” you muttered, lightly pressing a finger to her pancreas, eyes widening as the blood stopped momentarily. “there’s a small cut on her pancreas!” you yelled.

“nice catch, y/l/n,” canning said, handing you sutures. “go ahead and finish up.”

you gasped softly, slightly taken aback by the order. nevertheless, you smiled under your mask and took the sutures. delicately, you were able to carefully fix her remaining injuries.

together, you and canning worked to make sure there was nothing you two were missing. closing her up quickly and carefully, you both headed into the scrub room to clean up.

when canning asked you to go tell her team about the surgery, you agreed rather eagerly. there was no reason for you to do that, it shouldn’t even matter whether you met them or not - there was no way you’d ever see them again.

“we’re under strict rules not to let anyone see her except for agents hotchner and jareau,” your attending explained to you, scrubbing her hands under the water. “understand?”

“yes ma’am,” you replied. “what should i tell them?”

“ask for agent jareau, and tell her that agent prentiss is stable and ready for transport to bethesda when they’re ready.”

nodding quickly, you exited the operating room and made your way to the waiting area. upon arriving, you stood out of view for a moment, taking in the people in the room.

a brightly dressed woman - who’s outfit did not match the tone of the room - leaning against a taller man. a skinny guy sat next to another blonde woman, who looked too uncomfortable - even for a hospital. an older man sat away from everyone else, fiddling with a rosary and murmuring what could only be a prayer under his breath. and then there were two, one taller man and one shorter woman, whispering to each other in the corner of the room.

this was her team, her family.

it felt odd that you were about to tell them how you saved her life, despite them not even knowing you two had hooked up barely 24 hours ago.

“excuse me, i’m looking for agent jareau?” you asked shyly, stepping into the room.

the woman standing stepped away from her teaming, giving them all a small smile. “why don’t we speak in private?” agent jareau suggested, nodding when you agreed.

you both stepped into the hallway, away from her team’s prying eyes. “agent jareau-”

“is she alive?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

“yes,” you murmured, the blonde woman sighing with relief. “agent prentiss is stable for now, and she’s ready for transport when your team is.”

“thank you,” agent jareau whispered, tears in her eyes. “thank you for saving her.”

“it’s no problem,” you smiled, watching as the woman walked off.

making your way back to emily’s room, you passed the waiting room, expecting to see smiles and joyous remarks. instead, you found the team in tears. the strangest part was what agent jareau told them.

“she never made it off the table.”

those words followed you all the way back to emily’s room, your mind spinning with what that could mean. it’s not even like it was your business, you two slept together once and nobody even knew. it didn’t matter, so you pushed it to the back of your mind.

you didn’t dare stay in her room for longer than you had to. as soon as you finished checking emily’s post-op vitals and making sure everything was in order, you left, shutting the door behind you.

instead of walking away - like you knew you should - you just stood in front of her room. not watching her, but just staring.

“you know, that agent has quite an interesting life” canning said softly, coming up next to you. “agent hotchner had asked me how long until she was cleared to leave the country.”

“did he say why?” you asked, looking between canning and emily.

“something about a paid vacation, but i don’t believe him,” she laughed. “apparently they’re profilers, but i didn’t need to be trained in behavioral analysis to know he was lying.”

“agent jareau told her team that she died,” you said quietly, staring at emily’s unconscious figure.

“damn,” canning sighed, looking ahead as well. “well, i know i wouldn’t want to be caught up in all of the trauma that’s bound to leave. i feel bad for her.”

“yeah,” you sighed. “me too.”

phones beeping after a few minutes, you and canning looked down, frowning. “there’s another trauma, y/l/n,” she said, looking at you. “let’s go.”

sighing, you took one last look at emily. she was still as beautiful as that night in your apartment, maybe even more.

turning around a moment later, you followed after canning

maybe it was a good thing emily had fled in a hurry after all.

[f1girliefics]

Only Us

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Warnings: Car crash, injury, broken bones description of possible open fracture

Summary: A simple race, a not so simple crash.

You were excited to see Daniel back on the track, his new contract with the Alpha Tauri team was a good sign.

You were very happy for him.

He wasn't home when the call came.

The person calling from the hospital explained one of his greatest fears over the phone, you were in an accident.

It was late, he should have been home, but as soon as he got the call, he got his keys and left.

“Mr Ricciardo?”

“Yes, who is this?” he asked the woman on the other end of the line.

“My name is Janet Frank calling from St Vincent's Hospital: Emergency Room, you are listed as the emergency contact for Miss Y/L/N.”

“What happened?”

“She was involved in a car accident. She is currently in surgery, but the police here would like to talk to you.” Daniel felt his stomach drop.

“I-I will be right there!”

He arrived about thirty minutes later, out of breath as he ran to the front desk.

“I’m here for Miss Y/L/N.”

“To your right down the hall, take a right, you will see the police there.” 

“Thank you.” he said before he started to walk fast towards the direction he was told.

As he took a right he saw two policemen standing there.

“I’m Miss Y/L/N’s boyfriend.” he told the two officers.

“Mr Ricciardo?” one asked and Daniel nodded. “My name is Sergeant Dwight, this is my partner, Sergeant Dennis. Your girlfriend was in a car accident this early afternoon. A drunk driver rear-ended her, pushed her onto incoming traffic and she was T-boned. She was conscious when we arrived on the scene.”

Daniel thanked the officers and soon rushed to your doctor who explained that you were okay, they needed to do a surgery on your knee because it got broken and trapped. Other than that, you were alright considering the circumstances.

Soon, you were out of surgery and in a room, waking up.

You immediately noticed Daniel by your side, smiling at you as he held your hand, he said something but you couldn’t hear him.

“Don’t move too much.” he said as you groaned in pain when you tried to sit up. “You had a knee surgery.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember. I looked at it in the car and saw the blood and I think my bone was also sticking out.”

“Thank you for the visual.” he made a face and you smiled a little. 

“I’m alright though.” he nodded acknowledging that you were indeed, still alive. Your voice did calm him.

“I nearly fell on poor Yuki when I got the call, he had to jump out of the way.” you laughed a little.

“I’m so high on painkillers right now.” you smiled and Daniel laughed, seeing your expression.

“I’m so glad you are alive.”

“Yeah, but you will have to nurse me, doctor said I can’t walk for months.”

“I am okay with that. At least you won’t leave my sight.”

“I’m okay with that.” you smiled as he laughed a little. He touched your face, his expression turned serious as he looked at you, you could see the weight from his shoulders falling off.

You knew how he was, all smiles as if he had no worries and yet, on the inside he worried all the time. Over his family, over himself and over you.

It was natural to him.

You could only imagine how much it hurt him to see you in a hospital bed with a fucked up knee.

“You couldn’t have done anything different.” you said, trying to reassure him. “Even if you drove me, we would both be now on a bed, and you had important meetings. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I still feel like as if I could have done something.” he said as he looked into your eyes.

“You couldn’t have. It wasn’t our fault. What’s important is that we are both here, alive and happy.”

“You are right.” he let out a long sigh.

You pulled his arm and he moved closer to give you a kiss.

Nothing mattered but the two of you.

You will deal with your knee, you will deal with getting a new car, you will deal with getting the other driver the time they deserve.

For now, it was only you two.

DO NOT STEAL, REUPLOAD OR TRANSLATE!

[aviiarie]

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ UNLIKELY COMPANION — feat. kyojuro event masterlist.

synopsis. you're certain that the creature that keeps visiting you is something completely inhuman, but you don't mind. he seems quite fond of you, and always tries his best to look after you, so who are you to complain? warnings. none? notes. requested by anon. demon!kyojuro. gn!reader. fluff? 1.7k words. i hope this is okay, i wasn't sure about this one but i couldn't keep editing it T-T

The first thing you were taught was fear.

Fear came in the form of caution, learnt through a thousand tales of reckless children and their inevitable demises. Those who ventured out of their home when the sun fell, who dared to stray from the path when walking in the forest, were whispered about like ghost stories. Your elders made sure the horrors were never forgotten, always lurking in the back of your mind like cobwebs.

So you learnt, and learnt well. You heeded their advice, and kept your house locked up before you slept, lighting the lanterns outside, and burning wisteria incense to ward off any stray evils.

It wasn't an infallible defense, but it was better than nothing, they said. Anything less would be like offering yourself up like a piece of meat on a platter.

The cause of the fear, the ones who were waiting to snatch up unsuspecting humans and tear them to shreds, those were less certain in your mind. All that was really known was the trail that they left behind; massacres of entire families, young men and women vanishing without a trace, bloodstains splattered across the forest floor.

'Demons' was what they were called.

They were what kept people barricaded inside their houses, huddled under blankets and fearing the moonlight poking through the cracks in their windows. The bloodthirsty creatures emerged at sundown, feasting on human flesh, and retreating before dawn. They were stronger, faster, and much more deadly than any other danger a human could face.

The village was right to fear them, and so were you.

Once, the idea of walking through the forest in the dead of night would have given you a heart attack. Now, it had become just another part of your day.

It was simply too much of a good opportunity to pass on. Collecting herbs and plants to sell was what kept food on your table, and some of the most sought after greenery bloomed only at night. The risk was high, but in times of desperation as strong as yours, common sense was disregarded. You weren't a kid anymore, and you needed some sort of income to keep yourself afloat.

Most would—and have, for that matter—called you mad for your little 'hobby'. Hunting plants in demon-infested woods at night was equal to plucking the whiskers off a tiger's face as it's sleeping.

“Do you have a death wish?” The doctor asked with a shake of his head. He accepted the herbs graciously, offering a generous sum for your effort, but still scolded you for your actions. “What sense do you have, going out at night alone?”

You smiled and waved him off every time, assuring him that you were careful, and you weren't in any danger. You never bothered to correct him that you weren't alone, but you doubted the truth would be any comfort to the man.

-----

As always, you felt him before you saw him.

The first sign was the wind—which was as howling and brutal a late-night breeze could be—suddenly going still. You paused in where you were crouched over a crop of flowers, hand still poised and ready to pluck them from the soil.

The next sign was a sudden warmth behind you, like a forest fire was creeping up at your back. It was a cold night—or it was up until he appeared, leaving a pleasant heat in his wake.

Finally, if you hadn't put the pieces together, his booming voice confirmed any lingering doubts.

“[Name]! I see you are still collecting plants!”

A smile broke over your face, even before you saw him. You grabbed a handful of the flowers and tossed them into your bag, straightening up and turning to face him.

“I am,” You agreed pleasantly. “I see you're back.”

He was grinning back at you, eyes wide and bright. You found yourself studying them, watching his irises shift and swirl in shades of yellow and orange, like there was a bonfire burning behind his eyes.

At a first glance, he wasn't anything out of the ordinary. There were no obvious abnormalities, no inhuman features that would prove he's anything less than a perfectly normal man. It was only when you looked closer that you noticed he never seemed to blink, his teeth were unusually sharp, and his skin was always burning when you touched it.

You would have to be a fool, spending as much time around him as you had and not suspecting him to be something otherworldly, but you didn't let it trouble you. Even if he was the creature that you were warned about, he didn't seem like he had any intention of harming you.

Even after what you were taught, it was difficult to see him as someone to fear, when the very first time you had met him was through him saving your life.

On one of your first visits to the forest, you had stumbled into one of the 'demons' that you were warned about. You had enough wits to drop your bag and bolt towards the town, but you could hear heavy footsteps behind you, getting closer and closer.

In the end, the strain on your lungs slowed you down, until you were collapsed heavily against a tree, with nowhere left to run. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the moment that the demon would tear you to shreds.

It never came.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and glanced around, still wheezing from the exertion. There was no sound or sign of a struggle, it was as if the creature had gotten spooked and run away.

But what could possibly scare away a demon?

That was when you saw him, stepping out of the trees with your bag held loosely in one of his hands. He looked over at you with owlish eyes, unblinking as he held out the item you had lost.

“I believe this is yours.”

Numbly, you took the offered bag, still leaning against the tree trunk. The man stepped back, smiling widely.

“Call me Kyojuro!” He proclaimed, his voice echoing through the quiet clearing.

“I-It's nice to meet you, Kyojuro.” You had stammered out, still reeling from the close call. “My name is [Name].”

“You should not be here!” He continued, as if you hadn't spoken at all. “There are more dangers than losing your belongings, you know!”

You only nodded, still in shock.

After that, he walked you back to your house, making you promise to not to explore the forest at night anymore. You were careful with your response, instead vowing that you wouldn't get into danger like that again. When he waved you goodbye, there was a strange curl of warmth in your chest that you couldn't quite place.

Of course, it wasn't your last visit to the forest, much to Kyojuro's chagrin. He managed to find you every time, chiding you for coming back even after his warning. Every time, he would accompany you as you collected plants, and every time he would walk you home.

There was a hint of fear, for a while, but it wore off easily. While his unwavering gaze and loud voice unnerved you at first, he was a warm, steady presence that you found yourself craving, even during the daytime. He wasn't violent, or unpredictable, as you had been led to believe creatures of his kind were.

If anything, he seemed oddly fond of you.

It showed in strange ways, but the way he always made sure you arrived home safe, and the times he would leave bento boxes on your doorstep to discover in the mornings, and the genuine care in his voice when he inquired about your well-being told you more than words ever could.

“I have returned, yes!” Kyojuro nodded. “I apologise for my absence. It has been a busy few days.”

“I don't mind,” You reassured him. The wind brushed against your face, making you shiver. “I've been busy too, I haven't been foraging much.”

“That is—” He cut himself off abruptly, the smile sliding off his face. In two quick strides, he crossed the clearing and was right in front of you. “You are cold.”

“It's just the wind.” You pulled your haori tighter around yourself.

“You are cold.” Kyojuro's voice was more distressed than you have ever heard it. He reached out his hand, pressing it against your cheek. His skin, as burning hot as it always was, was a welcomed relief on your cold face. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the touch.

“It's not that bad, really—”

“No. You are too cold. Have you collected enough for tonight?”

“I guess, but—”

“Good.”

Without another word, he leaned down and scooped you up in his arms as if you were weightless. With a gasp, you clutched onto his sleeve, as he adjusted his position so he was carrying you with one hand under your knees and the other supporting your back.

“Kyojuro!” You hissed, your face growing warm in embarrassment. “I can walk, I don't need to be carried!”

Kyojuro clicked his tongue in disapproval, calmly walking back through the path of the forest towards your house. “I disagree. With how long you've spent out in the cold night air, you might be sick. I wouldn't want you collapsing before you get home.”

You scowled into his chest. As flustered as the sudden gesture made you, you could see the care behind it. It was his way of taking care of you, or at least you assumed it was.

And it was difficult to be annoyed, when he was so warm, and you were still so cold from being out all night. Leaning against him was like curling up by a fire; it was enough to lull you into a gentle slumber.

It was only when you arrived home that you stirred, as he laid you down on your bed to sleep, pulling the sheet up to your chin.

“Goodnight, [Name].” Kyojuro said, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Goodnight...” You mumbled.

If this was what you were supposed to fear, then you didn't mind ignoring the warnings.

🏷️ taglist: @mollzaj, @mitsvriii, @an-angstyteen

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[toska-writes]

Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.

So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)

“Got your back”

Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back

Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)

Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread

Word count: 1688

Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why

Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor

[xtreklx]

Nightmares ~ Ninja Turtles x reader

Scenario: bayverse Turtles x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: SFW, angst + fluff

A/N: hey guys :3 thank u AGAIN for all of the love on my latest writing! it's so kind and also motivating for me, so keep an eye out for more! I just started a new job but I have a bunch of WIPs so it's rlly hard not to just sit and daydream during my shifts 🤭 but anyslay here's a little self-indulgent scenario for how the turtles would react to their partner having a nightmare. I thought of this after having a nightmare teehee. enjoy!!

__________

~ Leonardo ~

"Y/N? Wake up for me, princess."

You sat up with a start, your chest puffing up and down as heavy breaths left your body. At first, you could barely see what was around you, reality blending together with the horrifying dream you were in mere moments ago. But you came back to your senses as you looked around your bedroom and made eye contact with your boyfriend, who was sitting up next to you on your bed. He was watching you with worry on his face, ready to spring into action. It made your heart swell to see.

"Are you alright?" Leonardo asked you, his blue eyes boring into yours, and you nodded as your face scrunched up with incoming tears, letting your feelings of both fear and relief consume you. He wrapped his strong arms around you gently, pulling you into his lap and holding you against his plastron. You took deep, even breaths, trying to calm yourself down and keep the tears in, and he began to slowly rock you from side to side.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He softly inquired as his hand began to brush smooth strokes down the back of your head. You sighed into the movement, your eyes closing softly. "I don't think I really need to. It wasn't real; my anxiety is just getting the better of me, that's all."

You let out another sigh, the breath quivering slightly, before opening your eyes and looking up at your maskless boyfriend. His gaze was soft, his ocean irises etched with concern but understanding. He didn't say anything, but nodded at you, keeping you in his embrace. You reached your hand up to his cheek, stroking it softly.

"I'm just really scared of losing you. I don't know what I'd do," you whispered, voice cracking and fear taking over. You had unconsciously let go of the tears and allowed them to prick the corners of your eyes again. Leo's gaze hardened with a determination, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His hand moved to cup the underside of your chin, gesturing to look him in the eyes.

"I swear on my honor, princess: you will never have to find out."

~ Raphael ~

You yelped as you woke, your body giving a shake. You pushed yourself up slightly onto your elbows, frantic, and breathing heavily. The frightening nightmare was still in your system, but as you looked around, your mind slowly crept back to the real world. You were in your boyfriend's bedroom, the red covers of the bed you were on and the knitting table in the corner being a dead giveaway. As your mind relaxed, realizing that it had all just been a dream, you closed your eyes for a minute, breathing in and back out a deep sigh of relief.

You returned to reality through taking deep breaths, and you slowly reconnected with your senses; particularly, your hearing. In the background of your momentary freakout had been Raph's low snores, and they came back to you now, growing louder in your brain as you grew more aware of them. You couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. Obviously, nothing had disturbed your 'sleep-like-the-dead' boyfriend.

You slowly opened your eyes back up to look down at the source of the sound beside you. Raphael slept on his stomach to your right, his arms bent upwards at his sides and his head turned in your direction. Normally, when you slept next to each other, he liked having you pressed up against his side as he slept on his stomach, so that you were partly under his massive shell. He liked to say that this was because in any emergency you would be protected, but you knew that was just masquerading his desire to be as close to you as he could be. He was not very communicative at times, sure, but as your relationship grew, you learned how to read his silent admittances of love and desire.

In all of your nightmare commotion, you had moved away from him, so you scooted closer to his side now, laying on your side to face him. You peered up at his sleeping face from your position, maskless and truly at peace, despite the angry snoring implying otherwise. You smiled to yourself as you looked up at him, glad to know that he was getting some much needed sleep.

Suddenly, movement shocked you as Raph re-adjusted in his sleep, and his massive arm was thrown over your waist, tightening and pulling you impossibly closer. You didn't make a sound, hoping not to disturb his slumber, but his snores continued as he held you close.

You smiled to yourself again and focused on the sound of Raph's snores to lull you back to sleep, knowing that you were safe from all harm with him by your side.

~ Donatello ~

You gasped as you woke up, shivers still shaking your body. You came to your senses quickly, realizing that none of it had been real, that it all had been a dream. But it didn't stop the feelings of fear and pain from bubbling into reality with you. And it didn't help that the one person you needed most wasn't by your side, where they were supposed to be.

You sighed out of frustration as you got out of your boyfriend's bed, tears stinging and threatening to spill. You slowly stood up and made your way out of his bedroom towards his lab space. And there Donatello was, hunched in his desk chair, typing furiously away on his computer and glaring at the much-too-bright screens through his tortoise-shell glasses.

"Donnie," you called out to him, voice cracking as you rubbed your eyes, not as accustomed to the brightness as his were. The sound caught his attention immediately as he turned toward you, eye ridges furrowed. "What is it, dove?" You glared at him, frustrated, the sting at the corner of your eyes growing stronger.

"You're not in bed," you stated simply, sounding almost insulted. Despite your tone, Donnie could see the wear that sleep was having on you, and smiled at you softly. "I just need about twenty--"

"I had a nightmare." Your voice cracked again, and the tears did what tears do best. The smile fell off of Don's face as he opened his arms for you, and you stumbled into them as sobs raked your body. He lifted you slightly so that your legs straddled his lap as you cried into his collarbone. You wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face further into his skin. He stroked your back, shushing you softly and whispering comforts into your ear. "It's alright, dove. You're here with me now, I have you."

Your sobs grew softer as he continued to pet you, softly rocking himself and you from side to side. You stayed like that for a few minutes more, and he smiled to himself again as your breathing continued to even, happy to see that you were starting to feel better. "Listen, let me finish up here and then I'll take us back to bed, okay? Does that sound like a good plan?"

You didn't answer, and as Donnie pulled you away from his chest, he saw that you had already cried yourself back to sleep. He chuckled to himself before replacing you, leaning forward to his computer to save his work before standing up from his desk chair, your form still wrapped around him.

~ Michelangelo ~

Michelangelo awoke with a groan, turning from his side to lay on his shell and rubbing his hands over his eyes. Something had just hit him in the face, causing him to wake up. He rolled back over to his side, deciding that it was nothing serious and about to go back to sleep, when the same small thing hit him on the plastron. Two more times.

He opened his eyes to see you thrashing around next to him in his bed, your face scrunched up as you mumbled incoherently. He stared at you for a moment as his groggy brain tried to process what was going on. You had to be sleeping, right? Is it a dream? He sat up on his side of the bed and was dumbstruck for a moment, unsure of what to do. What if he tried to wake you up and it didn't work? Would that make it worse? Or what if he woke you up and you got mad? That would definitely make it worse.

Mikey decided he had to find out, as your thrashing got more violent while he watched. He reached his large hand through your waving fists to reach your shoulder, softly trying to shake you awake. "Angelcakes? Wake up, babygirl," he spoke to you softly. It took a moment of shaking your shoulder, but you startled awake with a yelp, eyes wide and flickering around his bedroom before landing on him.

You sat up slightly so that you were leaning on your elbows, taking a deep breath. "Oh wow," you sighed out. "What a brutal nightmare. I haven't had a dream like that in ages." Your voice cracked as you spoke, partially from sleep and partially from the terrorizing images that wouldn't quite leave your brain yet.

Mikey's brow ridges furrowed for a moment. Out of all the turtle brothers, he was the one who went through nightmares the most often, and he knew exactly how you must be feeling. He watched as your eyes began to well up with tears, and it pained him to see you upset.

His large hands went to cradle your face, tough thumbs softly stroking the apples of your cheeks. "Hey, I'm here with you, angel. Nobody else, just me. No tears. Please?" He smiled at you softly as he whispered to you, before his face lit up. "Hey! Whaddya say we go get a midnight snack to get your mind off of it? Food is always good for clearing the mind~"

You couldn't help but chuckle, matching Mikey's dopey grin with one of your own. You cherished him so much; he always knew exactly how to cheer you up. "Let's do it," you responded to him. He got out of his bed and offered you his hand, guiding you into the kitchen and making you laugh at his jokes all the way. By the time you were chewing on a cold slice of pizza, you had forgotten what the dream was even about, all your focus on the sunshine boy in front of you.

[robertreich]

Socialism Fear-mongering is Bananas 

Don't get scared. I'm going to talk about something that’s caused a lot of fear mongering.

You see, advanced countries, like the United States, pool resources for the common good. How? Well, governments enact taxes and then spend that money on things that benefit everyone. Think of national defense, schools, highways, healthcare, unemployment insurance — basically government spending that protects the well-being of the people.

But since some folk, like your conservative Uncle Bob, think ANY pooling of resources for the common good is…socialism.

And since socialism is apparently so terrifying…

I'm going to use a different word to describe this taxing of individuals for the common good.  Let’s use.. I don't know.. How about…Banana! That's not scary, right? 

Great. So, there are essentially three purposes for which governments banana.

First, social insurance against the possibilities of misfortune and neediness, such as unemployment, poor health, disability, and so on.

Second, public goods that we all benefit from, such as parks, highways, public health, and national defense.

Third, public investment in our future, such as basic research, education, and efforts to address pollution and the climate crisis.

Whether we’re talking about Sweden, Spain, or Slovenia or the United States — all countries in capitalist economies banana to benefit the common good.

And bananing is how societies grow their economies, become more prosperous, and ensure a better life for their people.

It’s also how countries aid people in hard times — or when emergencies arise, like a global pandemic.

To simply call any government banana’ing “socialism...”  Oops, sorry I used the word.…Well it distorts our ability to think through how we banana and what we banana on.

And, it ignores the fact that the United States bananas LESS than most developed nations.

We’re among the worst when it comes to bananaing to reduce poverty, especially child poverty.

And pandemic aside, we banana less on unemployment insurance than nearly every other country.

Of course these countries generally have higher taxes than the United States to support all their bananing.

But they get more in return — better jobless benefits, better health care outcomes, debt-free education, more support for child care and elder care, and more generous retirement benefits.

And we could banana a lot more without having to raise taxes on middle or low-income Americans if the rich paid their fair share. Unfortunately, the tax code in the U.S. has been rigged so that the rich and powerful often skirt what they owe and get away with lower tax rates than regular people.

And the rich have done such a good job convincing people that any increase in banana’ing would be… you know, that S word ... that we just accept things as they are.

The only banana’ing they don’t seem to mind is on the military, where we banana more than the countries with the next 10 biggest militaries combined. That’s bananas!

All of this is a major reason why America has such staggering levels of inequality and poverty.

Whether bananing is “socialism” or not is a useless argument. Every country bananas. Capitalism requires banana’ing to ensure a degree of fairness and stability.  

So the next time your Uncle Bob decries any pooling of private resources for the common good — or bananaing — as “socialism”... share this video with him.  

And give him a banana.

[playbucky]

Wifey.

You and Ghost have been colleagues, some might say friends even lovers if you listen to the rumours, since you both joined the army.  Characters – Ghost x Reader, Price, Gaz, Soap, Laswell, Graves.  Word Count - 1.7k.

He slowly made his way into your room with heavy steps, ones he purposely did to make sure you heard him. Anyone else that looked into the room would assume that you were focused on the book on your lap, you followed his steps around the room, the routine that he always had. He made his way to the kettle and switched it on, you had filled it with fresh water when you came back. When the kettle boiled he grabbed his mug, the tea bag, sugar and milk before he made his concoction. You had tried to make it once, he drank it but the way his lips twisted with every sip you left it to him. He removed his out layers and welcomed the way his sweat cooled against his body even if he felt sticky and horrible, he made his way over and lowered himself into the couch beside you, the mask pulled up to rest on the bridge of his nose. The familiar scars on show for you and you alone. ‘How long?’ You asked, hands warmed by the mug in between them, you hadn’t drank the tea you made earlier. ‘Six months.’ He grumbled, your pouted. ‘I won’t be here when you come back, being sent on tour.’ You told him the news you got at eight am sharp this morning. ‘Again?’ He quizzed, you nodded as you turned to him. ‘The Lieutenant had an emergency, he’s taking my next one if he’s back.’ You said, Simon grunted next to you.

‘Where is she?’ You recognised his voice, it bounced off the walls, a quieter response came from someone but you couldn’t hear it. Incoming footsteps stopped outside your door, for once you were glad you were in a room by yourself when the door was pushed open. Ghost stood in the middle of the room, dark narrowed eyes searched the bare room before they landed on you. Simon made his appearance, the wrinkles between his brows smoothed. ‘Lieutenant Y/L/N, I tried to stop him.’ The nurse apologised, her eyes wide with fear and concern, you waved her off. ‘It’s alright.’ You told her, a weary glance was sent to Simon before she nodded. Once the door was shut behind her, Simon’s shoulders dropped, his eyes softened as he took you in. You had yet to see yourself but with the pain across your face, the wound ran down your cheek and was surrounded by a slow forming bruise. ‘I’m alright.’ You spoke, his gaze narrowed on your face. ‘Bullshit, I read your intake report.’ He admitted, ‘busted ribs, concussion, fractured eye socket, broken nose, broken leg - want me to go on?’ Simon quizzed, you shook your head. ‘No thank you, I can feel them.’ You replied, he narrowed his eyes at you. ‘What did you do, cannonball off the building.’ He commented, you didn’t respond, ‘Please tell me you didn’t.’ Simon almost begged you as his stomach flipped. ‘I didn’t.’ You replied, he glared at you ‘well it was either that or get blown up by a grenade, what would you rather?’ You asked, he grumbled some response as you tried to smile but the wound stopped you. ‘You’re an idiot.’ He breathed out, the hand on the edge of the bed wrapped around your hand. ‘I know.’ You replied, he played with a finger. ‘Did you succeed?’ Simon quizzed, you shook your head. ‘No,’ you inhaled, ‘Laswell’s coming in later to discuss it.’ ‘It wasn’t a tour, was it?’ He asked, you looked away from him. ‘Can’t say.’ Your fingers played with the blanket.  ‘Y/N.’ His voice deepened, you narrowed your eyes at him as you turned. ‘It’s still open, you know the rules.’ You reminded him, he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I don’t care about the rules when you end up here.’ He said. ‘Simon.’ You said sternly, you were sure he pouted underneath his mask. ‘Can I have a cuddle?’ You asked, he huffed but stood up, his large frame seemed to take up most the space. ‘Move over.’ He commanded, his voice soft as he motioned at you. Carefully your moved over, you face scrunched up and Simon jerked forward, you held a hand up. He huffed again before he watched you roll onto your side, he rested his hands on the blanket that had been draped over you. Slowly he snuck in behind you, once he was on, awkwardly but as comfortable as he would go without his worry of hurting you appearing. He wrapped an arm over you, hand across your chest as you hugged it. Warmth spread all over and you relaxed, Simon followed soon after.

Ghost followed Price, Soap and Gaz into the small conference room. The overhead lights had been dimmed enough to see the projector clearly. ‘Afternoon fellas.’ You greeted them, leg up on a second chair, the white cast stuck out. The others smiled widely at you but Ghost glared, silently he went to his seat whilst the group quizzed you, having not saw you for almost two weeks. ‘It’s nice to see you but we’re here for work not a catch up.’ You told them, they reluctantly walked away and lowered themselves into their seats, attention on you and the screen. ‘I told you my latest assignment was a regular tour, six months of drills and searches but I lied,’ you started, you watched their brows dipped, ‘Although I was with a team I was there for an alternative reason who I can now name as Phillip Graves.’ You informed them. ‘Very funny, we killed him two years ago.’ Soap said, you remained silent and rolled your neck. ‘You never.’ ‘Upon further investigation the person in the tank wasn’t Grave, he had a scapegoat and managed to escape.’ You explained, they looked confused and angry. ‘Laswell caught wind of him again about eight months ago.’ You said, all their attention snapped to Laswell who had her head lowered, ‘I managed to get close enough to watch him, the team he’s gained is supporting a few terrorist organisations.’ ‘So, when’s the attack?’ ‘Not sure, but three of his members flew into to Heathrow this morning and Graves, or Andrew Smith joined them two hours ago.’ You explained. ‘You got a plan for us?’ Price asked, Kate nodded and stepped forward to take over. Everyone looked at her to pay attention but you knew Simon was watching you, you turned to him and you were right. The dark eyes appeared to be glaring at you but they weren’t. ‘I’m sorry.’ you mouthed, he dipped his head before he turned to Kate. ‘You know, your girlfriends pretty good at jumping from roofs, she’s beautiful as well.’ Graves said, he was trying his best to get under Ghost’s skin but he tilted his head back to make contact eye contact with him. ‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’ He responded, his voice emotionless. ‘So, who’s that pretty thing then?’ Graves quizzed, Ghost stared at him but he noticed something click in his pea sized brain. ‘She’s your wife.’ He stated, Ghost didn’t react but Soap and Price glanced at him cautiously, one of them knew the answer, ‘I mean, I heard all the rumours when I was with you for that short time and truthfully, I see it.’ He leaned back in his seat. ‘Big bad Ghost who’s said to be unbreakable and the pretty little thing who breaks herself.’ He said, Ghost narrowed his eyes behind bis mask as Graves chuckled to himself. ‘No wonder she turned me down how many times.’ Graves commented, in order to annoy Simon but truthfully he already knew about the attempts. ‘Maybe you just need to listen to women, or anyone in general.’ Soap commented, Graves’ eyes snapped to him with a sinister smile. 

‘They found out.’ He whispered into your ear, his grip tight around your back. ‘What?’ You asked, he pulled back as you looked at his face. ‘You’re married.’ Soap exclaimed, Simon huffed and you could see the annoyance on his face. ‘Yeah.’ You sighed, you looked at Gaz who looked shocked and confused as well. ‘You never told us.’ He said, you crossed your arms over your chest, Soap stopped. ‘Wasn’t a need to know.’ You commented, Simon stood next to you as the men tried to interrogate you. ‘Bullshit.’ He spat put. ‘Soap.’ You snapped, he looked at you, ‘I apologise that we never told you or Kyle, our jobs, especially mine means I can’t flaunt any relationships no matter how important they are to me.’ You said. ‘Can we ask why?’ Soap asked. ‘Yeah, doesn’t mean we’ll answer.’ Simon quickly replied. ‘Simon,’ you started, ‘it was for support or convenience. None of us had family so we came to the conclusion it’d be easier and here we are.’ You held an arm out, Soaps eyebrows had raised. ‘Explains why he listens to you.’ Gaz commented, you chuckled as Simon stepped closer.  ‘He doesn’t listen I’m just the voice of reason that he knows if he breaks it, he’ll get into trouble.’ You told the group, Simon rolled his eyes and his grip on your waist tightened slightly. ‘I think we should go the pub.’ Soap stated. ‘Why?’ You asked him, head tilted to the side. ‘To celebrate the real death of Graves.’ He commented, you saw the glint in his eyes. ‘And?’ You quizzed. ‘There isn’t an and.’ Soap commented, you arched your eyebrow but the smile spread over Soap’s lips gave you the answer. ‘There’s always an and with you.’ Simon commented. ‘Fine,’ he sighed, ‘we should celebrate your marriage.’ He said hopeful, you silently chuckled. ‘Soap we’ve been together for almost twenty years.’ Simon admitted to the group, their eyes widened. ‘All the more to celebrate.’ Gaz commented, you lowered your head now that he was joining in. ‘I mean, I could use a drink.’ You stated, Simon’s head snapped around to you before he sighed and nodded. Soap cheered before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lead the pair of you away. Price and Gaz followed closely but Simon watched, his heartbeat quickened as he looked at his family. You looked over your shoulder and looked at him, an eyebrow raised before you stretched a hand out inviting him to join. 

[family-blug]

Fgggg

Emergency: Help Evacuate What's Left of My Family From the Gaza War Dear Humanity.🍉🚨🚨

Here is our story - On October 7, our lives changed forever, we witnessed the real tragedy, 45 days we lived in our house surrounding the Al-Shifa hospital Complex with terror and pain every day, new events, and the most heinous crimes were practiced, shooting everywhere, terrifying fire belts that continued for half an hour, the sky lit up red, bombing all the towers and bakeries surrounding us, and all the solar energy on the roofs of the buildings and electricity motors, bombing all the surrounding restaurants and practicing starvation as a weapon, cutting off water, cutting off all types of meat, cutting off communication and communication networks, rising prices. Two days passed and we were unable to obtain potable water, we were drinking polluted water, and after our insistence on not evacuating the house, my family was evacuated from the house under threat and force in the northern Gaza Strip in (Al-Wahda Street opposite Zahran Restaurant), hoping to return soon, but that was not intended. On the same day we left the house, we learned that the house that was once a fortress of hope, is now destroyed and unfit for habitation, but our leaving the house was The real supplication as my room was destroyed, bordered by the living room, which was completely destroyed by the force of the explosion, and all the shrapnel penetrated the walls, where my mother's room, the shrapnel penetrated the ceiling of the room and the missile fell on her bed, where we were with my grandmother hoping that the danger was far away, but we were not spared from the brutality of the occupation. The danger approached two days later, the night when Al-Shifa Hospital was invaded was screaming.

The sounds of bombing were everywhere, causing a loud noise that seemed to penetrate our souls. Each explosion shook the ground like earthquakes, sending waves of fear through our trembling bodies. The air smelled of destruction and blood, making it difficult to breathe. When dawn broke, we saw the destruction around us, and we realized that our home had now become a symbol of loss and despair. We were at my grandmother’s house, hearing the sounds of approaching vehicles and death surrounding us from every direction, telling us, “I am here.” It was a very terrifying night. Flare bombs were everywhere in the city. Everyone was targeted. The occupation was calling all our phones and ordering us to move to the southern part of the Strip, and that we were in a dangerous combat zone. It was sending messages: “You must leave your homes immediately and head south for your safety. You must not return to your homes until further notice, according to the Defense Forces.”

Since that time we left and did not return to our home. Everything was completely destroyed. I was separated from my fiancé and my brothers. My father was killed in this fierce war. Our souls ascended to heaven. I lost everything, all my belongings, my office and my laptop. I left our clothes. The house was destroyed by 80%. The furniture was completely destroyed. My bedroom was destroyed.

In the 3-storey building we had a group of shops for rent that have now been completely destroyed and everything has become ashes and we have no other livelihood

I have no income here, just tell me ، how to live!

Pleas if it is not donation, help me with areblog or like and thank you front the bottom of my heart.🍉

‏Iam Diaa‼️🚨

‏I graduated from the Faculty of Sharia Law at the Islamic University with a Master's degree and now I am a doctoral researcher. I was hoping to complete my doctorate degree which I registered for in Egypt, but I will not be able to complete it yet because of the poor internet network. The price of the crossing ticket is very expensive. I was working in a private company in Al-Galaa, but I lost my job since the beginning of the war because my workplace was destroyed. I also lost the family home and my future home which I have not yet celebrated with my fiancée, Lauren, unfortunately. Now I want to leave to complete my doctorate degree in law. I aspire to do so and I cannot sleep because I dream of completing it.

https://gofund.me/142cc793

‏Please help even if it's $10 it can make a difference and if not just share the post

‏Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #218 )✅️

@90-ghost @sar-soor @sayruq @herecomesthementalmeltdown @words-of-emotion @sar-soor

[bethanydelleman]

Your discussion with someone about Lady Russell reminded me of this great scholarly article analyzing her from the Jane Austen Journal: www(.)thefreelibrary(.)com/%22A+New+Set+of+Opinions+and+of+Hopes%22%3a+Lady+Russell%27s+Education.-a0595143486 . Recommended for all Persuasion and Jane Austen fans!

This is a fairly long article, here is the link:

I don't really agree with the author's premise, "Though she might not admit it to herself, Lady Russell's actions throughout the novel reflect a somewhat necromantic desire for Lady Elliot to be brought back to life through Anne... Lady Russell consequently desires two contradictory things: she wants Anne to remain exactly like Elizabeth Stevenson always (which really could be accomplished, she later thinks, if Anne were to marry Mr. Elliot), and she wants Anne as a copy to be wiser and happier than the original."

I think the author is too harsh here. Lady Russell has lost a beloved friend and she sees her friend in her friend's daughter. That's not weird necromantic wishes, that's a super normal human thing. Loving a child because you loved her mother is so human.

Secondly, Lady Russell doesn't just desire Anne to be a duplicate of Lady Elliot, she wants her to be married and happy (a normal goal)

Lady Russell, as satisfied as ever with her own discretion, never wished the past undone, she began now to have the anxiety which borders on hopelessness for Anne’s being tempted, by some man of talents and independence, to enter a state for which she held her to be peculiarly fitted by her warm affections and domestic habits.

Lady Russell also advocated strongly for Anne to go to London, which would take her away from Kellynch (which is against the whole, clone of Lady Elliot who stays near Lady Russell argument I sometimes hear)

She had been repeatedly very earnest in trying to get Anne included in the visit to London, sensibly open to all the injustice and all the discredit of the selfish arrangements which shut her out

I do like this paragraph:

Lady Russell's aversion to pain no doubt influenced her decision to interfere in Anne and Wentworth's relationship in 1806. She feared that Wentworth, in his professional uncertainty, would sink Anne "into a state of most wearing, anxious, youth-killing dependance!" (29). In Mansfield Park's Mrs. Price, Austen gives us a portrait of Lady Russell's fear, and we ought not to dismiss her very valid concerns. (9) But Mrs. Musgrove and Mrs. Croft, who are each, in their way, likewise mother-figures in the novel, offer a corrective. They agree that it is actually salutary to '"have young people settle on a small income at once, and have to struggle with a few difficulties together'" (251). If they '"marry at once, and make the best of it, as many others have done before them'" (250-51), they stand a chance of learning through experience how to thrive in spite of challenges and of drawing closer together in united endurance. Among the goods that can often emerge from this type of salutary suffering are commitment and maturity: though we will never know what might have been, it's possible that Commander Wentworth might have stopped "spending freely, what had come freely" if he had had '"an object,'" that is, if '"the woman'" he loved "'liv[ed], and liv[ed]"' for him (29, 256). Through Mrs. Musgrove and Mrs. Croft's conversation, Austen tacitly criticizes Lady Russell's wish to shield Anne from the kind of pain that comes from struggle.

Anyway, thank you for sharing!

[zofi-persson-quotes]

Under cut bc it's hella long

“Alright, who ate my ice cream.”

The flurry of hand pointing that follows would be comical were it not for the murderous look in Second’s eyes.

“If you’re all to blame,” Second says, cracking his knuckles, “then perish.”

Dark screams when Second charges him, the older Becker sibling unfortunately being the closest to the enraged teen. The Overlord goes down with a helpless cry for mercy, taking a pillow directly to the face, and the other Sticks in the room take their chance to book it in different directions.

Vic takes Dark’s unwilling distraction as a chance to throw themselves out the nearest open window. Blue, opting for the quickest and more efficient route out of his enraged sibling’s path, climbs on top of a dresser, well out of Sec’s reach, while Green and Purple run down into the cellar before emerging through the outside entrance, only to find an angry Second armed with a pillow for each of them waiting on the other side. Green decides to sacrifice himself for his boyfriend by wrapping his arms around the smaller Stick to take the blows.

“I shall protect you, my love!” He declares.

“GREEN!” Purple wails.

“IT WAS LIQUORICE YOU CRETINS!!”

It’s the last thing Vic hears before they throw themselves into the Wi-Fi portal to make their way to the nearest store for more ice cream. Maybe next time they want to try eating with their android body, it shouldn’t be their little sibling's comfort food. Then again, the others were all smiling while they were pursued, so perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

By the time Vic returns from their tactical retreat with more ice cream something has gone wrong.

The blinds of the house are shut and the door, which had been left open to let the warm fall air in through the screen door is now shut tight.

“Guys?” they knock on the door, very concerned with the abrupt change in the air, “What’s going on?”

The door flies open, and Sec hauls them inside.

“Quick! Quick, don’t let it in!!” Dark hastens. The couch and tables have been upended to face the front door and the three Sticks taking cover behind them look ready for an incoming enemy attack. Vic seriously wonders what they missed in the hour they were gone.

“Did you see it?!” Green yelps.

“See what?” Vic asks, stepping forward to assess the situation. The others look prepared for war against a home invasion of insects. Purple is wielding roach killer in one hand and a rolled-up newspaper in the other. Dark’s white-knuckled grip on a baseball bat betray their fear at whatever they’re planning on fighting, and Green has two spatulas that he’s holding defensively in front of him.

“I didn’t see it when I…” Second’s voice trails off as Vic passes him.

“Where’s Blue?” Vic asks and Purple points up at the dresser he had seen the alchemist climb up onto earlier. He isn’t armed with anything, oddly enough, and is pressing himself further and further away from the door with a pale, horrified look on his face.

“Oh, there you are. Why are you all so scared?”

Dark makes a choked off noise and backs away from them.

“Dark?”

Purple shrieks when Vic turns around to face their sibling, accompanied by scrambling from the direction of the dresser.

“Okay, no this is fine, Vic-” Second makes a hysterical noise, “don’t - just don’t move.”

Green makes a noise that sounds like a dying mouse.

“I-I-I can get it.” Dark stammers with shaking legs.

“You’re not going to hit him with the bat!” Sec hisses.

“You’d rather Purple try the newspaper?” Dark demands, gaining confidence as he speaks and then losing it again for reasons Vic doesn’t understand. “Or – look it’s too big for the roach killer-”

“Too big? TOO BIG?!” Green cries. “We’d need a hose of the stuff for that thing! What are we going to do? Hit it with what we have and expect that to work?! I HAVE A SPATULA, Dark!”

“Okay, okay. Stay calm, I can try using the whole thing?” Purple meekly tries to sooth the others, as if they don't even want to make the attempt.

“I’m starting to worry about your sanities, will you just tell me what’s going on?” Vic crosses his arms sternly and begins to move towards the kitchen to put the ice cream, that is surely melting at this point, in the freezer. There’s yelling from all sides as they make their way to the kitchen, but they only stop when they hear the buzzing.

Out of the corner of their eye a blob of brown mars their vision and they turn around their head just in time to see that it’s part of the mesothrax of a very, very big cockroach.

It flies off their back (ah, that would explain a lot actually) and approaches the wall nearSecond who looks ready to pass out at the sight of it but manages to swing his broom to drive it in a different direction. Purple reflexively starts spraying the roach killer at it which it doesn’t take kindly to.

The cockroach erratically flies around the room, causing shrieks of terror and panicked scrambling from everyone to get away from it. Vic stares, analyzing it. It’s enormous, three feet long and a wingspan that easily doubles that, making it an extremely unusual sight.

Green dives over the couch to get away from it with a screech and Dark tackles Purple out of the way of its path. “Spray it! Spray it!” Second yells.

Purple dutifully sprays in its direction, the others not wanting to get close with their short-ranged weapons. It flies away and Purple follows (at a distance) with the others trailing behind them. The ground they gain is lost, however, as the roach killer runs out and the behemoth of an insect doesn’t seem too badly affected by their attack. There’s a brief moment where the heroes stare at the empty can in Purp’s hand and then raise their heads to look at the enemy that no longer has a reason to leave them alone.

All the color leaves their faces, and the Sticks dart out the front door without looking back.

“I do not understand people’ fear of roaches.” Vic admits, watching them trip over each other in their haste to escape. They step over to the bug that has since landed on the floor and is now scuttling around the room.

“I’m sorry but you must depart.” Vic rolls up their sleeves and grabs one of its legs. It buzzes angrily and scrapes its legs against the floor to get away from them. In the process, it dislodges its leg from the joint and flees to the ceiling.

Vic wrinkles his nose at the smell and tosses the leg outside. They go back to try again (perhaps if they grab its body instead of another leg, they'll have more success?) but they're met with further resistance from the bug.

their android body is still new to them and they've been careful with it so far, but if they're going to get the bug down from the ceiling, they’ll have to be a bit reckless. With one powerful jump they're eye-level with its body and they latche on. Their heavy metal frame yanks it off the ceiling.

Long brown legs wiggle desperately, throwing them off-balance. They drop it to regain their balance and they're startled to see it turn around to face them, short but sharp mandibles launching towards their face (wait a minute, cockroaches don’t have mandibles, maybe it’s not-)

It falls to the side before they can close around his head, a knife sticking out of the side of its skull.

Blue wheezes from the top of the dresser, wide-eyed and short of breath. A hand is extended with open fingers and another knife is already primed for throwing in his other. He sags back against the wall behind him calming down now that the bug is dead, before starting do descend from it.

Vic leaves him up on the dresser and cleans up the mess on their own, hauling the body out the door and mopping up the acid from its body on the floor. By then the younger is on the ground.

“Do you want to go find the others or shall I?” Vic asks, handing him back the (bug brain free) knife.

Blue shakes his head, putting the knife back in its drawer “They’ll come back eventually.”

“Were you up there that whole time?”

“I came down when I heard screaming, and then the others ran in screaming about a giant cockroach.” Blue admits, “I climbed back up not long after.”