#I started making bullet points and I literally have 9 just off the top of my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mulders-too-large-shirt · 6 months ago

Text

s3 episode 9 thoughts

i have so much to say. i just copied and pasted my notes, and my thoughts were COMICALLY long. but it was SUCH a good episode so i have a LOT to point out. even more than usual, somehow.

(screams to let it all out and then tries to take a deep breath and gather myself)

okay. OKAY FUCK. okay. whew. we start from the top. the very very top, in which i click on the episode. and so begins an emotional rollercoaster.

this episode description mentions a train. as does the one after that!!! am i in for a two parter?!?! well, if so, at least i am prepared with this information, so i don’t get a massive shock like with duane barry! (author’s note: i was right!)

a train. huh. would love to ride one of those someday. unfortunately i’m american. we only really have cargo ones hanging about. but their noise is deeply familiar and comforting to me regardless.

(little did i know that this was the very kind of train to be featured in this episode!!)

camera opens on tennessee! children are riding bikes to watch a train. ah, good to know the desire to stop doing other things and instead watch a train go by is universal.

now it’s night at the train. is some graffiti action going to take place? the music is getting weirder as we look at the top of this train, and it appears we are in for no ordinary graffiti moment as some cars pull up.

and these people are from japan! in tenneseee! boarding the train…? which is full of science stuff!! this is odd on many levels.

(japan to tennessee… whew, that’s a long flight. give these men some caffeine now!)

caffeine seems to be ignored because they are in surgery looking gear cutting something open. and green stuff flows into a jar? hey. not liking that.

they are cutting into what looks like, in my opinion, some guts.

until people run in and start shooting!!! really truly shooting and killing everyone!!! what!!! what the hell!! who are these guys!! are they with cig man??? holy fuck, if that WAS an alien autopsy, way to ruin the scientific method with bullets in the lab!!

and they are zipping an alien into a bag!! so it was!!! the blatant disregard for learning here!! it’s appallingly american! who are these people?!!

bum bum bum bum… woo woo woo woo wooo wooo… woo woo woo woo WOOO woo… intro time.

mulder has his feet up on the desk. fiddling with… something. scully opens the door and he tells her to come on in, with the face of a man who is scheming. he has it all dark like a movie theatre!!!

LMAOOOO he ordered a video from a magazine of an alien autopsy. and that must be why he looks like a kid in a candy store. $29.95, plus shipping!!! THAT IS A LOT!!

she’s like, you literally cannot see what they are operating on. and she says it’s hokier than the one they aired on fox news. which means i have to google a few things to learn if that actually happened. actually i don’t want to even know.

he mentions the green goo and he says “it’s widely held that aliens don’t have blood, scully” <- girl how would she know that. also you literally almost died FROM alien blood. so explain.

they’re arguing the merits of what makes an authentic alien autopsy tape, and then he points out how the people burst in with guns right before the film cuts off. well, that could make it look more authentic, or less!

some guy in allentown got the tapes so they’re visiting LMAOOO road trip road trip!!!! to a very old looking house.

the studio is called “rat tail productions” okayyy. i kinda like that. but it’s all boarded up so they have to try and break in.

and they find a dead body!! that is still warm!!! what is going on!!!

someone else enters!! and mulder chases after them and jumps the fence yelling that he is a federal agent. zooooom that is a speedy man.

and just when it seems mulder has the guy, he starts kicking and punching and BOOM! down goes mulder. until he shoots something nearby to show he isn’t playing.

mulder is wet from falling into a bunch of garbage… king. and the language barrier is being a barrier!

(sidenote i’m surprised they didn’t make mulder learn another language in school or for the fbi?? like actually really shocked. you’d think he’d have at least one other one, or a few basic phrases, under his belt. idk, where i’m from higher education in humanities related fields requires language learning, but he somehow escaped)

mulder is pretty despite being covered in garbage and bringing a man to a police station

scully says they can’t find an interpreter! this is not really shocking because they are in pennsylvania.

“well look at this… a beacon in the night” says mulder whilst smiling, and who is it he glances upon but SKINNER?!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?? are they in trouble?? does… skinner know japanese??

(mulder asks and he does not 💔)

skinner says they have to let the guy (kazuo sakurai) go because he is a high ranking diplomat. so if you’re a diplomat can you just… walk away from a murder scene and that isn’t a problem?? at all? i did not think it worked like this.

skinner asks what they’re doing and mulder says he’s tracking down a “video piracy thing” LMAOOOO least convincing lie ever.

skinner tells him to go back home, and then very purposefully brushes into his shoulder before walking away. yowch! that has got to sting. mulder looks like he just got caught and is trying to charm his way out of it

scully rightfully points out that this makes no sense, and asks if he wants to drop it, but mulder says he paid his $29.95 and he is gonna get his answers!!!

LMAOOO he “forgot” to turn in the suitcase kazuo was carrying. it has a list of members of a ufo society with a local woman’s name circled!! was she gonna be their next target…?

he tells her to get a motel and he is going to go back to D.C. and be “a good boy” for skinner… LMAOOO, and he’ll show the files to his besties

back in D.C., and woah, mulder looks like a real slut with his hands on his waist and his jeans and tucked in turtleneck sweater. i am NOT complaining. just merely observing. it’s kinda giving that one photo of the rock. i see where he took his style inspo from.

so the lone gunmen say that the japanese were looking for a sunken ship from wartime, and it looks like they found it, but they brought it to virginia? very weird. maybe they did not find a sub… but something else.

the diplomats are heading home. or not. because someone is beating up kazuo! huh?! WHAT!

scully on da scene in allentown pa. serving. knocking at a door of the person whose name was circled in the files.

but the person goes to answer the door and she says they know her. she’s like umm not sure about that?? until another person comes to the door and says “oh my god… she’s one” WHAT??

(is this like a secret society of people who were abducted or like. are they trying to scam her or something?)

she looks super freaked out. she’s trying to explain that she’s here for murder investigation reasons, but the lady in pink (penny) is calling and saying everyone needs to come over right away. this will surely make scully even more stressed.

they ask her if there was some unexplained event that happened last year. and also to please sit down. so you KNOW things are about to get wild.

mulder is asking about the ship that allegedly was returning through panama. and the boat was stopped! but then kept going? the guy he’s asking to look into this does not seem to be pleased to discuss this subject.

scully is freaking tf out but trying to gently explain that she does NOT KNOW THESE PEOPLE. but they’re talking about being taken to “the bright white place” and that she was only taken once, but these other women were taken many times. WHAT IS GOING ON.

they ask her about regression hypnosis and she’s like i do not want to talk about this. (and yes i even TRIED IT) and she looks around at all the other women and it is creepy. SAVE HER… save them all.

mulder is running away from the guy he asked for the files from. he’s always going somewhere. looking at a boat. looking at another boat. is he gonna sneak on the boat? YES HE IS. HE IS JUMPING ON IT. elbowing a window open to get in. this is a wild man!! he will break into your boat!!!

he’s going through drawers looking for stuff and i’m thinking, oh man i really hope the boat doesn’t start heading out to sea… he has nothing to survive on. and we’ve seen them kill people, so don’t say “accidental” boat abandonment with a guy on it is out of the realm of possibility. but it IS the boat he was hoping for. and now he’s sneaking about its underbelly.

NO! he has been caught. the boat is being swarmed by men with guns. he seems too tall to hide…. but he did!! AND HE JUMPS INTO THE HARBOR LMAOOOOO, NOOO, THE POLLUTANTS!!

back to scully. i was so caught up in the boat espionage i had forgotten about scully’s dilemma. and they say that she won’t remember what happened to her for a while. cut scene to her being blowed up again like we saw in s2.

and she is really freaking out now, because they point out that they all have the mark and she just wants to learn about this murder, damn it, not unpack trauma!!

but betsy, who she came to see, is dealing with very severe cancer. and they say that what she is dealing with is going to happen to all of them. WHAT??? “we’re all dying because of what they do to us” OH MY GOD??? she has tears in her eyes. WHAT!!! what.

back to the boat. do i look like i give a damn about the boat!! no!! but mulder is crawling- at night- from the harbor. so did he stay there all evening or….

so he’s once again on the run. and soaking wet. please take a shower, my friend. you know not what they do in that harbor.

he sees people pulling in to the warehouse nearby!! with guns!!! and we see him sneak by!!! no, mulder, consider going home and not getting caught!! but what if he finds something that can help scully…? and oh my gosh, he doesn’t even KNOW she’s slowly dying yet. oh my gosh wait i need to sit down (said by the girl who is literally sitting)

the orchestral score is popping off, too. he peeks in a window and sees a giant… thing? being gassed. with cameras out and about. like a blimp looking thing.

somehow he gets a change of clothes. and he goes home but his apartment door was unlocked! so he has his gun. is it skinner?

IT IS!! whew! that was best case scenario, so it was just wishful thinking on my part, but maybe i really am deeply attuned to this show. skinner is sitting there in the dark. we see some photos on mulder’s desk but they kinda just look like random places. one is some sort of field? and the other is a house, i think? not recognizable to me. but back to the plot at hand.

skinner tells him to put the gun down. sort of like you tell a dog to drop it. he obeys. aww, he is a good boy for skinner, like he mentioned earlier.

so skinner has some tea; kazuo’s body was found in a canal!!!! he didn’t make his flight!! and they government thinks he was killed over his BRIEFCASE!!!

mulder plays dumb. then he admits that scully has the briefcase in her car. he seems like he’s trying to play it cool but skinner is NOT having it. “this is bigger than me, you, or the FBI, agent mulder” okayyyy king of being vague. and he says he is not getting involved!!! woah!!!

so mulder goes to… a senator!!! yes, the senator we saw very briefly a few times before, whose name is richard matheson? i didn’t really understand that in the past, but maybe it was building up to this. richard says to return the photos, but mulder says he’ll be entangled in a murder investigation, which he cannot afford because he is so close to the truth!

this senator claims to be telling mulder the truth about what is going on. and he explains what happens in tennessee, how the japanese doctors were murdered doing a secret thing.

“what am i onto here?” , he asks. “monsters begetting monsters”, says the senator. ohhhhhhh that does not sound good.

(i hope he exposes the alien people and the torture and they blow up all the people that hurt scully and the rest of those women and then hold hands)

he’s back in his office with his glasses on. and i would be glad for a glasses mulder win under normal circumstances, but my heart is sick over scully. i take what i can get when i can get it, though, because he is a beautiful man in glasses.

SCULLY’S BACK!! and she is still freaking out. she relays the news that she might be dying, and he looks up at her so innocently and says “but you’re fine, aren’t you scully?” OHHHH BABY. BABY. GROWN MAN. BUT BABY. OHHHHHHH MY HEART. MY HEART ITS MELTING. MY EYES ARE TEARING. “but you’re fine, aren’t you?” oh lord… he cannot lose anymore people.

she is terrified- “am i? i don’t know, mulder” NOOOOOOOO MY BABY. STOP. DO NOT DO THIS TO HER.

he pulls up a photo and she says she knows someone in it, but that guy has been dead since 1965. mulder seems to find this difficult to believe, but last episode he was suggesting that someone was bleeding another person’s blood, so i feel he of all people should be open to this idea.

(oh…. they’re using unit 731 for the storyline here. and they have done that in the past as well but. wow. awful lot of baggage to dredge up there. very very painful and unhealed wounds)

((and i guess before they have done similar things involving nazis, right, remember victor? and his experiments? even if it was done before though, it doesn’t make it any less chilling to me. i’m not sure how i feel about using real horrific war crimes as plot points in an alien show))

but my reckoning with history aside, mulder says that four of the men in that photo were in the alien autopsy video. and they were murdered.

“murdered for what? or murdered by whom?” oh scully, you deserve none of the suffering that the world has given to you. NONE OF IT. if i were mulder, i would hug her and never let go ever. ever ever.

he thinks they’re still trying to make an alien-human hybrid, but she still isn’t buying it, even after everything; she needs proof. she says believing is the easy part, but he disagrees. “you think that believing is easy?” he asks, and it hangs in the air.

oh, i want to linger in that space forever. the tension it creates, the things it reveals about him. how belief is centered on hope, how he has to fight for it, that it doesn’t come as natural as breathing as he might have you thinking. it’s hope for a better future, it’s hope for righting old wrongs, it’s looking where no one else will go find the answers. it’s about getting family back. it’s about fighting and sneaking and learning and even killing to get what you need to know. but it’s never easy.

FUCK. I’M LIKE GONNA JUMP UP AND DOWN. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!!!!!! THIS IS THE STUFF!!!

they hold eye contact for a bit, until she sighs and breaks it (fuck me, i’m emotional) and he points out that they DO have proof, as he reaches for her arms- the spy photos were tracking a ship that pulled a UFO out of the ocean, and the UFO is in that warehouse that he saw earlier!! that thing i said looked like a blimp!!!

he says the US has a secret railroad. i yearn so desperately for accessible transportation. if the government said tomorrow, yeah, we have a secret rail system, i’m not sure how i’d react. perhaps relief?

there is very very very charged eye contact.

okay, bringing the thingy from her neck to a guy who can understand it. it’s a “micro processor”, and there are a few companies that make them. and they are being used for many things. so was it made by ordinary people, and not alien tech…? who is doing the torturing and testing…? and to what end???

it’s all women in that room… is it for alien breeding purposes… oh, i shutter to imagine

back in west virginia!!! mulder has a leather jacket on and a dream as he climbs up into some sort of railroad building’s roof. his hair blows dreamily in the wind as he busts out some binoculars. if he were to be caught, he could probably convincingly claim he was a birder. i understand they go through a lot to find their birds.

people are showing up. they’re speaking japanese and getting what looks like a LIVING ALIEN onto the train? mulder is on the move. the train is taking off. is he gonna play subway surfers irl and try to jump on that thing? yes, he is SPRINTING. but he realizes he cannot outrun a train.

back to scully cam. she is watching footage. a japanese surgeon is taking off his surgical gear and she recognizes him!! OH MY GOSH SHE RECOGNIZES HIM FROM HER TESTING! NOOOOO!!! NOOOO!

she answers the phone like she wasn’t unpacking horrific information and mulder reports from west virginia. and she points out that she recognizes the doctor… but not from the video tape. NOOOOOOO. realization crosses his face, and i’m sure only adds fuel to his fire to get on that damn train.

so mulder is trying to catch up with the train. a handsome japanese man is being followed by the dude that killed the other guy earlier. AND NO!!!! the killer just killed the handsome japanese man and locked him in the bathroom. then adjusted his hair???

mulder JUST misses the train. perhaps this is for the best?

scully going home. WHY IS X THERE?!?!?!? he’s telling her to tell mulder to get OFF OF THE TRAIN. she rightly is suspicious but he is NOT playing around.

mulder is about to leap on top of the train when he gets the call from scully. and he asks who told her what he was doing and to stop it, and like me, she is also probably realizing she doesn’t know this dude X’s name.

and he jumps on the train!!! but loses his phone in the process!!!!!

TO BE CONTINUED!!!!

WHAT THE HELL.

okay, my yelling aside, THIS is when the show is at its best, imo. THIS is the blueprint for me. character driven. heart of the plot. reveal after reveal but vague enough to keep me wanting more. the government is evil and every conspiracy has more conspiracies. getting to know what is ACTUALLY going on in snippets. skinner is there. this episode truly had it all.

EXCEPT an ending, of course, because now i have to WAIT to watch the next part. SO TRULY DIABOLICAL!

no no, i jest, i can take a cliffhanger most of them time. i just better not have ANY distractions tomorrow.

whew, so much to unpack. i think there are two things that are sticking out the most to me here: scully’s terror and mulder’s belief.

her not knowing what to believe is true about herself and the world she has studied so carefully, being surrounded by strangers who claim to know her, that know things ABOUT her, and who tell her she is going to die slowly and horribly. how she tears up when she learns this. how she tried so hard to get control over the situation by pivoting to the murder case, only to be denied. how the reigns of control slip from her hands, and it is left to fate. and how horrific that is. how she cannot handle processing what was done to her, but is forced to, by seeing this guy who did unspeakable things to her again. how she says she needs proof. as if she’s biding her time, waiting for a full answer so that the reality of what she has gone through can sink in. if there’s never proof, maybe she’ll never have to process it.

and mulder, who thinks that belief is hard. who has sacrificed so much of his life to belief, put himself in danger countless times to find the truth that everyone around him either denies or ridicules him for. how he has little more than his work, because he needs there to be hope. if belief is terror for scully, to him it is a source of possibility. how they’re both wrapped into the same tragedy with entirely separate takes on what it means and how to proceed but whatever is bringing them together keeps weaving them tighter and tighter.

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHH. i could scream.

i actually typed all of that, took way more notes than usual, and STILL feel like i’m barely scratching the surface. i feel like i need to give a lecture on this subject matter to even sort of drain the giant well within me of feelings regarding them. his face, how he insists she has to be okay, right? right? and her terror when she admits she doesn’t know.

now. i hate to say it, but i have seen vague spoilers about what happens in the next season, involving illness. and i have a feeling i’m gonna cry like a baby because i’m so messed up just by this. maybe it’s a sensitive topic for me, or maybe i’m just too deeply attached to these nerds and need them to be happy.

but the depth of my feeling is indicative of how amazing this episode was. it was fast-paced, but not too fast to follow. it explored our character’s hopes and dreams and fears. the dialogue and acting was excellent. how much can be said with just eye contact, and then it breaking, is stunning. i want to know what happens next, and despite my eagerness, i am too disciplined and sleepy to go onto the next episode.

(i have some thoughts that i need to gather and articulate at a later time regarding the use of unit 731 as a plot point, but they’re still loading, and frankly it would be better to make a post just on that subject once i can figure out how to verbalize them and if i feel that i can confidently tackle the subject matter)

goodnight world, i’m gonna scream.

#this took so much longer than usual but it was worth it because WOW i’m shocked #but now i need sleep so pretend you don’t see any glaring typos #and i hope you can feel my enthusiasm from behind the screen #juni's x files liveblog #3x09 #the x files #txf

24 notes · View notes

rachel-of-autumnbow · 1 year ago

Text

Day 9 of @fanovember: Vampires.

Percy enters a mansion presumably haunted by a couple of vampire twins, but there's nowhere else to spend the stormy night.

Probably grammar mistakes. Perc'ahlia. Vampires. Side Vaxleth cause i cant help it. Percy is a (literal) wet cat. Enjoy

9. Vampires

The storm was raging and Percy was soaked, as well as his glasses. He could barely see, and his backpack was heavier than usual. It was dark, the only source of light were the lightning that broke the sky in two every minute in a deafening burst also shaking his whole body.

He finally made it to the mansion atop the hill and knocked on the front door. It opened with that mere push, which was strange, given the strength of the wind. Suspicious, Percy entered the hall and closed the door behind him. He shook the water off his head and his glasses and let the backpack down on the floor. There were candles on through the room. “Hello?” Only his own echo answered, along with the muffled storm outside. “Anybody home?” Rain falling on the rose window, but nothing else. “Fuck it.” Percy hung his backpack on his shoulder and started walking towards the stairs, decided to find a room for himself, and maybe even a bathroom.

When he got to the top of the first section, he heard a laugh. A masculine laugh. Percy shook his head. “Don’t let the local stories get into your head. Vampire twins. Yeah, sure. This has been abandoned for years.” Another laugh, a woman this time. Percy turned around to try and see, but his glasses were still dripping. He continued to the first corridor, “Must be my influenced imagination,” he said to himself. He tried opening the locked doors until he found an open one. "Finally!" The fire was set. He let down the back pack and took out everything that would need to dry, mainly clothes.

He barely looked at the bed, neatly made or took out any rations to eat. He sat at the desk with all his tools ready to fix his guns in case they had water inside too. Luckily Bad News didn’t have any, although that wasn’t the case with the pepper-box, so he started working on it silently.

“Need any help?” Percy stood and turned around, pointing Bad News at the source of the voice. A woman sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed and a hand resting behind her. She laughed. Pointy fangs on sight. “I don’t think that’s going to be of any use, dear.”

“Who are you?”

“Don’t worry, if I wanted to harm you, I would already have done so.”

“Who are you?”

She sighed and stood up too. Percy unlocked the safety catch and she lifted her arms. “My name is Vex, pleasure to meet you, Mr. Big Gun.” Percy didn't laugh with her.

“This is filled with silver bullets, just so you know.”

“Precious, I wouldn’t waste them if I were you.”

“I don’t believe you’re actually a vampire.”

“So, you’re a skeptical one. Well, I’m not here to convince you.”

“Then why?”

“Just to tell you you can stay here for as long as you want, but this is Keyleth’s room.”

That name was familiar, he heard it in the town, when the shop owner told him about the vampires. “That’s the girl you killed.”

Vex bursted a new laughter. “Believe me, killing her is not what my brother did with her.”

“She never went back to town.”

“That was her own decision to make.”

The door opened and both Percy and Vex looked at the girl. “Oh, uhm… hi.” That was the voice he had heard laughing climbing up the stairs. Her teeth didn’t show any signs of vampirism.

“Keyleth, dear, we have a visitor.”

“I see, uhm… I see you made yourself at home already,” she smiled, “Don’t bother to pick anything up, I can sleep in Vax’s room today, uh… What’s your name?”

Percy glanced at Vex side eye and lowered the gun. “Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III.”

“So…”

Vex walked towards the door and stood next to Keyleth. “Good night, Percy, if you need anything you can pull this cord here. My room is right next to this one, and the next one is my brother’s.”

Percy was pretty sure he didn’t imagine the wink Vex threw at him before disappearing with Keyleth.

#perc'ahlia #fanovember #the legend of vox machina #critical role #vox machina #cr1 #critical role fanfiction #critical role tlovm #critical role percy #percy de rolo #vexahlia #critical role vex #vex'ahlia #tlovm #percival de rolo #keyleth #critical role keyleth #keyleth of the air ashari

23 notes · View notes

indigosunsetao3 · 1 year ago

Text

Would It Be Enough?

Chapter 9 - Broken Ribs and Battered Pride

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Rated E - Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Original FMC 8.1k words - AO3 Link

Emma had barely slept two hours before her alarm had gone off and she had to literally roll out of bed to get up. She spent the hour after Soap had left her room going over everything that had happened between them, over and over. She was analyzing everything, blushing at a few of her reactions but mostly squeezing her thighs tight for some relief. She had thought about taking care of things herself to just calm her body down but in the back of her mind, she knew it would just key her up more. Emma had never been one that was one and done, she needed a few rounds before she was sated. So it was better to just try and ignore it and let her body relax on its own, even if that took some time.

Soap had not been lying that Ghost wasn’t going to take pity on her from lack of sleep, if anything he fed off her exhaustion. When she arrived at the gym she could see the smirk on Ghost’s face, even if it was covered by his mask, before he laid into her to start running. At one point he even reached over to up her speed when he deemed it too slow and laughed when Emma cussed at him, but didn’t try to lower it back. He didn’t give her a single break between running and lifting weights, barely giving her enough time to rest and stretch. When she left to go shower, he called after her about how they were going to be in the outdoor training building that afternoon and suggested she get a little more pep in her step. She didn’t even have the energy to flip him off when she swore she heard him chuckling to himself as he cleaned up their area.

She opted for a cold shower to wake herself up and to chase away some of the lingering thoughts of that early morning with Soap. They were creeping into her mind at the knowledge she was going to be seeing him shortly and she needed to keep things strictly professional for now. Especially since she was still a bit upset with him about the omission of him being ordered to the hospital, until after he got her all hot and bothered. Still, despite being a bit annoyed she took her time to make herself look presentable, maybe even a little extra work went into her hair that she blew out with the small travel air dryer she had. It took longer than she expected and she was hustling down the hall still pulling on her lab coat when she arrived at the hospital, her face still flush from the heat of the dryer.

“Morning,” Andrew greeted her as he handed her a stack of files. His eyes took in the fact her hair was not pulled back into a bun or braid and she had even applied a little more makeup than normal. “You do know this is work and I expect you to continue your job and not fawn over just the annoying sergeant in room three,” he instructed. He had obviously picked up on the fact that she was dressed differently had something to do with Soap being there.

“I know how to do my job,” Emma answered as she snatched the files from him and tucked some errant hair behind her ear. “Have you received an update on Alex Keller? Do you know when he will be moved here?” She wasn’t even going to ask about Soap, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, even if his chart was on the top of the paperwork she held in her hands.

“Price wanted you to review and make the call,” Andrew answered, his voice a bit agitated that Price wasn’t allowing him to do that. He was the more senior doctor in the hospital and he didn’t appreciate a PA being the one making the decision.

“Right, well I better get started then,” Emma answered him and pulled Alex’s chart out from the middle of her stack and headed to the back to review. His injury had been bad, the bullet had lodged itself in his lower right quadrant right by the pelvis bone. He had been lucky it didn’t hit and shatter the bone, the damage was brutal enough without that. He had needed multiple bags of blood and two surgeries to remove the bullet fragments and to repair everything, but he was stable now. She flipped through and reviewed the medication he was on and any suggestions from the tending doctors. He was out of the woods for survival and more surgeries, he was just laid up in room out of the ICU already faring better than they initially suspected when he was brought in five days ago. Emma noted in the back of her mind that his injury must have happened on day four of their mission, just information to store for later. She was determined to piece things together if they weren’t going to tell her everything.

Deciding that the hospital here could handle recovery and making sure Alex didn’t get any infections she was going to bring him back. She knew the team would be antsy to see him and she was certain he didn’t want to lay up in the hospital alone. It took a while to get patched through to everyone and speak with his care team. They said arrangements would take a few hours but they’d let her, or Price, know when everything was finalized and they could expect Alex to be there. She asked to speak with Alex but they stated he had been sleeping and she opted to not wake him up. She could always call back later or hopefully see him soon.

Andrew had popped in a few times to see she was still going over paperwork and she smirked to herself knowing he was checking to see if she was too busy ‘fawning’ over Soap. She wanted to go in there and see Soap, she could feel the anticipation in her bones to see him again. But there was also a gnawing shyness that was starting to creep in, her self-doubt eating at her. That maybe he was just tired and wanted to get laid the night before, that he didn’t actually want her she was just a fun distraction. Or what if he regretted what happened between them and would pretend it never happened? She almost thought that regret would be worse than being used. But she stopped herself and put her hands down on the desk to take a calming breath. She knew the voice of doubt was a lie and she needed to stop being awkward about it and go over his chart then go see him.

Tucking away the other charts Emma pulled out Soap’s and flipped it open to review everything in there. He hadn’t told them everything, stating classified to most questions, but what he did tell was that there had been an explosion and he had been blown into a concrete barrier. That explained why it looked like he had been hit by a car, the impact would have been exactly the same if not worse. He had multiple broken ribs, torn cartilage, bruised diaphragm, and multiple contusions some of them deep bone bruises. How he had walked into her room, let alone let her climb all over him last night she didn’t know. His pain must have been off the charts but he barely let on, only behaving as if he had strained himself in a particularly rough game of football.

Emma flipped through the scans and tests they had done, pulling up his X-rays on the computer to look them over before standing up to finally go see him. Everything the hospital had done in Sweden and here was exactly what she would have done and she was satisfied with it. His recovery was just going to be resting, pain management, and a few weeks rehabilitation. She was going to have her work cut out for her between getting both Soap and Alex back on their feet, but it felt good to actually be contributing to the team now even if it was for a shitty situation.

She was down the hall from room three when she heard Soap’s laugh first, that had to be a good sign that he was laughing. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair, then checked to make sure Andrew wasn’t lurking around staring at her and accuse her of fawning. He was luckily nowhere to be found and she went up to the cracked open door and knocked to announce her presence. What she found inside was a relief, even though just the sight of Soap gave her butterflies.

Soap was sitting up in bed, the medical gown that opened in the front was undone to reveal his ribs were wrapped tightly in white and it covered most of his chest and stomach. He had a blanket around his waist and was currently shoveling a spoonful of pudding into his mouth, laughing around the bite at something Maricela had just said. The nurse was checking his vitals and noting them on her clipboard before moving to check the IV drip that was about halfway done.

“Afternoon Emma,” Maricela said with a grin as she turned around to greet Emma who was still lingering in the doorway watching the scene. The woman continued to write as she spoke, “your patient is alert, stable, and a fiend for pudding,” she explained before gesturing to the side table at Soap’s bedside.

Sure enough, there were six empty pudding cups scattered there, some tipped on their sides, others stacked neatly on top of one another. All of them were clean, some of them looking like Soap had practically licked them clean, and Emma cut her eyes to Soap who was polishing off another one. He grinned widely at her before he set the finished cup down with the rest of his conquests.

“Pudding is the only suitable thing to eat when you’re in hospital,” Soap answered with a small shrug before licking the spoon clean and depositing it with the rest of the trash. He smirked at Emma when he spotted her eyes flare at his gesture, which only caused her to blush furiously. “And I’m starved,” he tacked on before looking at Maricela who merely rolled her eyes back at him.

“You need real food,” Maricela stated as she moved to grab all of his mess and swept them into the trash. “Especially with these steroids you’re on. They are going to make you feel like you’re starving and if you just live off pudding you’re going to lose your girlish figure,” she teased before moving to leave the room, trash in one hand and her notes in the other which she handed off to Emma. “I’ll be back in a bit with a real meal and your next round of medication.” Maricela gave Emma a knowing smirk before leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

Alone in the room, Emma cleared her throat doing her best to remain professional, her eyes sliding over all of Maricela’s meticulous notes. Soap was due for more pain medication in two hours and his steroid drip still had a while to go. His vitals had remained stable and no complaints from him or Maricela about his current condition, all in all, he was in great shape for his condition.

“Am I going to live doc?” Soap asked after a moment, his eyes locked on Emma as she stared at his information. “Price told me I had no other choice and I don’t want to defy his orders,” he tacked on waiting for Emma to answer. He could tell Emma wasn’t sure what to do with herself, she was feeling slightly awkward but also trying to do her job. He could keep it light, for now. He’d let her get a little more comfortable with the situation and make sure she was okay with that happened between them before he forged ahead. The day after could always be a little awkward trying to feel one another out but Soap was all in.

“You’ll live,” Emma answered finally, her eyes flicking up to look at him. Even mostly covered, seeing him lying in the bed like that had filthy thoughts running through her mind. She shook her head slightly to try and shake them, she had a job to do those thoughts could wait. “I want to look at your wrapping though,” she stated moving over to the left side of the bed, “make sure they are tight enough.”

“They better be tight enough, I feel like I can barely breathe around them,” Soap answered before shifting in the bed to sit up a bit. The pain meds had dulled the shooting pains but he still grunted at the effort. “If you do them any tighter, I’ll suffocate,” he groused as Emma’s hands came around to help him lean forward a bit. Her fingers were icy as they moved his hospital gown off his shoulder and helped him slide the arm out, he felt the goosebumps flare up along his arm and side as she had him lay back again and extend his arm up above his head.

“That’s the point,” Emma answered him, “not the suffocating part. You need the compression to let the ribs set properly and help with the swelling.” She felt around the wrappings on his side, her fingers sliding around the back and slipping up under the material to tug at an uninjured part to see how snug they were. “They did a good job,” Emma mused as her fingers slid back out again and she noticed the goosebumps all over his skin and his eyes staring at her as she worked.

“Did you expect anything less?” Soap asked her, his eyes taking in her face and realizing she had put on makeup. He noticed she did wear makeup to work but this was different, it seemed like she put more on and even had lipstick on. He smiled to himself as he also noted her hair was down and loose around her face, just how he liked it. “I know you like to do everything yourself but I’m sure tending to broken ribs is not that hard. You have to trust others they can do their jobs,” he stated as he bent the elbow that was above his head so his forearm was resting atop his head.

“You’re one to talk,” Emma answered him, “the day you let anyone do something for you without checking behind them I’ll get your head checked.” She had seen how Soap was during their training sessions, intel briefings, and even gear checks. He did everything himself, even if it was done for him, double-checking all work and cross-checking intelligence to be sure it was right.

“My job’s a bit more dangerous,” Soap argued, “someone messes up and I could end up dead, or someone on the team. Someone messes up wrapping my ribs I just hurt for a bit longer.” He grinned as Emma rolled her eyes at him. “Have you heard about Alex?” His face turned a bit more serious. Alex’s injury was due to a mistake and Soap had been beating himself up to figure out what he had missed that allowed them all to walk into the ambush. Sure, they had all missed it but he still held himself responsible nonetheless.

“I did,” Emma said as she moved to sit on the edge of his bed, one arm braced behind her so she could lean back a bit. “I’m having him moved here, the doctors in Sweden are surprised at how fast he’s progressed. No more surgeries are needed and he’s stable. I can manage the rest of his treatment at this place,” she answered. “I’ll have my hands full with the two of you,” she smirked, “rehabilitation is not going to be fun for either of you. Price wants you all back as soon as you are eligible. He doesn’t want to have to run the team short.” She had seen the note in Soap’s file in the Captain’s scribble. He wanted them healthy, not back before they could handle the work, but the earlier she could manage it the better.

“Mmm,” Soap replied, “I don’t think it’s just Price that wants me healthy as soon as possible.” His voice was teasing and he raised an eyebrow waiting for Emma to answer him, to play with him. He saw the blush creeping up her neck and how she adverted her eyes, embarrassed it seemed, but he wasn’t having that. “Look at me,” Soap gently ordered, and he gave her a second to collect herself but she still didn’t look at him, “Emma,” he added, his tone still an order.

Emma bit her lip for a second before meeting his eyes, feeling as if she were going to burn from the inside out from embarrassment. The night before had been nothing short of amazing but she was feeling extremely shy about the way she acted, how she had been practically begging him to take her. How she must have ignored all his tells about how much pain he had been in because she was so lustful her brain didn’t care. Looking at his face now she felt like she wanted to just run out the door, she had never behaved that way with anyone. None of her exes had ever garnered that type of response out of her and she and Soap had barely done anything.

“Don’t you dare get shy with me now,” Soap said as the hand that was resting above his head reached out to her and gently grabbed her chin. “Last night was...fuck,” he chuckled a bit looking around the room to find the right word, “it was fucking hot Emma. You think I’m even a little embarrassed about it?” His voice was low, and gravelly as he waited for her response, his eyes darting back and forth searching her face.

“No, I don’t think you are,” Emma answered truthfully, feeling her heartbeat pick up as he gently turned her face toward him. He seemed to enjoy exerting a little power over her, gently pushing her to do what he wanted and Emma honestly enjoyed it as well. How his hand enveloped her face and forced her to look at him like he had done multiple times before. She also liked how his presence in general dominated the space without trying, how he knew what to do and say to get her to react even outside of sexual tension between them. She was sure it was his military training that gave him that domineering attitude but there was also something else there that pulled her to him. “But I practically threw myself at you,” she barely whispered before cinching her eyes shut, “and you must have been hurting, I should have seen.”

Soap hesitated for a moment as he looked at her, watched her shut her eyes again which shut him back out and he didn’t like that. “Lass,” he said gently and ran his thumb over her chin, rubbing it back and forth to get her attention and to look at him. She finally opened her eyes and stared into his which sent a jolt straight down him. Having her look at him like he was the only thing that mattered at the moment was intoxicating. “I’m certain I was the one who was throwing themselves at you,” he explained, “I could have come right here like I was ordered but I didn’t. I lingered outside your door for a solid five minutes before I decided to knock and wake you up. It was selfish but I couldn’t wait to see you and I was hoping you felt the same. Then I was the one who stayed and kept you up, ran my hands all over you until we were both panting,” he grinned, “then I left you to wallow because I knew I couldn’t hold myself back much longer, pain or no.”

He debated continuing but decided if she was going to be sitting there embarrassed, he was going to lay it all out there to ease some of her tension. “I didn’t come right here like I said I would either. I had to take care of myself in the shower like a fifteen-year-old lad thanks to you, there was no way I could show up here so turned on I could barely walk.” He wasn’t ashamed and to be honest he thought she may enjoy the fact that he had to get himself off thinking about her. He knew he would want to know if she had touched herself at the thought of him. Fuck, just even that fleeting thought Soap felt himself twitch.

Emma blinked at the last sentence before huffing lightly through her nose, “in the shower?” She inquired, her mind creating all sorts of scenarios in her head. What he must have looked like under the water, one hand braced on the wall as he fisted himself with his eyes shut thinking about her. If he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning aloud so no one would hear. How long did it take him until he came?

“Not long,” Soap answered her unasked question, his voice dropping an octave as he watched her puzzling out the information he had told her. “I just needed something to take the edge off so I made it quick. It worked for a little bit, but just seeing you again has my mind running through all the filthy things I want to do to you.” His thumb that had rubbed gently on her chin moved to graze over her lower lip, her mouth had opened slightly at either surprise, or lust, at his boldness. The lipstick on her lips was a dark and pretty pink that he smeared on his thumb, his eyes watching her lips and the way her breathing had hitched a bit. “You like the idea of that don’t you?” He asked, already knowing the answer. “That I can’t stop thinking about all the ways I’m going to make you come? And how I’ve thought about you to get myself off at night?” He grinned, he could keep going but she was already starting to squirm a bit.

Emma shifted her legs on the bed a bit, her treacherous body giving her away as she squeezed her thighs slightly. “Yes,” she answered before she dared to bite down lightly on the thumb that was teasing her mouth, her bottom teeth scraping the pad of it slowly. It was Soap’s turn to hiss a breath out as she teased him back, his eyes fully locked on her mouth as her teeth applied pressure. Despite walking in feeling embarrassed, in the moment like this Emma was all in with him. He made it easy for her to give into that carnal side and act on all those thoughts that raced through her mind. She could deal with the consequences of her shy emotions later because it was too sexy to not play along with him.

“I was awake for another hour after you left,” she continued to confess as his thumb remained on her lips as if asking her to bite him again but Emma kept talking instead. “But I couldn’t take care of myself like you. That doesn’t work for me,” she explained and she saw his chest rise a little faster and heard the machines monitoring his heart rate beep more rapidly. “One and done doesn’t settle me, I need at least a few times before I can relax, just one will amp me up more. And since I had to be up training with Ghost I didn’t have the time,” she smirked as Soap’s other hand moved under the blankets to adjust himself quickly. “I just thought you should know that since you are planning what you’re going to do to me once you’re better.” She grinned and moved her hand that had been braced behind her to rest on his thigh, painfully close to where she knew he was growing hard.

“Careful what you confess to me Lass,” Soap responded, “because I will hold you to that. When you’re begging me to finish because you’re exhausted, I’m going to keep going until you can’t move from exertion.” He dared to push his thumb pad into her mouth and Emma met his move with a soft suck and swirl of her tongue before he pulled back. His heart rate monitor was going crazy at this point and he itched to pull it off to silence it and not ruin the moment. He was going to need another shower or an ice bath that Maricela had threatened him with when he got there the night before. Woman was too smart for her own good.

“I hope that’s a promise,” Emma answered him before pushing up off the bed, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall. She knew Andrew was going to be looking for her if she was gone too long and he’d love nothing more than to catch her doing something she shouldn’t. “I’ll come by and see you later,” she explained as Soap also looked at the clock and then back at her to see why she was suddenly retreating from him. “You should try and get some rest,” she threw the same words in his face that he had used on her the night before, smiling coyly. “Sleep is the best medicine for recovery, the more you sleep the faster you’ll heal.”

Soap knew what she was doing, the tease, but he deserved it. He reached out his arm and grabbed her wrist before she could get out of range though and tugged her back a bit hard. She stumbled into the bed before catching herself and he pulled her down to kiss her soundly, his teeth grazing her bottom lip before letting her go. “Good luck with your training today,” he murmured giving her a knowing smirk, “don’t let Ghost bully you too hard.” And with that he let her go, resting his arm back down at his side and watching his heart rate monitor slow down once again as she left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emma had met Gaz outside of her room after she had changed into her full tactical gear, it was heavy and bulky and she wasn’t even loaded down with weapons yet. She knew this day had been coming when she would be out in one of the training houses for real-life scenarios. But why did it have to be the day she was running on no sleep? She had a scarf around her neck to help with the dust but she hadn’t pulled her helmet on just yet as they stood outside of the building, which was more like a warehouse, getting instructions from Price.

The premise was simple enough, Emma had to stay hidden and get through the building without being picked off by Ghost, Gaz, or Crane. They were having her run through it without weapons to get used to moving in her gear. Then she would be working in teams of two with each man to figure out how everyone operated while avoiding the rest of the team. Emma had a feeling Ghost was not going to be pleased if they were picked off while they were working together so she would need to pick up working with him quickly.

“I’ll be upstairs in the monitor room watching,” Price said as he looked at the three men in the group, who were in fact loaded down with all their guns and gear. Maybe that would give her some sort of advantage but she doubted it. They looked intimidating as hell standing there fully outfitted. She had seen them fully suited up before a few times but it was different knowing they were coming after her to catch her, not to help her. The thought alone of these men stalking her, even if they were teammates and this was training, was enough to make Emma start getting a cold sweat on her back.

“You have ten minutes to get out, or until one of them catches you, whichever comes first. If you run out of time or are caught, we start over. We aren’t leaving here until you’ve made it to the second floor or more so I suggest you adapt quickly.” Price said though there was a smirk on his lips, Emma had a feeling he knew it was going to be a long day. “No comms today but I’ll call out over the speaker to start the run, time checks and if you make it or fail,” he stated looking right at Emma. “If you fail everyone resets outside the door. You get a forty-five-second head start.” Emma nodded her understanding as did the other three men.

Price turned around and went into the building before Emma turned around and looked up at the three men standing there, all of them looking down at her. “How screwed am I?” Emma asked no one in particular as she used the scarf around her neck to wipe at her forehead before pulling her helmet on and securing it. She could feel the nerves getting to her as she flexed and curled her fingers waiting for Price’s signal to start.

“Well, considering Ghost is his nickname,” Crane stated with a smirk looking over at Ghost who was currently looking at Emma like she was a snack, and not the fun sexy way Soap did. “I would say we’re going to be here a while.” His hand was resting on the butt of his gun and he rolled his neck a bit. The guns the men had were their real ones but they had a yellow cap over the muzzles and were not loaded, not even with blanks. Price stated they weren’t there yet and this wasn’t a shooting exercise but a catching one. Emma wondered if this all felt childish to them since they had been running these drills for years. Why couldn’t Price have given them some sort of challenge? Like they had to do it one-handed, or could only crawl or something to give her at least some sort of chance and make it hard for them. Her only saving grace was they weren’t allowed to talk to one another or work as a team to flank her, they had to catch her on their own.

“You’re going to psych her out before we even start,” Gaz admonished but then added, “he’s right though,” and grinned at Emma who just groaned. “Just learn from it, you’d rather it be us catching you now than someone else out there.”

Ghost still hadn’t said anything and Emma looked at him for a moment longer when Price’s voice came over the intercom. “Your time starts in three,” Emma turned to face the door, “two” she grabbed the handle and twisted it, “one.” And she yanked the door open and darted inside, the metal door clanking shut behind her with a bang.

It took Emma’s eyes a second to get accustomed to the dark after standing out in the bright desert sunlight. The room inside was significantly darker even with lights, the scenario was obviously an evening situation. It was set up to look like a street inside with fake houses lining the area, complete with mailboxes and broken-down street lamps. She could see in the distance what looked to be the fake town hall that she needed to get to and climb the stairs to the next floor. The second floor, which was really the third story since they had to make room for the fake town, Price had told her was more of the usual training she had seen. It had walls and crates to duck behind, things to maneuver, and moving targets for shooting practice. At the end of the second floor was a ladder that she had to climb straight up to the rooftop which is where she needed to get to finish.

“You’ve lost ten seconds,” Price called over the intercom and Emma jumped and began to run. She knew running right to the fake town hall to get to the second floor was useless, it was all the way across and she had streets to wind around. She needed to get somewhere to hide and move quietly, but she also didn’t want to be right by the door. There was a fake general store that looked promising if it had some sort of shelving to hide in. She made a beeline for that, tripping up over her booted feet, not used to running in them yet, but kept her balance as she went. She was already sweating up a storm and could feel it running down the back of her neck as she walked into the door, cursing the jingle of the stupid bell, she hadn’t accounted for that. They’d know when she left it now.

“Teams entering,” Price called out and Emma frantically crouched down and looked for a way out of the store that didn’t involve the front door. In the not as much distance as she would have liked she heard the door clang shut.

“Shit,” she whispered to herself before scurrying to the back to see if she could get out a backdoor and didn’t find one. Only a window. So her options were the jingling door or a window she’d have to heft herself up into and hope there wasn’t anything outside blocking her way. Using the upper body strength she gained over the past few weeks Emma heaved herself up on shaking arms to the window that she had knocked open. She slid one leg through before the other and then dropped down to the ground outside. She wiped her hands on her pants, looking up at the window she had just tumbled out of, proud of herself to just be able to do that before she felt the telltale feel of a muzzle in her back.

“Bang,” Gaz said with a small laugh and Emma hung her head. “I didn’t even make it two minutes!” She exclaimed before Price came over the intercom to tell her she made it a whopping minute and thirty-seven seconds. “You couldn’t have let me at least enjoy my victory of getting out of that window for a few more seconds?” She asked Gaz as the lights all flipped on and they walked back toward the exit.

“I let you get your footing at least, I could have called the shot while you were still trying to wiggle out.” He waggled his eyebrows at her before Emma nudged him and they were all back outside the door again waiting for Price to reset. Ghost was merely watching her again and Emma huffed before turning around to face the door, determined to run further in this time.

When Price called for her to go Emma ripped the door open and ran, flat out, to try and get as far into the place as possible. She thought if she could get deeper in there would be more hiding places and more for the three men to have to check before they found her. A good head start gave her more chances to sneak around. When she heard Price call out the team was entering, she dove into a fake house and moved through it, keeping low to the ground as she went. She stuck to the shadows that the dim lights were giving off and she managed to sneak down a second street and could see the town hall in the distance. She had a good head start on them, if she just kept making a beeline for that she could maybe just stay a few steps ahead.

She ducked into another house, went out the makeshift backdoor to the fake backyard, and hopped the low-lying fence. Emma did her best to keep the town hall within eyesight the whole time, not wanting to get turned around. She slipped into the back door of what seemed to be the mimic of a church and was just about to go out the large front doors when a hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat and pulled her tight against their body. The hand was tight on her throat, squeezing her airway as if they truly meant to suffocate her before letting go and sliding their arm around her to put her in a headlock. Her once free left hand was twisted up behind her back and in a vice grip of their gloved hand. She knew who it was without even seeing him after all the hand-to-hand training they had.

“Fuck,” Emma hissed as she resigned the fact she had been caught and was waiting for Price to call it. But the call didn’t come and Ghost’s arm around her neck tightened a bit which caused Emma to widen her eyes in a panic. She had a feeling Price was watching to see what she did, to see if she could get out of it since he had never been to their training to watch before.

Instinctively Emma threw her elbow of her right arm back like Ghost had taught her and attempted to slip her leg behind his to pull him down by the knee with her foot. He sidestepped the attempt and Emma whined a bit, without meaning to, as she threw her head back in a headbutt but he was too tall for that so her helmet merely hit his chest. He continued to hold her there like she weighed nothing, his arm getting too tight as he lifted her body off the ground a bit and Emma felt herself getting lightheaded. She attempted to stomp on his foot but even though she was in boots he was as well so that did nothing. Finally, she raised her arm up and tapped frantically on his forearm, falling forward a bit and grabbing her throat when Ghost finally released her.

“When the enemy knows where your goal is, don’t go right to that goal,” Ghost said simply before he walked away to go back to the start. He didn’t look back at her as Emma massaged her throat, bent over at the knees, and coughed a bit before she followed suit. Gaz and Crane joined them from where they had been searching and they all walked outside of the building together to reset for round three, no one saying a word.

And so it went, over and over. Emma had lost count of how many times they had run the course and how many times each of them had caught her. She preferred when it was Crane or Gaz because they didn’t attempt to manhandle her, except for the time Crane dragged her out by her foot from under a bed as she attempted to scramble away. Ghost always grabbed her from the shadows where he lurked, never once raising his gun and instead opting to use his body to restrain her. And each time Price let it go on until Emma eventually tapped out.

No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t break out of Ghost’s holds, her gear impeded her at every attempt. It was frustrating and wearing down the confidence she had been building on in her training. Her muscles and joints were becoming stiff from the effort, her throat raw from where he had grabbed her so many times. She had a feeling he could sense her panic when his hand closed around her throat so he continued to use that move to get her to succumb.

By the time Price finally called it a day, the sun had set long ago, Emma had managed to get to the town hall but never made it to the stairs. At the start of the session, he had stated she had to make it to the second floor but she had a feeling he could tell she was too frustrated to even think straight. Her runs were getting sloppier and she was getting picked off too quickly and regressing. At one point she had just shut herself in a makeshift closet and waited until the ten minutes were up just so she could have a rest. Price had yelled at her over the speaker to get moving but she ignored him as she tried to calm her nerves down and just breathe for a moment.

Emma didn’t bother waiting for the rest of the group as she stomped away, tearing the scarf from around her neck, unclipping her helmet, and ripped it off her head. She was mad at herself, frustrated at how bad she had been at it, agitated with Price just letting Ghost do whatever the hell he wanted in there, and mostly just tired. She stormed off to dinner, opting to eat first then shower because she didn’t even want to eat with them. Her temper was too high to even go get changed as she sat in her tactical gear and scarfed down some food. By the time she finished the guys were walking in, Gaz opened his mouth to say something, but she brushed past all of them and went right to shower. She spent a good while under the hot water, savoring it and the silence in the room as she rinsed off the shitty day. She needed sleep but she had told Soap she would stop by and despite wanting nothing more than to crawl between the sheets of her bed she did want to see him even if it was for only five minutes.

“I’m guessing it was rough,” Soap said from his hospital bed when Emma walked in, her hair still damp and her eyes looking weary. He had already heard from Gaz who stopped by to tell him everything, quickly of course since Gaz knew Emma was roiling mad and the last thing he wanted was her to see him in here giving Soap a full rundown of the day.

“You could say that,” she huffed as she walked over to the bed and took a seat on the edge. Her body ached from tiredness and she was tempted to just curl up next to him on the bed and go to sleep right there. “I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t make it through the first level of that stupid course,” Emma said, all the frustration of the day pouring out. “If I wasn’t too slow, I was moving too fast, or I gave myself away from picking the obvious choice, or picking the road less traveled. At one point I just gave up and sat in a closet for my time because I was just so over all of it. I couldn’t do anything right and I’m pretty sure Ghost is trying to kill me,” she rambled on, her hand absentmindedly running up to hold her own throat, there were fresh bruises there, she had seen them when she had brushed out her hair. “He preferred to try and suffocate me versus using his guns like Crane and Gaz.”

Soap listened quietly, his hand moving to grab the one resting in her lap and he ran his thumb over her knuckles softly. “I know you don’t want to hear this,” he said when she was quiet for a moment, “but it’s not meant to be easy. You need to make all your mistakes in there so you don’t make them out in the field.” He ducked his head to get into her eyesight and locked eyes with her when she finally flicked her downcast gaze to him. “I know it’s frustrating, I wish I was there to help you but I think you’d be just as mad at me as you are with the rest of them right now.” He grimaced slightly at her face knowing he had just given away the guys had told him what happened. “Gaz stopped by and said your mood was a bit…murderous.”

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t so bad,” Emma answered though she wasn’t happy with him either. “He at least only called me out when he caught me. Crane dragged me out from under a bed by my foot and Ghost at one point had me pinned over a desk.” She huffed but caught the look Soap gave her at the comment about the desk. “Don’t, just...don’t," Emma pleaded softly. She knew how it sounded to say another man pinned her against a desk but it was the truth, one of the many things Ghost had done to her that day. It wasn’t nearly as sexy as it sounded to say someone pinned you when that someone had you pinned by your head and shoulders against a hard surface while you struggled and nearly cried. “He’s ruthless,” she said after a moment, “he kept catching me and I could never break out. I always had to tap out and Price just sat there waiting for me to. He always called it the moment Gaz and Crane caught me, but he just waited when it was Ghost.”

Soap sighed, his hand moving to brush some of the hair off her shoulder catching sight of the fresh bruises there, mixed in with the mark he himself had left the night before. “He’s ruthless because the enemy would be ruthless out there,” Soap tried, though he knew he wasn’t saying what she wanted and she was already upset. Tack on the fact that she was exhausted he knew she didn’t want any type of logic and only sympathy. He couldn’t give her just sympathy right now though because he knew tomorrow she would be right back in it and he wanted her to know the actual truth. “Ghost isn’t trying to hurt you; he’s trying to make you better, stronger. He seems detached but that’s just, well that’s how he is. He’s not me or any of the other guys, he does things his way. You aren’t the only one he’s pissed off and hurt with his tactics, but they work.”

Emma sighed and leaned back on the bed and moved to get up. She needed to go to bed, she had another long day ahead of her tomorrow and she was tempted to just skip out on her morning training with the state of her mind at the moment. She knew she couldn’t though and she’d regret it if she did but right now, she wanted to just not see Ghost again for a few days and hide in her room. “I need to sleep,” she said and could feel Soap tense a bit at the dismissal. “I’m exhausted and if I don’t go to bed right now I’ll just end up sleeping here which would keep both of us up anyway and Andrew would have a field day,” she stood up and stretched her arms high above her head for a moment before coming back down. “I’ll look over your charts in the morning when I get in and hopefully we can discharge you from staying overnight again,” she smiled down at him before leaning down to kiss him gently once, twice, three times. The pull for her to stay was evident from both of them but she truly needed a good night's sleep.

Soap knew she needed to be alone but he couldn’t lie to himself that her quick visit hadn’t stung a bit. He had been in here alone all day and was looking at a whole night alone again. Mostly though he wanted to be out of here so he could be with her, even if it was sitting on the couch while she slept or just knowing she was a room away and she could come to him any time or he to her. “I understand,” he replied and he meant it, he knew the state of mind she was in and he also wanted to be alone when that happened to him. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he returned her kisses, his hand moving to cup her cheek and sneak in one more before she stood up again and left him in the room.

#fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my fic #call of duty #cod #soap fanfic #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x oc #would it be enough?

9 notes · View notes

awsugar · 4 years ago

Note

okay but rank frank’s hair through the years bestie

i’m taking this so seriously. maybe too seriously. 2007 long hair 2010 long hair 2013 long hair 2015 long hair 2017 long hair and 2020 long hair are all DIFFERENT ok. trust me. i’ll be ranking them in terms of how much i like them but i could alternatively also rank them in terms of stupidity...that’s a post for another time.

without further ado: mack’s definitive ranking of frank’s hair. this is long as fuck. you’ve been warned.

ok i know i said long hair is different and it IS but for my own sanity i have decided not to rank EVERY time frank’s hair has been some level of short and brown. only the ones that stand out to me.

32. short yellow dreads. what even was this. doesn’t even have the our sweet baby charm. dead last.

31. dreads. objectively also the worst. there’s something sweet about him in that era like our sweet baby is not to be underestimated but for ranking purposes it is the worst.

30. hiatus hair. wasn’t a fan of this at all. can’t pinpoint why.

29. 2008 hair. this is like non-hair. try harder.

28. 2013 long hair. many of you know that long hair frank is truly my beloved. but this just didn’t do it for me.

27. current hair. god has left the building. but i think he can bring it back.

26. late 2014 hair. not long or short enough. make up your mind.

25. turtle hair. both because this is from the snippy video and because he looks a little bit like a turtle. now don’t me wrong he was FIIIINE in this era but it was 0 to do with the hair and 100% to do with the beef.

24. basic tbp hair. nothing wrong with it but nothing great about it either. it just exists.

23. medium length revenge hair.

22. head tattoo hair. this was a heinous crime.

who did this to him

21. shrine hair. not as severe as head tattoo hair. he looked great from the front!

but from the side? questionable

20. 2014 long on top. this is where we switch over from hair i dislike or am indifferent about, to hair i like.

19. buzzcut/really short. this covers both bullets and dd. what can i say he’s pretty and he can pull it off

(edit by @cocaineandtoupees)

18. 2015 long hair. it’s like. yes you are beautiful and breathtaking. but also you remind me of an oompa loompa why is it sticking straight up like that.

17. early 2016 hair. like this is just some man but fuck if he isn’t pretty.

16. red hawk. iconic yes but it doesn’t hit as hard as its blonde counterpart.

15. shaggy 2015 long hair. it’s different to the oompa loompa. this is what i call puppy hair.

14. australia 2016 hair. i can’t find a proper photo that does it justice but check out these gifs by @iero. legendary and spectacular.

13. leathermouth dean winchester. there are like 4 pics of this and i wish there were more.

12. 2010 long hair with the blonde streak in the back. top points for combining long hair and peak stupidity. i would love to know what inspired this.

11. regular revenge hair with the devilock tucked to the side. SO stupid. as far as haircuts go. i’m obsessed.

10. 2021 reverse revenge hair. we’re in the home stretch now. don’t know what’s going on here king but keep up the good work the bisexuals are losing their minds.

9. barriers hair. as far as frank’s many forays into short brown hair this is pretty much peak.

8. 2007 long hair. what else is there to say. my love.

7. fuzzy blonde hawk. when it started to grow out...that’s it own haircut.

6. 2017 long hair. this did so much for us as a society. this pic exists somewhere without the watermark but oh my god. this gives me symptoms.

5. faux hawk with streaks. reminds me of those black and brown cats. just pretty. i promise you this is not the same as orange faux hawk. i promise.

4. orange faux hawk. speak of the devil. i don’t know why i love this so much but it’s the best. was the color intentional? was it not? we’ll never know.

3. long blonde. are you surprised to see this up so high? this photo changed the trajectory of my life. i was skeptical when he first debuted it in those pizza photos with a hat on but this?? incredible.

2. blonde hawk. ESPECIALLY with the freshly shaved/dyed sides. probably the most iconic look of all time and VERY close to being my number one favorite.

and drumrolllll.......

1. i’m not okay hair. yes this gets it’s very own. it’s incredible. never been done before never to be done again.

literally exquisite. if you made it through this whole thing congrats. now it’s possible that you’re just as unwell as i am.

#Anonymous #frank iero

406 notes · View notes

whenimaunicorn · 4 years ago

Text

Playing House - Part 13.1

Summary: Ivar clarifies your role, and Hvitserk reaps all the benefits. Words: 2588 Notes: Content Warnings for bondage (possibly uncomfortable), BDSM humiliation and dirty talk, orgasm control, roleplayed dub/noncon (now that the relationships are established I’m going to remind you less often that they’ve already negotiated consent and safety measures).

Previous posts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

(Fic begins below the cut because it starts off with a bang, baby)

In your current predicament, the world has narrowed down to two things. The vulnerability of your body, and the total neediness of your cunt.

The two are most certainly related. Ivar is not one to make idle threats. When he told you over the phone that he believed you deserved punishment . . . it seems that he had immediately started making plans.

You’re alone, now, helpless on your own bed. Of course, it’s Hvitserk’s bed, this week. Ivar has bound your wrists to your ankles, and pointed you with your spread legs aimed right at the door. The open door.

What a sight Hvitserk is going to see when he walks in.

“You know you deserve this,” Ivar had said, trussing you up with methodical fingers. The way that he took your clothes from you, you’re not sure you’re going to get them back until Hvitserk’s no longer in town. “You had freedom, and you wasted it. Now you have to understand that you are here for our pleasure. Not the other way around. This pussy,” he said, giving it a sudden rub followed by a quick slap, “is here for our use. So . . . I’m not letting you use anything else for a little while.”

Your hands are tied to the insides of your ankles. You can try closing your legs, but your thighs won’t come quite back together with your arms bound right there in the way. Lying on your back as you are, the slit of your swollen pussy lips would still be visible between your raised legs to anyone standing in the doorway anyway. So why bother.

He had assured you that he would make sure Hvitserk “stumbled in” fairly soon, before you got too stiff in this humiliating pose. But you’re sure he’s going to stretch out the suspense as long as he thinks you can handle it.

You rock your body anyway, fruitlessly seeking just a little relief. After opening you up, Ivar had carefully applied a liberal helping of lube all over your pussy, inside and out. “I want you wet and ready for him.” A bullet vibrator came next, positioned carefully on top of your clit by a small shibari harness wrapped around your upper thighs and waist. “I am not turning this up high enough to make you come,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You are not to come until your punishment is over. This is here merely to keep you focused.”

And fuck, are you focused. You’re cursing yourself for allowing Ivar to learn your body so well, to know just exactly how high he can turn up the vibration without pushing you over the edge. And the pattern, fuck, that pulsing, wavelike rrrm, Rrrm, RRRM is damned hypnotic. You can’t possibly ignore it. And yet you want to sob every time the wave crests too soon, the intensity dropping well before the tension building between your thighs has anywhere to go.

An even more powerful thrill rushes through your body as you hear movement at the door. Lifting your head from the mattress, you see Hvitserk’s eyes widen, his steps arrested on his way into the room. He does a doubletake before his brain can fully process the obscenity he’s truly seeing in front of him. He glances back down the hallway, then slides inside and shuts the door with a shark’s smile spreading across his face.

“You seem to be kind of stuck, Y/N.” His eyes roam over the backs of your thighs, and what’s on display in between. There’s no way not to feel completely, horribly exposed to him. It’s so hot you’re probably about to start dripping all over the sheets. “Can I help you?”

You look him right in the eyes. “I need to be fucked.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, settling down on his knees beside the bed, definitely not lining up to drive himself into you like you so desperately need.

“Yeah.” You nod, quickly. “I need it bad.”

You arc and whine when Hviterk’s fingers slide around your opening, gliding between your outer and inner lips. “You’re wet enough for me to believe you.” The pads of his fingers dip inside, but only shallowly, stretching the rim of your opening in a wide swirl.

“Fuck,” you sob. That’s a lot of entirely unsatisfying stimulation right there. You need to feel filled up, not stretched out. “Please, Hvitserk. I’m here for your use, so use me, fuck me, put me out of my misery.” You have crane your neck to make eye contact with him, looking down the line of your body and between your own legs.

His eyes are dark as he stares at your naked and readied body, which shudders with the strength of your need. His eyes flit up to the ropes that bind each ankle to a wrist. “Ivar did this?”

“Yes.”

His fingers slide along the thinner cord tying the vibrator down onto your clit.

“He said it’s my lesson. I need you to fuck me until I learn.” Having to explain this to Hvitserk somehow makes your predicament all the hotter.

Hvitserk moves in closer, until you can see his face between your ankles and don’t have to contort your neck so badly anymore. “That’s what Ivar wants.” His softly scratchy voice adds weight and intimacy to his words. “But what do you want?”

His fingers are still just teasing, up and down and around your entrance. He hasn’t even taken his dick out. “Fuck! Did he send you in here to test me or something?” You’re starting to feel desperate. “This isn’t about obedience, Hvitserk. I need to be used. I want it this way. I-I just want you to fuck me like a toy.”

“That’s it?” he asks, a wicked gleam flashing through his deep-set eyes. “All this” he gestures at your body “is just here for me to play with?”

“Uh huh.”

He grins and nips at your inner thighs, and finally presses two of those long fingers into your pussy.

You throw your head back and keen your pleasure.

He toys with you, for a while. The relief of friction, of satisfying depth and pressure, starts to give way to fear that he might accidentally push you into orgasm before Ivar had permitted it. That hadn’t sounded like it would be such a hard rule to follow, when you thought that Hvitserk was going to come in here like the horny bro he’d been acting like before, and just sink his eager cock straight into you.

But even when there’s no contest to be won, Hvitserk evidently loves getting up close and personal with the pussy. He pulls his fingers out just to bring them to his lips, plunging them into his own mouth to taste you with a little savoring sound as he locks a promising look onto your eyes.

He’s not done. Hvitserk’s fingers slide under the ropes that bind the vibrator against your clit, then he’s pushing them out of his way and removing it.

You sigh, relieved to be free of the temptation and missing it immediately at the same time.

But then Hvitserk’s mouth replaces the device. And this is not just a taste. This is business, the same masterful pace and pressure that won him the contest earlier.

“No . . .” you wail at him, drowning under your own conflicting needs. “No, Hvitserk, Ivar said not to.”

He lifts his head just barely far enough to answer you, so that you can feel his breath against your slick and sensitive parts with every word. “I’m supposed to use you how I want, right? And what I want to do is eat this pussy like a birthday cake.”

“You can’t,” you insist. “I’m not allowed to come!”

He barely hesitates. “But I want you to,” he says, voice breathy and urgent. And he begins another round of his very best work.

There’s not really any other type of ordeal quite like this one. Pleasure blooms, white-hot and urgent, beneath Hvitserk’s tongue, and you can do nothing but grit your teeth and try to push it back. You could use your safeword if this was truly bothering you, Ivar had told you that Hvitserk was informed how that works. But this is a challenge you prefer to ride out, come what may.

You know Ivar well enough to be sure that he’s monitoring this, although you don’t see him darkening the doorway this time when you strain your neck to look. Perhaps he’s waiting just outside the door. Or hell, maybe the walls just are as thin as the boys keep saying. Either way, it makes you want to do him proud. Show him you can endure even this absolutely torturous pleasure, and follow his command despite it.

You manage to hold out, though internally you’re screaming. Your body is clenched in a line of sheer, stubborn tenacity against that insistent rapture when Hvitserk finally gives up, swiping his face with the back of his arm as he stands up. “Fine. Is this what you want?” He pulls out his dick, proud and rock-solid with a bit of a graceful curve toward the tip. He gives himself a crude stroke. “On to the main course, then.”

You sob your victorious agreement.

He grabs a rubber. Ivar had literally left a bowl of condoms right next to you, on top of a guest towel. It doesn’t get much more demeaning than that.

Hvitserk whips his shirt off and then leans over you, ready cock bobbing, and grasps one of your swaying feet in each hand. “This is so fuckin’ hot,” he intones, staring at the ropes. “Can you handle it if I leave you like this while we fuck?”

You let out a shaky breath and agree. You’ll stretch out later. This is, just as Hvitserk said, too fuckin’ hot.

The angle has your hips turned up rather sharply. He misses on his first attempt to enter you, cock slipping off your lubricated lips. He mutters an obscenity and then laughs it off, reaching down to line himself up better with an endearingly self-deprecating smirk.

It’s fun to watch him handle himself. You can’t do much to help the process, your body positioned precisely how Ivar wanted you left, with very little wiggle room. A lock of dirty blonde hair falls into his face as he peers down and lifts up onto his tiptoes to drive himself downward into your body.

It just got real, now. There’s nothing more grounding than an urgent cock pressing deep, deep inside.

Hvitserk leans over you, eyes going wide and tight around the edges as he sinks all the way into your aching pussy. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight like this.”

Your eyes bulge a little as you agree. This angle makes you feel full as hell.

Hvitserk stares down into your face as he starts moving his hips. That eye contact of his, fuck. You’re not sure how to handle it. Somehow it feels more intimate than the rubbing of your naughty bits together. He fucks down into you with an increasing pace, his lips curling up in a cheeky smile. “This is it, huh?” he glances down, looking at the way your tits bounce between your imprisoned arms, at your upturned cunt swallowing his cock down. “What you were begging for.” He interrupts himself with a sigh and a smile, bites his lip as he repeats an angle that must be particularly good for him.

“Fuck, yes,” you say, relishing the relentless depth of every one of his increasingly-wild strokes. “Use me.”

He puts one knee up on the bed, balancing the movement by wrapping an arm around your raised leg, and deepens the already-maddening intensity of the position. He groans with abandon above you, guttural sounds as he does exactly what you’ve encouraged him to do. You let him rut into you with no concern for anything else at all, neither your comfort or your pleasure. It’s worth it; the rush of this feels better than any soft, candlelit evening you could get out of a partner that was focused only on making you feel good. This is so much more complex; it scratches a deep itch you couldn’t even begin to explain, to let every boy in this apartment use your body according to their own wild and selfish desires.

Hvitserk is going to come soon. You can tell by the way his face is twisting to one side, almost wincing, the pleasure apparent in the wild sparkling of his eyes as he continues to attempt to hold onto your gaze even through all of this. You can hear it in the way his grunting breaths are matching the rhythm of his strokes, and the way his thrusts have gone from fluid to insistent, driving at a tight, brutal angle so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your backbone.

He invokes your name like a curse when he finally blows, drawing it out into a long and ragged sound. He can’t keep his eyes open for that moment, making you feel like you can finally catch your breath just as he’s losing his.

He shudders inside you, sealing himself in deep as he comes down from it. He’s propped his weight onto one hand that presses into the mattress just beside your head, so you don’t have much of anywhere to look aside from his heavy brow as he sags in the air right above you.

This time Ubbe’s not ready and waiting. You can’t see the doorway, but if Ivar’s there he has yet to announce himself. This time Hvitserk gets to stay nestled inside you as long as he wants, and you catch your breaths together.

When he lifts his head, his eyes are glittering with easy mirth and hints of something deeper. You smile back, squeezing your inner arms into contact with his body. It’s the closest to a hug you can do in these restraints.

Hvitserk turns his head, following the line of your arm up to ropes that connect it to your ankle. “Let’s get you out of those,” he says gently. He withdraws his cock with a shaky breath and eases himself back up to standing. “I can’t believe you—” his mouth is set at a wry angle and he shows his awe in a little shake of his head. “I’m sorry I—”

He’s cut off by Ivar’s return, his voice a sharp, loud contrast that instantly shifts the mood. “Leave those, Hvitserk. I will handle that.”

Hvitserk had just been reaching for your ankle. He drops his arm and melts back a bit.

“Did you enjoy my gift?” Ivar asks, stepping in between the two of you. He sets his crutch so he can stand more solidly beside the bed, and looks you over. His eyes crackle with a deep blue fire at whatever mess he sees in your face, and the expanse of your naked skin. When Hvitserk doesn’t give much of a response, Ivar moves to loosen the rope at your closest ankle. “Would you like to help me give her the rest of her punishment now?” He spares one pointed glance for his brother. “You are the wronged party, after all.”

“That wasn’t the punishment.” He looks at Ivar with a raised brow.

“Of course not. She loved that.” Ivar says, matter-of-factly, and then his whole face breaks out in his evilest grin.

Next Chapter

Link to my other Hvitserk fics

#hvitserk/reader #hvitserk/you #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk smut #playing house fic

164 notes · View notes

chancelloramidala · 4 years ago

Text

Staring at the Sun ➤ Evan Buckley

Chapter One: You’re Fucking Joking.

Warnings: shooting, gunshot, blood, hospitals

Masterlist

Injuries on the job, especially as a firefighter, was nothing new. You had to be ready to endure whatever came at you, it was apart of the job description to be frank. But nothing could prepare Marceline Pierce for getting fucking shot, not once, but twice. The first bullet hit her in the thigh, luckily barely missing her femoral artery and stayed lodged in there, while the second on swiped clean through her left abdomen.

The call was to an cocaine overdose at a suburban mansion, and whilst everyone else was helping the victim, Marceline and Buck searched the rest of the house for the person who dialed 9-1-1. They made the stupid decision to split up so they could more ground because when I tell you the mansion was huge, it was. That’s when Marceline found who they were looking for in the bathroom.

It was a white male, early thirties and completely coked up by the smudged white lines on the marbled counter along with the white power covering his nose. He looked severely disheveled and was waving a gun around, muttering to himself and pacing back and forth. Marceline tried to talk the guy down, keeping her hands up to show that no she wasn’t a threat but didn’t keep her guard down. If worse came to worse, she was going to try and take the gun.

After that, everything was kind of... hard for her to remember if you could believe it. There were certain things she could remember, like how she was carefully walking towards the guy, Johnny that was his name, when Buck suddenly entered the room in search for Marceline. Johnny then pointed to gun at Buck, the last person, she wanted to be near a fucking gun.

So she acted on instinct, her mind yelling at her to make sure Buck was safe. Marceline charged towards Johnny, and when her hands were wrapped around his wrists, it went off and her left thigh was on fire. But it didn’t matter, Buck was still in danger. She groaned, biting through the pain as she staggering towards Johnny when he shot at her again but this time aiming for her side.

That’s when she finally fell, sort of slow-mo like as she bled onto the tiled floors.

Bobby was suddenly hovering over her, so was Chimney. Talking was hard at the time, so she just stared blankly at her Captain as one of the paramedics tried to stabilize her for transport. Buck was suddenly there too, he looked angry and seemed to be shouting but to be honest, Marceline couldn’t hear what he was saying.

But... where was Johnny?

Was the gun away?

Was Buck safe now?

Her mind was spinning.

She was then inside of the ambulance, Bobby beside her and holding her hand as he and Chimeny told her to stay awake. And Marceline tried, she really did.

But, fuck, her eyes were heavy, almost as if someone put bricks on them.

So against her Captain’s orders, she slept.

Later, much later, Marceline woke up in a hospital room to the beeping of machines she was hooked up on and a cartoon playing incessantly on the shitty TV. Sitting beside her was her best friend, roommate, and ex-girlfriend Nicolette Bishop.

Apparently, she’s been out for four days from a medically induced coma after the shooting incident. Her team has been visiting since then, leaving small gifts and reading to her until she woke up. Even Nic’s daughter, Gemma came to visit a few times and proof of that was her poorly painted toenails and drawings left by her bedside.

Even though she was glad to be alive, Marceline couldn’t help but wonder if Buck was okay. Her chest was tight with anxiety at that thought.

Were her efforts in vain?

Did she really get fucking shot for nothing?

“No, Buck’s fine.” Nic told her as she fluffed Marceline’s pillow for the hundredth time that hour. “He visited you while you were out, just talking about random things, I didn’t really hear him.”

She relaxed at that, inwardly smiling at the fact that he was here when she was asleep.

The doctor said she’d be out of commission for at least a month and a half to heal properly and then another for physical therapy and check-ups.

Marceline fucking hated that. She verbalized that to her doctor, who wasn’t surprised and just shrugged before leaving.

What was she supposed to do till then? Sit her ass on the couch in front of the television and watch shitty reality TV? Plus, she knew Nic was going to baby the hell out of her till she could walk by herself.

But Nic wasn’t the only person ready to help Marceline.

By the time Marceline was released from the hospital, the 118 had already prepared a schedule where they’d take turns to spend the afternoon with her when they had the days off.

The last thing she wanted as her team to step into her home, one of the few places where she could separate her work life with her home life. But it’s not like she was able to have a say in any of this.

Nic was absolutely thrilled for the extra help, knowing that she’d be a little preoccupied from her job as a caretaker to take anymore personal days off, when only the month before Gemma was sick with a stomach bug.

For the next two months and a half, Marceline was bombarded by Bobby’s cooking, Chimney’s horrible jokes, and Hen’s warm hugs. As for Buck? Well he visited a little less than the rest of them, continuously thanking her for basically saving his life. The poor woman didn’t know how to respond to this, only lamely shrugging and picking at her nails while saying, “I just did what anyone else would do...” for the one’s they love...

In between those heartfelt visits, Athena Grant came by to give her a stern talking to about charging at someone with a loaded weapon. For as long as Marceline could remember, Athena was the mother-figure she never had growing up in the foster system and always fretted when she did something a little too reckless on the job.

“What the hell were you thinking? That druggie had a gun pointing at you, Marceline! You’re obviously not bulletproof!” Athena would go on a tangent, wagging her finger at the younger woman.

“But he pointed the gun at Buck too, Athena!” Marceline shot back with a type of ferocity that the cop never saw before. “I...I didn’t think at the time, I know that but... I didn’t care what happened to me.” she chewed at her lower lip as she stared at the older woman. “Buck was in danger, I just- I had to- I would never forgive myself if something-” happened to him.

Marceline broke down, her hands now shaking as tears spilled out of her eyes. She broke eye contact with Athena, covering her face with her shaky hands to hid how embarrassed and vulnerable she felt in this moment.

Athena watched the young woman that she considered one of her own as she was struck with a realization. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Marceline whimpered, curling herself in a ball that wouldn’t break her stitches.

“Oh, baby,” Athena sat down next to her and wrapped her arms around the weeping woman before pulling her into a side hug. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, I was just worried about you.” she placed a kiss to Marceline’s hair. “But I understand. We do crazy things for the people we love.”

Marceline was finally cleared to go back to work in the next two weeks. Her confession was only known to Athena and Nic (the latter only learning this piece of information months beforehand with a drunk Marceline going on and on about why she loves Buck), and was never spoken about again.

But after her sort of near death situation, Marceline decided that she should tell Buck how she feels. Even if he was a self-diagnosed sex addict. It didn’t matter. Life was too short to have any regrets, right?

Marceline came to her first day back with anxiety settling in her bloodstream, her blue duffel bag hung over her shoulder. She was glad that there was no one greeting her or anything, it was as if she never got shot. All she wanted was to get back to work and have everything go by smoothly. Then she walked over to her locker, “PIERCE” written in neat, bold handwriting and stuffed her things inside.

“Mars, come up, breakfast is getting cold!” Bobby shouted over the railing.

She grinned. God, she missed Bobby’s cooking. Not that she didn’t have constant access to it because there were literally tons of leftovers currently sitting in her fridge, but it was different when Bobby cooked at the fire station. Now, it was actually a home cooked meal.

“Alright, Bobby, hold on,” she yelled back at him before ascending up the stairs, holding the railing because wow did these steps get bigger somehow?

And as she finally reached the top steps, she almost immediately wanted to turn around run away.

“Welcome back, Marceline!” everyone cheered and smiled excitedly underneath a large, brightly colored banner hung up above.

Fuck, this is not what she wanted. “Oh gosh,” she started, her hand finding it’s way into her hair. “You guys really didn’t have to-”

“Ba-ba-ba,” Chimney shook his head and stepped forward before slinging his arm around her shoulder. “Yes we did, we’ve missed your brooding presence inside the truck and had to celebrate your return.”

"Look, we know you didn’t want a big welcome back kind of party, so it’s just us, some cake, and pure vibes.” Hen looked at Marceline thoughtfully with a small smile.

It really was just Bobby, Hen, Chimney, and Athena. The presence of Buck was missing, but that wasn’t too surprising, he tended to be late to almost everything.

Bobby then held up a cake with a bright smile. “It’s ice cream cake, your favorite.”

Yes, ice cream cake is indeed Marceline’s favorite. And, yes, she really did not want to make a big deal about her return... but the hopeful and expecting looks on her teams faces made her throw away her previous reservations.

“Alright, fine.” she sighed before playfully shoving Chimney’s arm off of her shoulder. “I guess, I’ll enjoy myself until we have a call.”

“Ah, that’s the spirit!” Athena smiled and clapped her hands together. “Okay, here are the plates and the utensils-”

“Hey guys, sorry for being late,” Buck’s voice filled the air and Marceline almost instantly whipped around with a dumbest smile on her face. “But I wanted to bring Abby,”

Abby? Who the fuck was Abby?

Marceline’s smile wavered at the sight of a redheaded woman who was at least double her own age standing behind Buck. With closer inspection, they were holding hands.

Oh...

“That’s alright Buck, c’mon and get some cake before Marceline eats the whole thing,” Bobby smiled at the other man and waved the couple over.

"Well, I felt a little silly coming here without anything so I brought brownies,” Abby smiled lightly, holding up store-bought brownies as she walked over.

“All food is welcomed,” Athena replied in kind to her before sneaking at glance at Marceline who stood scarily still and was obviously biting back a few emotions.

Abby nodded and placed the brownies on the table as she took a plate that Buck handed her before turning her attention to Marceline. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Abby, I’ve heard great things about you”

Marceline hated how almost on sight she hated Abby’s guts. And it was over a stupid fucking reason, a boy. God, way to be less of a fucking feminist, Marceline.

So she put on one of her best “this is fine, I’m perfectly okay” which meant a tight smile plastered on her face and shoved every dark and ugly emotion she had into the deepest parts of her soul.

You could do this, you can fake being nice and perfectly okay, you’ve done this your whole life.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Abby, I’m Marceline,”

@skyslowalking & @beelarson 4 u darlings <3

32 notes · View notes

btsqualityy · 5 years ago

Text

Scripted: Part 17

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating

Nine days. Nine days had passed without so much as a peep coming from Namjoon’s lips. There had been no change in his condition, for better or for worse, so it had literally turned into a massive waiting game for you and the citizens of South Korea.

A majority of citizens were very much up in arms over the attempted assassination of their believed President. Many of them loved Namjoon for how insightful, progressive, and determined he was and it hurt their hearts to see some vile person try to cut that down. On the other hand though, there was a decent amount of the population who believed that Namjoon was a conceited asshole who needed this “reality check”; those are the people that you hoped would burn in Hell, right along with the dickheads who had tried to kill Namjoon.

Speaking of the killers, the last that you’d heard was that there were three possible suspects and that the special team that had been assembled just to find the conspirators were digging into that further. You couldn’t say that the news necessarily made you feel better, but it did ease the pain a little bit.

As for you, you had been keeping consistent at Namjoon’s bedside the entire time that he had been unconscious. You’d leave sometimes, when Jimin managed to convince you that you needed to sleep in an actual bed or eat a full, regular meal, but that was only for a few hours at most and never overnight. Deep down, you knew that you probably should’ve been taking better care of yourself, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave Namjoon in that hospital room alone.

As you were sat in your chair that was placed next to Namjoon’s bed, you were interrupted in the middle of reading a magazine by a knock on the door. As you lowered the magazine down onto your lap and looked over your shoulder, you saw Yoongi stepping inside.

“Hey hey,” he called and you set the magazine aside before standing up, giving him a tight hug after he walked over to you. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling away, and you motioned for him to sit down in the empty chair that was next to yours.

“How is he?” Yoongi wondered and you sighed dejectedly.

“Still no change,” you told him. “The doctors said that some of the swelling that he was having has gone down, but we’re not sure if that’s a sign of recovery or not yet.”

“Dammit,” Yoongi huffed, shaking his head.

“How are things at the National Assembly Building?” You asked and Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“It’s almost as if those old bastards were waiting for something to happen to him,” Yoongi spat as he motioned to Namjoon with his chin. “They’re already trying to undo the Farmer bailout plan that he introduced a few weeks ago.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Yoongi nodded. “You know that they’ve always hated him.”

“Yeah I do, but I never thought it was that bad,” you grimaced.

“Us being young, open minded men who are more concerned with the lives of the citizens than we are with lining our own pockets will always bother them,” Yoongi explained. “The only reason that I haven’t let them have it yet is because I don’t wanna undo all of Joon’s handwork and I don’t want things to be harder for him whenever he does wake up.”

“I appreciate it Yoongi, and I know he does too,” you smiled softly. “Speaking of that though, anymore word on those suspects?”

“Oh yeah, that’s what I came here to tell you actually,” Yoongi gasped, remembering what he had wanted to tell you. Just before he could start talking though, you heard a raspy voice call out to you.

“Y/N-ah?” You whipped your head to the side, your eyes widening when you saw Namjoon’s head turned towards you and his eyes wide open. You sprung out of your chair, moving to sit on the edge of the hospital bed as you gently picked up one of his hands.

“Oh my gosh, you’re up,” you smiled, trying to keep the tears from welling up and spilling over onto your cheeks. “Are you in any overwhelming pain?”

“Here,” he croaked, his other hand that you weren’t holding motioning towards his abdomen. You nodded and then looked over your shoulder at Yoongi.

“Can you go get the doctor please?” You requested and Yoongi nodded, standing up from his chair and speed walking out of the room. You then turned back to Namjoon, reaching up and running your fingers through his slightly greasy hair.

“I’m so happy that you’re awake,” you whispered to him. Before he could reply, the door burst open and Namjoon’s doctor was walking inside of the room followed by Yoongi.

“Mr. President,” Dr. Song grinned, reaching up and removing the stethoscope from around his neck. “We’re very happy to see that you’re conscious again.”

“T-thank y-yo-,” Namjoon tried to say before coughing violently. You furrowed your brows while Dr. Song set the stethoscope on Namjoon’s chest, listening to his breathing.

“First Lady Kim, do you want to get him some water?” Dr. Song asked. “His throat is probably really dry after 9 days.” You nodded and stood up from the bed, moving over to the side table where there was a pitcher of water and paper cups, grabbing one and filling it up before going back to the bed. Dr. Song had pressed the button on the hospital bed so that the top half of Namjoon’s body rose, making it so that he was sitting up.

“Here, slow sips,” you encouraged him, holding the cup up to his lips and watching as he took small drinks from it. After he had downed about two thirds of the cup, you pulled it away and set it on the side table.

“Better?” Dr. Song asked and Namjoon nodded slowly.

“Lots,” he replied clearly.

“Do you remember what happened?” Dr. Song wondered.

“I was...shot, right?” Namjoon said and both you and Dr. Song nodded. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“I was alright, but Momo, Jungkook, and Taehyung all got hit in the crossfire,” you revealed and his eyes got noticeably larger. “They’re all ok though, don’t worry.”

“Thank God,” Namjoon huffed, a sharp exhale escaping his throat right after and you figured that his chest must be hurting.

“We’re gonna do some more testing and xrays on you, to see if there’s any pressing issues that we need to take care of,” Dr. Song spoke up. “I’ll leave you guys to talk in the meantime though.” Dr. Song bowed deeply to Namjoon before turning and walking out of the room.

“You have some timing, you know that?” Yoongi chuckled as he moved closer to the bed.

“You’ve been handling things in my absence?” Namjoon asked and Yoongi nodded. “I know the old geezers have been giving you hell, huh?”

“You don’t even know,” Yoongi groaned, making Namjoon chuckle deeply which then set off another round of coughing.

“Relax,” you admonished him, making Namjoon nod before he leaned back against the bed.

“So, did you catch the fucking bastards yet?” Namjoon wondered.

“That’s actually what I was about to talk to Y/N-ah about before you woke up,” Yoongi smiled. “We found the people responsible.”

“So those three were guilty?” You said.

“Yep,” Yoongi confirmed. “They claim to have done it because they believe that Joon is ruining the great country that South Korea is with his progressive ideals, and all that other bullshit.”

“We’re sure those old geezers in Assembly didn’t have anything to do with it, because that sounds like them?” Namjoon pointed out and you couldn’t help but to laugh softly.

“We’re sure,” Yoongi laughed. “The three who did it are in custody now and waiting for their arraignment.”

“Good, I hope they burn in hell,” Namjoon spat and you just shook your head at how much he sounded exactly like you did.

................................

Later that night, after Namjoon had gotten more tests and xrays done, he was back in his hospital room. The doctor found that the bullets had done some pretty bad damage to his chest cavity so he’d have to have another surgery soon in order to take care of that.

“Would you stop fawning over me?” Namjoon chuckled, watching as you made sure that his blanket was tucked over his feet. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” you told him absentmindedly, moving up towards the top of the bed in order to fix his pillows behind his head. “Just because you woke up, doesn’t mean that you’re fine.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” He pointed out and you looked down at him, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, but there were a lot of times over the last nine days that I thought that was going to change at any moment,” you admitted, dropping down so that you were sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “As much as I wanted you to be ok, the constant image of you falling down those steps with your chest bleeding replaying in my head made it hard to believe that you’d ever wake up. I think that’s why I didn’t want to leave your side once you were out of surgery.”

“You stayed here with me the entire time?” He questioned and you hummed in affirmation. “You know, when I was unconscious, I had dreams.”

“Really?” You said in surprise.

“Well, I’m not sure if they would be considered dreams in the conventional sense, but that’s what they felt like,” he explained. “I dreamed about a lot of things, but mostly you.”

“Me?” You squeaked.

“Yeah. I dreamed about how we first met, and our wedding day, and the day that we found out that you were pregnant,” he said and you smiled sadly.

“You almost fainted in our bathroom when you saw those two lines,” you laughed at the memory.

“Can you blame me for being terrified?” He huffed playfully. “I didn’t want to be the kind of father that my dad was to me, to our child so I was scared shitless.”

“You wouldn’t have been like your father,” you assured him. “You couldn’t have been that bad even if you tried your hardest to be.”

“I had a lot of dreams about that too,” he said before elaborating. “About me and my dad and our relationship.”

“And how was that?”

“Let’s just say that a lot of the things that he’s talked me into over the years, were more for his benefit rather than mines,” Namjoon summed up and you nodded because you had always known that.

“I’m sorry,” you told him. “I know you’ve always had mixed emotions towards your dad.”

“Yeah,” he sighed before looking at you. “Can I tell you something? And you don’t have to give me an answer but I’d like for you to think about it.”

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“I remember that you asked for a divorce before we got out of the limo that night,” Namjoon started. “Do you still want that?”

“Joon, with everything going on, I haven’t even thought about that,” you replied honestly.

“But you’re with Jimin, right?” He asked and you hesitated for a few seconds before nodding. “Well, I hope that you’ll still maybe consider me.”

“Huh?” You grunted in confusion.

“That night, I just gave up and agreed to the divorce because I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have,” he explained. “But in one of the dreams I had, I realized that I owe it to myself and to you to fight for what we have because we were good before all of this shit happened. I know that I’ve been the literal worst husband ever for the last eight months and despite whatever reasons that I thought justified that, it doesn’t make anything that I did right.”

“So what exactly are you saying?” You asked for clarification.

“I’m saying, that I’m going to fight for you Kim Y/N, because I love you and I’ve never stopped,” he declared firmly. “I’ll go to counseling, both on my own and with you, so that we could work on our issues if that’s something that you’d in interested in. And I ‘d do whatever else it takes to win you back.”

“It doesn’t just work like that though, Joon,” you told him weakly.

“I know and if you decide here and now that you wanna stay with Jimin and go ahead with the divorce, then I’m not gonna make it hard for you and that’s a promise,” he assured you. “But I’m also not gonna stand idly by without at least trying.” You just stared at him, wondering why the hell it had taken this version of Namjoon, the version that you had fallen in love with all those years ago in college, to show up.

Instead of giving him an outright answer either way, you just leaned forward and pressed your lips against his forehead, letting your lips linger on his skin for a few seconds before pulling away from him.

................................

Tag List: @toddsgirl27 @leftieaquarius @joyfulkmusicfan @jennyjq @xcharlottemikaelsonx @pop228 @belatona @babebri144 @dragonqueen01 @paolaa9700 @yiarsan @sunshinein17 @daydreambrliever @lyralefayc @weirdestpersoninearth @peachesandcreamsthings @missseoulite @ramengrace @minyoongi-infiresme @0minabean0 @korkanswers @dchimminie @mysr3 @emily2404xx @leilalago @vonvi-blog @btsxdoll @heartfeltscribblings @nooooooooona @eternalmoonji @lyralefay @jikooksgirl19 @cloudbuffalo @moonsjoons @kjooniesbabygirl @anpanman-sonyeondan @midnight-storm @joondala @lolsiiike @missyjo118 @kookiestaejam @jertazz @xwallowsx @yourlipssoirresistible @brittneymccray @swoozleee @behind-the-surface

283 notes · View notes

leelysian · 4 years ago

Text

Changbin as your older brother AU 💖✨

genre: fluff, bullet point fic

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

Disclaimer: I do not personally know Changbin. This work is purely fiction and my own idea. I took inspiration from his on screen persona. Please do not translate or re-upload my work.

A/N: hi :) Sorry if this is kinda bad. I’m running out of ideas for this series(?). It’s really hard to write these aus for the members when there’s limited knowledge about them and when you’re trying to make everything seem different without making it seem like they’re all one dimensional and cut from the same cloth. Thank you to everyone who has been reading these older brother aus and thank you for being patient. Please leave some feedback, it really keeps me going. ❤️

☆ Let’s start with you as babies.

☆ Changbin would for sure as kiddy questions like “How did the baby get inside mummy’s tummy?” “When will baby come out?” “How does baby poop?”

☆ Your parents either answered him vaguely or somehow dodged his questions.

☆ Would sleep in your parents bedroom close to your mum to protect her baby bump.

☆ Would be hella excited to feel you kick in your mum’s tummy.

☆ Would say cute things to the baby bump. “Come out quickly baby I can’t wait to play with you.” “We can play with *insert favourite toy* together.” “We’re going to have a lot of fun together.” I am close to tears

☆ Doesn’t care about the gender.

☆ When you were born, he was extremely excited to see you but little Binnie patiently waited till your parents had their moment first until they ushered him to the hospital bed.

☆ He was wide eyed as he held you as if scared to hurt you. He smiled when he stroked your cheek with a finger and smiled wider when you grabbed onto his finger.

☆ CUDDLES, CUDDLES AAAAAAAND MORE CUDDLES

☆ Tried to help your parents take care of you but most of the time failed.

☆ *tries to put pants on you* *gets kicked in the face instead*

☆ The only thing he could properly do was cuddle you as he fed you a bottle and somehow you ate properly if he was the one feeding you when you were being fussy.

☆ *you two fall asleep while he’s holding you*

☆ Adoring/curious stares.

☆ Fed you a bit of lemon for jokes when you were starting to grow teeth and had the time of his fricking life when he saw your reaction.

☆ I’m talking the kind of laughs he does with his whole body.

☆ Helped you learn how to walk patiently. Just laughed when you fell on your butt.

☆ Taught you how to high 5 at a very young age.

☆ You talked to him a lot. Not like he understood what you said because it was mostly babbling but it was fun for both of you.

☆ You broke a lot of his toys. He’d get upset until he got new ones.

☆ The one toy he never shared with you was Gyu, his plushie.

☆ Fast forward you’re older and know how to walk and talk coherently, Changbin is a kid.

☆ Changbin wants cookies but they’re on the top shelf and your mum purposefully put them there so neither of you could reach.

☆ “Changbin what are you doing?”

☆ Changbin: 👀

☆”I’m gonna tell mum~”

☆ “NO DON’T. If you help me, I’ll give you a cookie then you have to promise me you won’t tell mum.”

☆ Your smart ass contemplated for a few seconds before you agreed, “Ok what do we do?”

☆ “If I lift you up can you grab the jar? Don’t drop it.”

☆ “Yes.”

☆ Somehow both of you managed to retrieve the jar unscathed. Why none of you thought to grab a chair and do it, I don’t know.

☆ One cookie turned to two then three until the jar was half empty and your dad caught you.

☆ Everyone except you two with crumbs around your mouths in the room:️

👁️👄👁️

☆ Your dad walked in with brooding eyes. He grabbed a cookie and started eating quietly, “It’s a secret.”

☆ All three of you smiled happily and continued munching on the cookies.

☆ Until a while later your mum walked in and gasped, “YOU ATE ALL THE COOKIES?! *insert dad’s name* YOU WERE IN ON THIS TOO!”

☆ The three of you gulped nervously until you said, “No mum look! We saved a few for you!” The three of you smile innocently.

☆ Your mum sighed and smiled exasperatedly. “This is the last time.” A chorus of agreement sang throughout the room yet nobody meant a single word.

☆ Most of the time you two were hyperactive and played around so much you’d be knocked out cold by the time it was around 9 pm.

☆ Your parents had to lug you to your shared room.

☆ You two played tag a lot, he was really fast so you’d always get tagged very quickly.

☆ HIDE AND SEEK

☆ Running. So much running. You’re the hyper kids.

☆ Rock paper scissors. Winner flicks the loser’s forehead. Changbin always took the penalty but never really doled it out on you, if he did it wasn’t too hard.

☆ Races. “LAST ONE IS A ROTTEN EGG!”

☆ Changbin could easily win, but sometimes he slowed down purposefully to let you win for a change.

☆ Giggles. Giggles everywhere. Giggles all the time.

☆ Pillow forts in your room.

☆ Tickle fights.

☆ Cuddling together while watching cartoons.

☆ You thought he was cool.

☆ He liked you thinking so highly of him.

☆ Made him want to be even cooler for you.

☆ He’d ruffle your hair playfully.

☆ He’d pinch your nose. “AAAAHHH”

☆ He’d pull your hair.

☆ PIGGY BACK RIDES!!!!!!!!!

☆ Such a joker. It was harmless fun.

☆ Once you doodled on his school notes. He got mad and stopped talking to you.

☆ He rarely got angry at you, sure you two bickered sometimes and sometimes got whiny at each other.

☆ You apologised with a treat you got, instead of eating it by yourself, you gave it to him as a peace offering.

☆ He didn’t eat it himself, he shared. “It’s okay just don’t do it again. These are important. You’ll know when you get older.”

☆ “Ok. I’m sorry.”

☆ Things became alright again.

☆ Fast forward you’re tweens/teens/young adults.

☆ The dynamic is wild.

☆ You two would always goof around like idiots.

☆ Changbin annoyed you a lot.

☆ “Y/N look over there!” you’re stuck in visible confusion. *smacks your head and runs*

☆ “CHANGBIN!”

☆ You’re eating chips. “Y/n what’s that?” “What’s what?” *steals bag*

☆ “When are you gonna stop tricking me?”

☆ “When are you gonna stop falling for that?”

☆ You get pissed.

☆ Then it escalates into a wrestling match until ultimately you get hurt and start nearly crying in pain.

☆ “FUCK! SHIT SHIT SHIT I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY HERE YOU CAN HIT ME BACK. PLEASE DON’T TELL MUM! PLEASE STOP CRYING!”

☆ You’re watching tv peacefully. Changbin walks in with a nerf gun/water gun. “REACH FOR THE SKY!”

☆ The living room turns into a warzone or a set for mission impossible.

☆ You ‘borrow’ his clothes. “Y/N STOP STEALING MY SHIT!”

☆ He ‘borrows’ your charger. “GET YOUR OWN CHARGER CHANGBIN!”

☆ He casually strolls into the living room, sits next to you with feet propped up on the table, snatches the remote when you’re not looking and changes the channel.

☆ “HEY I WAS WATCHING THAT!”

☆ “Well too bad. I don’t wanna watch it.”

☆ “GIMME THE REMOTE!” “No :}”

☆ Another wrestling match for the remote.

☆ You hide his glasses. Basically keep them with you.

☆ “Hey y/n have you seen my glasses?” “Nope.”

☆ He looks EVERYWHERE.

☆ You keep them on top of the tv when he’s away. “Hey Changbin found it on the tv.”

☆ “That’s weird I don’t remember putting them there. The heck?”

☆ “Maybe you’re just losing your mind. Already becoming an oldie?”

☆ “I may be old but I can still kick your ass.”

☆ You’re the younger sibling that either grows up to the same height as him quicker or grows taller than him somehow.

☆ He hates it. You thrive on it. “Hehe shortie. Can you even reach?”

☆ So he started working out to tone up.

☆ You’re barely able to lift a heavy box. He picks it up with ease. “Do you even lift?”

☆ He’s washing the dishes. You leave your dish for him and sneak out. “Y/N! I SWEAR-”

☆ You have a lit music taste because of him.

☆ You’re sleeping, he’s up early. You need to go to school. Instead of waking you up like a normal person, he pulls the blankets completely off of you and tackles you. “Y/N WAKE UP!”

☆ “CHANGBIN YOU CRAZY BASTARD! DO YOU WANNA DIE?!”

☆ You two are eating. He’ll finish eating seemingly at the speed of light and stare at you eating. “I’m not sharing.”

☆ “I didn’t say anything.”

☆ awkward silence

☆ You pass your food to him. “You owe me, pabbit (pig + rabbit)”

☆ Both of you forget about it later on.

☆ He’s hella clumsy.

☆ He’d definitely break a glass or plate or vase.

☆ He’s the type to fix something just enough to make it seem not broken so the next person who uses it would think they broke it.

☆ Anything to not get his ass handed to him by mummy dearest.

☆ You do this thing to annoy him which is basically mock/copy him when he tells you something.

☆ “Hey you know-” “Hey you know-” “you know that-” “you know that-” this continues a few more times until he screams and tackles you.

☆ You did this thing where you literally jumped on his back when he was unaware and you'd stick to him. The scream was worth bursting your eardrums. Worked every time.

☆ He was built he could carry you.

☆ Another thing is copying his actions.

☆ He yawns, you yawn. He scratches his nose, you copy. He stretches, you stretch. He shifts, you copy.

☆ “STOP COPYING ME!” “Stop copying me” “I said STOP COPYING ME!” “I said stop copying me!”

☆ “I hate you.” “I love you too bro.”

☆ His friends like you and a lot of times you hang out with him and his friends.

☆ He wears the weirdest stuff just for shits and giggles.

☆ “Hey y/n.” “What?” you look at him and burst out laughing.

☆ Where he got a shark head mask, you had no idea. You had tears running down your face as he started to sing and sexy dance to baby shark.

☆ “STOP I’M GONNA PEE!”

☆ You two say the darndest things.

☆ “I just realised- if vampires can’t go out in the sunlight then wouldn’t the moonlight kill them too?

☆ “How?”

☆ “Moonlight is just the sunlight shining from behind the moon dumbass.”

☆ “Oh shit you’re right.”

☆ Another example of this would be:

☆ “The hospital is the only place you leave without entering.”

☆ Both of you: 👁️👄👁️

☆ You’re eating watermelon. You bite some of the white bit.

☆ “I just realised the worst part of the watermelon tastes like a cucumber.”

☆ awkward silence “wait you’re right.”

☆ “Anyways, here you can wash the plates.”

☆ “Y/N!”

☆ AEGYO FLUFFY GOODNESS

☆ Will use everything in his cuteness arsenal to get what he wants.

☆ You hate to admit it actually works sometimes.

☆ “Y/n~ pleeeaaaseee get me some cookies.”

☆ “No.”

☆ He keeps whining and rocking or shaking you. “PLEEEEAAAAAASEEE”

☆ “FINE!”

☆ Who’s really the older sibling and who’s really the younger sibling?

☆ “You know you could’ve just gotten them yourself with the time it took you to annoy me into getting them for you?”

☆ He just smiles toothily.

☆ “If you could choose between a giant me or 5 mini me’s which would you choose?”

☆ “Neither I’d rather die.”

☆ “Y/N! WHYYYYY” he whines and shakes you.

☆ He’s always there for you when you need him the most. He’ll always comfort you with tight hugs.

☆ He’s the type of person to make silly jokes and make you smile or laugh to make you feel better instead of sort of brooding with you.

☆ This is only acceptable with him, if anyone else tried to be goofy when you were upset it wouldn’t work.

☆ Because it’s Changbin’s thing. Only he has that power.

☆ You rarely see him upset. He’s always smiling, joking around and acting cute.

☆ One time, really late at night you saw him in the kitchen sitting with a glass of milk. He hadn’t noticed you.

☆ This was off putting because you rarely saw him this quiet. He’s always laughing and loud.

☆ He was staring off in the distance, the glass gathering condensation from being out of the fridge and into warm temperature.

☆ “Can’t sleep?” He was startled and shook his head no. “What’s on your mind?”

☆ “It’s nothing.” You sat with a glass of water. “You know you can tell me, right?”

☆ “I know I just don’t wanna bother you.” he said and this confused you. “Why would you be bothering me? That’s absurd.”

☆ He shrugged, “I dunno, seems like all I do is annoy people these days.”

☆ You pat his back. “Hey, that’s not true. Well it only applies to me because you’re my sibling. That’s a thing. Is there anything specific you’re talking about?”

☆ He stays quiet for what seems like the longest time until he unloads.

☆ You’re not good with words like he is. You try your best to listen and give sensible input.

☆ Changbin admired that about you. Despite being younger, you were sometimes mature and understanding. You were authentic, you never tried to be something you weren’t.

☆ Which is why he always valued your words.

☆ Afterwards if he had anything on his mind, sometimes he’d vent to you.

☆ You the ability to make his insecurities disappear simply because he feels stupid for the way he thinks when he talks to you.

☆ You make his problems miniscule, not in a belittling way but in a way that makes him realise how things could be different or done differently.

☆ Your sense of perception was something amazing.

☆ This is why Changbin believed you were the best sibling he could ask for.

☆ But little did he know, you wouldn’t be able to function properly if he wasn’t the goofy, silly, clumsy, idiotic Changbin who exists today.

☆ He’s just the right type of flavour you need in your bland life.

☆ don’t be shy put some more.

☆ He’s the right balance of a clown, a baby and a guardian angel.

☆ He’s extremely caring, loyal, kind hearted and annoying.

☆ You’d change absolutely nothing.

53 notes · View notes

stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years ago

Note

Top 10 favorite things about TFS?

Bold of you to assume I can narrow it down to just 10 things, but I’ll try my best.

Here’s a list of things I LOVE about The Final Season of TWDG, starting from #10 and working my way down to #1.

10. Rosie is best girl and doesn’t die

Listen, okay? If you give me a game with a doggo companion that I bond with only to have said doggo die for dramatic effect... you automatically lose 2 outta 5 stars on your rating. Case in point: Season 2.

However, tfs knew not to kill Rosie off for dramatic effect, knew it’d be cheap. Plus, Rosie is a sweetheart and I love that she helps Clementine come to terms with her past trauma with dogs and genuinely bonds with her. Rosie is best girl.

9. Over the shoulder camera/controls

They’re the best of the series, having come a LONG way since S1. Like, look... Don’t get me wrong. S1 isn’t unplayable or anything, far from it, but they’re not the greatest either. They’re pretty wonky at times, the fixed camera can get annoying when you’re moving around, and sometimes button presses don’t register. It’s definitely something I have to get used to whenever I go back and replay the entire series, and like I said, it’s not the worst controls in the world... but oh man, compared to TFS?

Have you ever played S1 and then jumped straight into TFS just to get a direct comparison of the two? Because I have and it’s jarring how much smoother, accurate, and overall better everything is in TFS.

Just... props, guys. Thank you for the over-the-shoulder, movable camera, thank you for the polished button prompts, and thank you for a run button that has Clementine go into a nice jog rather than a comical run or, eh... does nothing [lookin’ at you ANF... Javi slow].

It’s just so effortless to play. The most trouble I ever have is with doors but that’s a given- Doors make no goddamn sense in this series and I’ve given up trying to learn their secrets. Oh, and speaking of more improvements!

The shooting mechanic in this game is leaps better than in S1. Y’all remember the Motor-Inn shootout? The one that was such a frustrating pain in the ass?? So much death and anger...

I still die sometimes when shooting the walkers with the bow, especially the ones that are on fire, but it’s nothing compared to the shooting mechanic in S1, so the biggest THANK YOU for that one. It’s actually enjoyable to shoot stuff this time around.

8. Collectibles

You as Clementine get to pick up various collectibles to decorate her and AJ’s dorm with and it’s great. One of my favorite bits about this game is seeing Clementine wake up in this empty, lifeless room, and see it get brighter and brighter with every collectible you place throughout the game until you reach the final scene with AJ where the room is just FULL of life and personality. Like... it’s officially theirs. It’s such a good feeling!

And the devs totally didn’t have to add the collectible system in, but I’m so thankful they did. I’m one of those people who gets every single collectible every single time I play.

7. Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth

Y’know, I honestly can’t think of a better place for Clementine and AJ to end up than Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. It’s awesome, I love it, what a great idea. I also love the sense of wonder when we step outside for the first time and see the inside of Ericson, as well as the others, walking around. Like even Clementine is taken back by it.

Because of course it makes sense for Clementine to end up in a school surrounded by people closer to her age rather than with a group of dumbass adults like in the past three games.

Here it feels like they’re all about on the same level. There’s no older person here belittling Clementine because “she’s just a child and doesn’t get it,” they’re just people, y’know? Hell, if anything, Clementine’s now the most experienced one!

The school’s great! I wouldn’t change a thing about TFS taking place here. The environments are beautiful and I love exploring the world.

6. Marlon as an antagonistic character/final confrontation

I have an entire Marlon character discussion/study so I won’t put too much time into this one, but I will say that I love Marlon’s part in tfs. I love him as a surprise antagonistic character, I love how chill he is in the beginning, I love the final confrontation at the end of ep1... I just really like Marlon, y’know?

Ray Chase gives a damn near perfect performance as Marlon, so much so that I wish he survived past ep1 just so that I could hear more of his acting. Marlon himself in an interesting look at a leader character hiding his shame and guilt while trying to maintain control over everyone [including himself] around him, only to be broken down when he’s found out.

5. James

I know people tend to be pretty split on James, but I personally really like his role in tfs. I love that they included a character who was apart of the Whisperers, and hell, if anything I’d like to know MORE about James’ past with them.

I just find him and his whole “walkers are sort of people? kinda?” beliefs. Again, I know some people get annoyed with him because of his beliefs but I think he adds an interesting spin on the whole thing, y’know? Though I do love what a bitch he is if you don’t agree with him hahaha

James is a bitch and I love him, okay? I love his dumb walker mask, I love his dumb boyband hair, I love his whispery voice, and I love his backstory with the Whisperers and Charlie. I love this he’s trying so hard to be this pacifist that he ends up doing the literal thing he said he doesn’t want to do-- hurt people. Y’know... like attempting to kidnap AJ and threatening to break Clementine’s leg in the caves if he’s alive.

Which, by the way, that whole cave scene is a thing. It’s wild and I love it but not for the reasons the devs probably wanted. Like... it’s a little hilarious? I know it’s not supposed to be! But I can’t take James seriously when he’s walkin’ around his hands on his hips all huffy and puffy, okay? It’s just wild.

Anyway, I love James and wouldn’t get rid of him. Hell, I’m still waiting for my James with the Whisperers mini-series, Skybound.

4. Ericson Crew

There isn’t a single character from Ericson that I don’t like, or that I’d get rid of, which is rare with these games. Thinking back to the previous games, there’s always at least one person I could do without or that I didn’t like. I adore all of them!

The Ericson crew just feels closer than previous groups. For starters, they’re way more likable than most in our previous groups. Even when there’s tension [and boy is there tension at points] you still get the sense that they don’t hate each other, unlike in our previous groups. They do in fact love each other as a family and will do what they can to protect one another.

Plus, they’re all interesting. They’re troubled youth and I love all of them!

Aasim keeps a daily journal where he chronicles everything in hopes of learning from past mistakes to prevent future ones, he’s damn good with a bow, and he’s got a neat little soul patch on his chin.

Ruby is the tiny yet fiery medic of the group who adamantly believes in manners yet used to chase teachers around with pitchforks.

Brody is caught up in the twin mess with Marlon but she’s also shown to want an escape, a road trip where she and her friends can go see the beach, but she also suffers with anxiety and panic attacks and isn’t afraid to knock Marlon on his ass or swear at Clementine.

Mitch is a grumpy, tall boy who looks after Willy like a brother, knows how to make bombs out of manure and propane, and used to fight his neighbors because they didn’t like his face.

Omar is a sassy chef who has to have every ingredient just right otherwise he’s salty for a week and he can take a bullet to the leg like a champ.

Willy’s a goober who can climb trees like you wouldn’t believe and he made a bomb of his own in Mitch’s honor that completely wrecked the delta’s ship.

Tenn is a soft, naïve boy who draws and reads but isn’t afraid to stab a walker bitch if he has to.

Violet was sent to the school after witnessing her grandmother’s dead, she used to date Minerva who is now “dead,” has abandonment issues, tries to give off the appearance of a grumpy grump but like once she’s comfortable with you she’ll tell you her life story and do romantic shit like dancing and painting you a pin.

Louis was sent to Ericson because he was a rich brat who broke up his parents marriage because they wouldn’t let him take singing lessons and has felt like garbage ever since, using humor to cope and push people away, and keeps the façade on until someone’s willing to see past it in which he’ll finally bare his soul to you, name a song he wrote after you, and do everything in his power to keep you and everyone else safe over himself.

I just... Love ‘em all.

3. Clementine and AJ’s dynamic

To think that they almost killed AJ off, or kept him a minor character. That would’ve been a shame and an absolute waste because Clementine and AJ’s dynamic is super fucking good in tfs.

It’s actually a little baffling that AJ’s as good as he is, from his writing to his voice acting, he’s just great. And his relationship with Clementine is definitely one of my favorites to come from this game. It’s not perfect, but I don’t want perfect.

I love that AJ looks to Clem for guidance and I love the way our choices affect him, even when it’s a case of the bridge scene. Hate the bridge scene knowing that I gotta sacrifice a character I care about for another I love, but I can’t deny that I love how that choice is made. After everything, do you trust AJ or not?

Plus, their conversations are so well done, their chemistry is through the roof, and I wouldn’t change it.

Oh, and the barn scene? Gets me every time, even though I already know everything’s fine and gonna work out. Still gets me.

2. Clementine is Bisexual

I’ve talked about this in the past, but lemme just say that I love the fact that Clementine is canonically bisexual.

Doesn’t matter if you’re dating Louis, Violet, or no one, Clementine is still bisexual. The game confirms it through it’s text/subtext and Clementine’s actions that we don’t have control over, and the devs confirmed it. She ain’t straight, she ain’t a lesbian, she is bisexual.

I can’t express how happy that makes me. Just... 💗💜💙

And with her being bisexual comes her two great love interests: Louis and Violet. They’re amazing, and such an improvement over the previous game’s attempt at love interests... ahem, y’know... Kate.

1. Louis as a character/his relationship with Clementine

I mean... c’mon. Y’all knew what #1 was gonna be. Do I even need to explain? This entire blog is just me gushing about Louis/clouis.

Look, Louis is my favorite non-playable character across the entire series. Hell, even when you factor in playable characters, he’s STILL my absolute favorite. Like, even outside of his relationship with Clementine, I find him to be such a compelling character by himself.

Like I mentioned above, he came from a stupid rich family who gave him everything he ever wanted, but when his father wouldn’t let him take singing lessons, he literally worked for over a year to break up his parents marriage because “you get to be happy or you get to be rich, can’t be both.”

He gets sent to Ericson where the apocalypse happens, he never gets to make up with his parents, and he ends up using jokes and piano as a coping mechanism to deal with everything, falls into a cycle of being unreliable and the butt of the joke, and lives one day at a time without much thought for the future.

He puts on the happy jokester persona to push people away from knowing the real him and rarely shares much about himself. Hell, when Clementine does hunting and decides to take care of the walker with him, he actually does let down the wall for a minute to share his view on “this moment” before looking away like “Oof, shared too much-- HEY, GO CHECK ON AASIM :D I’LL BE OVER HERE :D FIXING THE TRAP :D and adjusting the wall ahem--”

It’s so interesting because you’d think that he’d be more open about his past with Marlon or the twins or whatever [like Violet is] but no, he doesn’t tell you shit about his past until EPISODE 3 and you have to work to get that story.

I just... I just love him. Could talk about and analyze his character for hours. And I love his relationship with Clementine. It’s just so good. The piano scene where they finally admit their feelings for one another?? That shit has my entire heart. Their entire relationship is my favorite. What else is there to say?

#asks #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg brody #twdg marlon #twdg mitch #twdg willy #twdg james #twdg tenn #twdg omar #twdg minerva

27 notes · View notes

myhauntedsalem · 4 years ago

Photo

30 Doctors, Nurses and Paramedics Describe their Most Disturbing Medical Stories

1. The Guessing Game

“I work as an ICU nurse. A mid-20s female came in with some serious cardiac abnormalities and then went into respiratory distress. Never had any medical history at all. We had to put her on the ventilator, but she was on just enough sedation to keep her lucid. She could nod/shake her head yes and no appropriately to questions.

One night, the patient in the room next to hers died, but the body was still in the room about to be taken to the morgue. The female patient’s door was closed with curtains drawn, so she couldn’t have seen what was going on next door. When I went in to check on her, she had a look of sheer panic on her face, trembling. I asked her a series of questions to see if she was cold/hot/in pain/etc. and she denied all. I asked her if she saw something—she started to aggressively nod her head YES. She wasn’t on any drugs that would make her hallucinate. I went on to get details on what this thing looked like. After playing 20 questions I got this: a man, pale white, left arm missing, heavy, bald, standing still, behind me. This was the man who had just died next door.

I spent the rest of the night consoling her.” – whites42

2. Life After Death

“When I was on an ER rotation during med school we got a call about a 23-year-old woman who was shot in the head, and who was already completely gone, but was reportedly five months pregnant so they were doing CPR until they got her to the hospital to see if the baby was viable. They got her to the ER and did an ultrasound and turned out the baby was full-term so they did a C-section in like under a minute and got the baby out.

I don’t think it’s so incredibly uncommon but it was pretty surreal to see a baby delivered from a dead person with their brain exposed and she was pretty close to the same age I was at the time.” – bluegraypurple

3. The Last Goodbye

“When I was a student, I got called in on a stroke patient. She had coded and they were doing CPR. They worked for 45 minutes, but she died. They cleaned her up, and called on the family to say goodbye, but by that time the family left. She had been both brain dead and without a pulse for more than 45 minutes. Blood had filled her brain, and she was completely grey and started to smell. Suddenly, she sat up, and called for her family. The nurses rushed to get monitors and equipment back on her. They started working on her again, she stabilized, said goodbye to her family, and promptly died a second time.” – simplesimon6262

4. Miracle Man

“When I was in trauma surgery in upstate by, got a notification about a man who was shot 3 times in the head. He comes in, literally one eye hanging out of the socket, blood everywhere, and he’s slumped forward. Apparently, he was shot in the temple, exited out his right eye socket, in the nose exited from the roof of the mouth, and In the cheek one with exit from the side of the head.

At this point, I’m thinking they just brought him in so we can pronounce him in the ER because he looked dead. I go to examine him and tilt his head back, and he says ‘Yoooo be gentle!’ I jump back and scream like a little boy, as did everyone in the room. Literally, the bullets missed his brain in every single shot.” – Noimnotonacid

5. Bleeding

“One of the aides I work with said she was doing postmortem care on a patient who had been on many, many anticoagulants before death. She said when they turned her on her side she started bleeding out of every orifice—eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She said her and the nurse went home and had nightmares for a week.” – sparklingbluelight

6. The Haunted Hospital

“My town has two really old hospitals. One no longer functions overnight, and the stories are unsettling. No one cleans the old ER alone because all the lights and call bells go off. On other floors, there’s a kid with his ball, a lady in a white dress, etc. A coworker was cleaning an entire floor utterly solo (the norm) and bounced between rooms because the cleaning solution stays wet for a few minutes. Upon returning to a freshly wiped bed, hand prints were clearly visible.” – Sapphire_Starr

7. Eyeless

“I used to do home care for an elderly lady with learning disabilities and no eyes (they were removed due to a congenital condition). She was lovely but prone to wandering around her flat at night in total silence, which led to several horrifying situations where I left my room at 2 am only to encounter her standing silently in the hallway, turning her eyeless face towards me.” – NovelistResearcher

8. Lonely

“One call that will always haunt me was on an unresponsive female at around three in the morning. We get there and do some pointless CPR along with the fire department… She had been dead for a while; no shock-able rhythm, and clear rigor mortis. The most disturbing part was that the original caller was her 11-year-old daughter, who had just spent three days with her mother’s corpse and called 9-1-1 because she was ‘lonely’. It also didn’t help that the victim was completely naked when we arrived.” – CupofJoe776

9. Clear Waters

“I have quite a few stories, most of them are hilarious and then there are those you never want to think about. What fucked me up the most was when I saw how eyes change at the moment of death. Imagine you are looking at clear water but that clear water changes to foggy in an instant. In my 8 years here I’ve only seen this once, and I’ve personally seen well over 250 dead or dying people.” – ImCuden

10. Night Lights

“I work nights in a long-term care facility as a nurse’s assistant. I have two men under my care and both of them are unable to use their call lights. They have severe dementia and debilitating Parkinson’s disease but still, their lights are looped around their bed rail. One night their light came on and I went to answer it already confused and creeped out. I turned it off and left the room. Before I could get two doors up the light came back on. I went in there and both lights were unplugged from the wall and thrown under their beds. I fished them out, plugged them back in and left.

I’ve seen shadows standing over the dying and felt a tap on my shoulder while doing chest compression’s so I knew that lady had passed.” – beeoakly

11. Holding Hands

“I’ve had a couple of weird calls. One was a major MVA-head on many, many years ago when we played M.E. as well. We had 2 DOA (husband and spouse) that were killed instantly in a head-on collision. They had a 12-year-old daughter that was in between them and they actually took the impact, saving her life.

While en route, we noticed the husband’s arm had come loose so I went back to re-strap it. As I was doing that, the wife’s arm suddenly fell out as well, and her hand fell into her husband’s. My boss was watching in the rearview mirror and helped clear the way as I ran back into the front. It spooked both of us. Apparently, the couple (mid 30’s), had just found out he was cancer free after his last treatment.” – Anonymous

12. Last Meal

“I had an old lady come in by ambulance, near death. She was a DNR (do-not-resuscitate), so we weren’t going to do much for her. She didn’t have any family that we could find. The hospital was full, so we had to keep her in the ER for the night.

Again, she was near death. When you’ve seen enough people die, there’s no mistaking it, and she was almost there. Barely responsive; pale, cool, breaths were really irregular, heart rate was up and down, too. We just turned the lights down and kept an eye on her monitor, basically waiting for her to die.

About an hour later, she’s standing at the door of her room. She’d gotten up and put on all her clothes. We were all like, ‘WTF?’ One of the nurses went to check on her, and she said she was hungry. Not knowing really what to make of things, we got her a chair, a bedside table, and went to the cafeteria and got her a tray of food.

She sat there, ate all her food, talked with the staff a little. After about an hour, she told her nurse that she was tired and wanted to lie back down. We helped her back into bed, and within 30 minutes she was dead.” – Anonymous

13. “Don’t Let me go Back there”

“When my mom worked as an E.R. nurse a guy came in from a car accident and was losing blood. In the midst of resuscitation, the man jolts awake and screams ‘Don’t let me go back there! Please, please, please don’t let me go back!’ A few seconds later they lost him.” – JeremyHowell

14. The Rusty Old Saw

“This woman was clearly struggling mentally. She went into her basement and started sawing at her wrists horizontally with a rusty hacksaw, bleeds a good amount, and then starts walking around the house. She wasn’t dying quick enough, so she sat down in a chair in the middle of the living room, and started going at her wrists again, this time with a pair of scissors.

I was the second person inside the house. It looked like a massacre. We searched the house top to bottom, fully expecting to find multiple dead bodies in there. I’ve never seen so much blood in my life. Every single room had a trail of blood in it.

The woman was found on a chair in the living room. Rigor mortis had contorted her body into a really strange, unnatural pose, and her face was haunting. Literally the stuff of nightmares. Her wrists had huge chunks of skin/veins/muscle missing from them. Saying she slit her wrists is inaccurate. She ripped them to pieces.” – anoncop1

15. Visitors

“I work a stroke/telemetry floor on the bought shift. Most of our patients are elderly. Apparently, there are two things that patients see before they pass away. Some will say that two men are walking in their rooms and telling them to get ready to leave. The patient will call and tell us that these men are big and abrasive in their demeanor. They are either terrified or annoyed when they see the two men. The other thing they will see is a little boy who will go into their rooms and try to wake them up. The boy is usually loud and runs around their rooms. The patients will call and ask who’s letting children just run around late night. Several nights or even that same shift we’re coding or cleaning the patient for the funeral home to pick up.” – pokfynder

16. The Handsome Man in Black

“I used to work in a skilled nursing facility, usually assigned to the Alzheimer’s ward. One night I’m in the linen room stocking my cart, and I heard someone shuffle up behind me, then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and there was no one else in the room. The door was still shut too.

Another lady started to complain that a man was coming into her room at night (again, Alzheimer’s so I didn’t think much of it) so to reassure her, I told her I’d check on her throughout the night. She complained of this man for every night for two more weeks when I asked her to describe him to me.

‘He’s real handsome, and wears a black suit. Oh. He’s right behind you now, honey.’

That freaked me the f*ck out. Of course, there was no one behind me. She died the next night in her sleep.” – Anonymous

17. The Blender

“We got a call for a male in his early 30s with ‘heavy groin trauma’ (exact words of the dispatcher). We roll up lights and sirens and the guy is waiting for us on the front step with a towel over his crotch. We barely come to a stop and the guy is already running towards the rig holding this towel. I asked him what was wrong and he moved the towel and this guy’s dick was just barely hanging on. Apparently, he had ‘lady problems’ so he decided to fornicate with the food mixer he had in his kitchen and accidentally turned it on.” – YayShinny

18. The Charred Skin

“Motorcycle driver, accident, third-degree burns, arrived DOA. Had to transfer him from ambulance gurney to ER bed. As we were moving him with a transfer sheet, the liquefied/cooked subcutaneous fat caused the charred skin on his back to separate and his body slipped onto the floor (despite several of us trying to ‘catch’ him).” – Doc-in-a-box

19. Dead Man Moaning

“Worked security through college at a local hospital. The only ‘creepy’ thing I remember is when a dead man moaned. One of my duties was to help wheel patients who had expired down to the in-house morgue. Once we were wheeling an older man from the ER down and halfway down the hallway he let out this low moan. I started to panic, thinking that he was coming back to life but the RN explained to me (newbie) that sometimes the air in the lungs doesn’t come out until sometime later or is delayed for a bit.” – ill_do_it-later

20. Otherworldly Screams

“I have had fellow coworkers swear that strange things have occurred in the ER. Two people that I work with were charting at the nurse’s station when they both heard a scream followed by incoherent words come from one of our open bays. There were three patients in the room and they denied screaming or hearing anything. I have also had fellow coworkers talk about hearing strange voices especially after really bad codes and one person states she felt someone grabbing her shoulder after the doc pronounced a trauma code. These are all respectable people and I do not think they would lie.” – Anonymous

21. Blank Stare

“We got a call to go out to a scene for an elderly woman with chest pains. I arrive at the house, front door is open. We knock, hear the old woman calling out from the back ‘I’m in the back room’ in a very monotone and calm voice. My partner and I go to the back of the house looking for this woman, and that’s when we smelled it. Nothing prepares you for the smell of rotting corpse. I’ve smelled it a dozen times, and it never gets any less disturbing. We radio for police and ALS backup as we move through the house.

We opened the door to the master bedroom, and there is our patient. She is approximately 80, and she is staring at the master bathroom with these cold, dead eyes. She never once looked at us as we approached her and began talking to her. I got to the bedside and got in front of her gaze, and she just looked right through me. I turned around to see what she could possibly be looking at, and there was the source of my smell.

A man, about the same age as my patient, is on the floor with very little left of his head still attached to his body. A shotgun lay on the floor next to him, and most of his head was strewn about the walls and bathroom counter. We loaded the woman up in the ambulance, and our police backup pulled up.

I don’t think that woman blinked once the entire time she was in our care.” – TheFilthiest

22. “Bill’s Here”

“I’m an RN and while I was a student I was caring for a lady who had an end-stage renal failure, had a DNAR (do not attempt resuscitation) and was shutting down. We were having a little chat when she stopped, looked over my shoulder and said ‘Bill’s here love, I’ve got to go,’ and swiftly stopped breathing. Read her old notes and Bill was her deceased husband.” – Jesspandapants

23. The Body on the Floor

“The call was for an older woman, lying in bed. When we get there, the smell is horrendous of a dead body. There are millions of flies everywhere and a little old lady in lying in the bed, alive. About five feet away, there is a body covered up by a sheet. The lady was a dementia patient, and her husband (the deceased) was the primary caregiver. Based on the number of flies and state of decomposition, the police estimated the guy had been dead for about three weeks. The woman must have been getting some food out of the refrigerator, but it was totally empty by the time we arrived.

The creepiest part happened on the way to the hospital with the woman, she said, ‘I hope that nice man on the floor is OK’.” – Tools4toys

24. The Fallen Cross

“I responded to a call where a janitor was dusting quite a large stone cross in the middle of a church. He had been up on a ladder cleaning, when he slipped off, and proceeded to try to hold onto the cross to keep from falling. Unfortunately, the weight of the 200-pound man was too much to support. The cross fell towards him, landing on his left arm, with a part of the horizontal stone of the cross, pushing his muscles and tendons out of his wrist like a squeezed toothpaste tube. Then the cross fell completely on him splattering his brain across the floor. Quite disturbing, and definitely the most horrific and gore filled call I had ever witnessed.” – UpboatOarKnotUpboat

25. The Headless Nurse

“I used to work in St Barts Hospital in London, which in parts is over 1,000 years old. One of the buildings had 2 floors (with massively high ceilings), and so the floors were taken out and rearranged to make into 5 floors. The nurses working night shift would often tell us of the ghost of a night nurse who wandered silently doing her ’rounds’ at night—but due to the new floors, only her head would be visible drifting down the ward.” – jenthejedi

26. Monsters

“I was still a nursing student at the time, but this was from when I had my psychiatric clinical placement in my 3rd year.

I was assigned to a young male patient with schizophrenia. He had been a voluntary admission because he heard voices telling him to hurt people around him, and he admitted himself because he was afraid of actually going through with it.

Anyway, I went into the room alone, as usual, and did the usual introduction and asking how he was doing. He was at a desk drawing creepy, hideous monsters—each monster had its own page, and there had to be at least half a dozen of these pages scattered around him. I asked him what they were. He answered that those were the monsters he saw. They were the monsters that whispered to him and told him to hurt people and do awful things. Guarded, I asked him, ‘Are they telling you to hurt me?’

He answered, ‘Yes.’

I didn’t stay very long in that room.” – duckface08

27. The Man in Black

“People turn batshit crazy and creepy as hell when they get really sick. There’s even a term called ICU psychosis…and trust me, it’s real. Anyway, the creepiest that takes the cake for me is this (am an ICU nurse, btw): Had a patient who was admitted for overdose. Very long history of mental health problems. She was thrashing around in bed, very combative, kicking people’s asses for days, totally incoherent.

Well, the night I had her, she started making decent sense, but still not oriented at all. She was extremely paranoid and kept talking about the man in black in the corner. I’d hear her talking to him and screaming, all night long. So I’d go in there and try to calm her down, but you could see the fear in her eyes. she was talking other nonsense about how she was in space and shit, and with certain patients, you try to redirect their ‘reality,’ but what I did didn’t help. She said ‘that man in black! Don’t you see him!’ and pointed to the corner. I said ‘there’s nobody here.’ I stepped in the corner she was pointing to and waved my hands around. While I’m waving my hands around in the air, she had the most horrifically terrified look on her face that actually scared the shit out of me, like I had just assaulted the man in black. I said ‘see, there’s nobody here’ and she said in a matter-of-factly that’s what you think.’ I promptly got the fu*k out of there.” – HeatherTakasaki

28. Eyes Wide Open

“I work in palliative. Most deaths I’ve seen have been more or less peaceful, though the ones that are not, stick with you. One guy was silently screaming through his last few hours of life. Another guy (who up until this point had been unresponsive) reached up and grabbed me when we attempted to lower his bed to turn him.

One time while doing post-mortem care I walked into the room and thought ‘that’s weird, how come nobody has closed his eyes yet?’ He had that movie-perfect dead look, with pale blue staring eyes and slack jaw and greyish, waxy skin. I closed his eyes and started the care, and when I looked again those eyes, still staring at me, were slowly opening, one slightly slower than the other. He groaned when we turned him to wash his back and his hand managed to clamp onto the bed rail and we had to pry it off. When we finally got him onto his back again, there was a foul-smelling, oily black, viscous liquid on the pillowcase. I cleaned his mouth again thinking it must have come from there, but his mouth and nose were clean. The best I could figure the stuff had come from his eye. I couldn’t wait to get that bag zipped up.” – draakons_pryde

29. Crawling up the Hallway

“I used to work as an STNA in a nursing home. Worked third shift throughout university. During the night we turned half the lights off so it was darker for the evening and didn’t get a lot of light in the residents’ rooms. We had one resident who was younger (70s) and was mostly in for mental reasons. She had long, dark hair and was very thin.

I was sitting at the nurse’s station at the top of the hall and heard a call light go off. I stood up, looked down the dark hall, and on all fours—straight out of The Ring—this resident was crawling up the hall toward me. The other STNA had forgotten to put the bed rail up and the resident was VERY good at climbing out of bed.

Needless to say, I needed some new britches and my heart was racing a mile a minute.” – blameitonthewookie

30. Heaven

“Had a young woman in full liver failure. She was orange in color and she was still conscious. She asked me what I thought it would be like to die. I told her I didn’t know but I hoped it wouldn’t be painful. She then asked me if I thought I would go to heaven. I told her that I believed I would. She asked me if I thought she would go to heaven, and I told her I wasn’t able to answer that question.

She then told me ‘I am going to heaven and I know it,’ and I asked her how she knew that and she told me something that I will never ever forget. She told me ‘I know I am because that man over there told me so.’ I asked what man and she said the man sitting on the end of the bench. I asked her what he looked like and she said ‘he looks just like the Jesus on the windows of my church.’

Well, to tell you I was pretty well affected by that statement. She then went on to say ‘And he says that you are going to go to heaven too.’

We then prayed and I will never forget that interaction between the two of us. About a week later she passed away. I hope she made it to heaven.” – Anonymous

#30 Doctors Nurses and Paramedics Describe their Most Disturbing Medical Stories #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

46 notes · View notes

the-lightning-strikes-again · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I just started reading your fan-fiction, "Adrenaline Rush" and I have to say it is VERY good. I have a question if you don't mind answering it. I am writing fan-fiction of my own and I have been pushing it off for months because I don't know where to start. For this, what was your writing process? Example: Did you write your plot first or did you write as you went to each chapter?

Hi, anon! Thanks for your very kind note and interest in Adrenaline Rush! The story has its issues/tangles, but it’s definitely been a fun and personally meaningful project for me to try writing. It means a lot to hear that you’re enjoying it! And that’s very exciting that you want to start writing as well. :)

Each writer will be different in terms of their creative process, so a part of your question involves learning more about yourself as a creator too! It’s good to know how your brain likes to work and what environment helps it hum along, which may or may not align with what works for me.

Honestly, AR’s design and development has been haphazard. For me, AR all started because I was unable to attend a nearby drag racing competition in 2018, and those races had been a pretty big staple in my life. At the same time, my head was full of Voltron shenanigans because I’d just recently joined the fandom. I was walking the family puppy when it hit me that Blue Lion, Red Lion, etc. would be good names for Top Fuel machines. I was so excited at the concept of exploring drag racing in a fic. It gave me a “race” to look forward to, along with all the drama and adrenaline that came with it. In that moment, I had enough excitement in my brain to convert the Potential Energy of my idea into the real Kinetic Energy of writing/typing.

If you have the energy but are not sure how to “start” your story, then you might consider what it means to set aside the opening or even the assumed first chapter for now. What scene/image/dialogue in your head do you really want to write right now? What happens if you just…start there, and then work backwards or forwards? Sometimes you have to get a feel for the medium you’re working with before you can really start molding the scenes and imagery into something fully formed. My first “scene” I wrote for AR was definitely not the opening one. The first story lines I wrote involved Lotor smoking a cigarette on a pro stock motorcycle, lol. I built around that image, as well as the image of a determined Allura sitting in Blue Lion, preparing to race. The desire to bring these characters and their racing machines to life really helped me hammer out that first chapter in a blur of a few days, where I puzzle-pieced scenes together.

Other activities that can help you start a story is to look at how other authors start their stories. For example, do they start with a question, or a conversation, or a description of scenery? Do they start at the very beginning of a plot, or in the middle of action and catch you up on the details later? What kind of opening in other people’s stories most engages you? What happens to your story if you start with one element over another? What kinds of plots and story structures make you feel most engaged when you read them? What happens when you try to emulate those things? (Just questions to munch on here.)

I think it also helps to ask yourself why you want to write this story. Do you just want to explore an aesthetic that makes you feel good? Do you have a deep need to explore a certain kind of character or world? Are you hoping to get a catharsis of some kind? Is it a couple of things at once? Are you wanting to write a massive epic or just a short drabble to convey a moment in time? If you know “why” you are doing something, that can help you to know what kind of scenes to write—and what the story’s goal or vibe should be. Silly plot holes and clunky dialogue and some OOCness can be forgiven, especially in fanfic, which is a labor of love anyway—but if your story radically changes its tune or plot and no longer addresses the “why” that made you so excited in the first place, then that can alienate even you from it. Once you know what you want out of your story, then you can start plotting out all the different ways you could potentially achieve that goal. This feeds directly into the types of scenes that appear in a first chapter.

Before I started writing any actual scenes for AR, I did try to feel out more of the story by writing a promotional blurb. Like, if this were a book jacket or a Goodreads summary, what would that enticing blurb potentially look like? What was this story going to be about, aside from Lotor and Allura being pretty while they race machines, lol? I had some people in a discord who were kind enough to let me “pitch” a blurb at them to see if it would be of interest. This was my original pitch, which isn’t terribly different from the story summary as it appears on AO3 today:

The discord members were very encouraging, and so that gave me the push I needed to start writing story content, beginning with the images of Lotor smoking on his bike and Allura preparing to qualify. This tactic might not be for everyone just starting out, but writing a short promotional blurb/story summary can help you identify some initial parameters in terms of characters/conflict/setting. Having those basic parameters can then further target the types of images, dialogue, and scenes that make logical sense for introducing your story.

If you need more structure than just free-form writing or building off an image in your head, you can definitely use an outline to help you identify scenes or images that you’d like to try working on. While AR did not start off with an outline, it does have a plot outline now to help ensure I don’t drop something important. So I started bulleting ideas, trying to stretch out the story summary to its natural/logical end point.

An outline can help you write linearly if clear, concrete structure resonates with your brain. It can give you an opportunity to “preview” how a chapter opening can affect future events before you even write them, if you’re worried about where free-form-writing can take you. If you want to use an outline, it doesn’t even have to be all that elaborate. It can just be bullet points or explanatory sentences, or pieces of dialogue. It can be notes on a poster arranged in a spider web design. It can be a collection of gifs on your computer that signify the emotions you want to simulate in the story—it can be literally anything, and it can evolve too.

Paradoxically, writing an outline has also helped me move away from having to write individual chapters in a linear fashion, which is sometimes hard for me to do over a long course of time. So readers on AO3 might experience AR as a linear story, but I have dozens of pages of future scenes or bits of dialogue that I felt inspired to write over the last few years. Like, one major scene appearing in the most recent chapter 9, which published here in January 2021—it’s been written since July of 2019, lol. Using an outline to tackle a story can empower you to follow your bliss in a nonlinear fashion. For example, sometimes I’m more in a mood to write racing, and other times, I’m more emotionally invested in writing AR’s background drama or romance. If I halfway know where I’m going based on my outline, I can switch gears to write what I immediately want to write, and then I can later sew scenes and dialogue together later in a fairly smooth fashion.The concept of writing a chapter straight from start to finish just doesn’t have to constrain me with this method, and that’s critical for me. I understand having to trudge through writer’s block for a particular scene, but I like to minimize that pain as much as possible. And sometimes moving beyond that point can remove the writer’s block entirely.

Admittedly, the original outline I wrote for AR doesn’t match 1:1 to what’s currently written. As I started actually writing out scenes correlating to those bullet points on my outline, things changed. The space between bullet point 1 and bullet point 2 expanded with additional scenes, and those additions changed the details in the original bullet point 2. So my outline has gone through several tweaks as well.

This is the “organic” slop that can occur between your true written product and your initial assumptions for where the story should go. There are going to be plot milestones that you likely have to hit in order to achieve your end-goal/correct vibe with the story, but it’s totally okay to let your characters have a voice in how they get there. You might start an outline or a story assuming Road Trip A through the city is the best way to get to the end or achieve a certain vibe, but as your characters grow in your head, they might decide for themselves that Road Trip B through the mountains is the best way to the end. Once you set a story in motion, it’s no longer just you driving it. Your characters should drive the story too. Allowing them to do that will keep you emotionally invested and interested in the story. Sometimes, your characters will even write for you if you don’t know what to write. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure I’m in control of AR—I suppose I’m the navigator with a map sitting in the passenger seat, but I know I’m not the one holding the wheel, LOL.

And while we all do hope to create something quality that we’re immensely proud of, I do think it’s important to keep G.K. Chesterton’s thought in mind: “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.” In other words, the desire to create something immediately perfect with minimal effort can keep you from doing anything at all. It’s better to accept a messy first draft and to know you may have to revise later, than to sit in fear and end up writing nothing. And sometimes, your brain needs physical content to react to before you feel you’ve found the best option. Like, just getting content down to start with can change your whole perspective. You can revise and mold things as you get a better feel for what you want to convey. There’s always draft 2 for structural changes. Or draft 3 or 4 for polishing and getting a satisfying first sentence down. There’s no pressure to crank out a Pulitzer Prize Winner on a first draft or even after you publish something to a fanfic archive. This is fanfic. It’s supposed to be fun, at the end of the day. Let yourself enjoy the process of messy creation. Let your characters help you out. Don’t be afraid to revise or try out a few different things get to the vibe/end you really want. To do is to know.

If you’re still not confident in yourself or your abilities to make a critical design decision, you can always engage a beta reader or have someone listen to your ideas. Talking things out loud or reading your work out loud to yourself can help you process creative decisions in a new way! There’s also a significant difference between typing on a computer or writing things down on paper. Typing on a computer can take away the fear of permanence, while writing things down on paper can slow you down and make you experience each word more fully.

So I guess to wrap all of this up: I have a pretty fluid process, and I’m more worried about not creating at all than I am about screwing it up. Even a screwed-up work can teach you something and help you get somewhere better next time. And if you had fun making it, then maybe it wasn’t a screw-up at all! I really encourage you to soul-search on what gives you joy or excitement regarding this fic idea you have, and to hold on tight to that joy as you begin translating images in your head or outlining plot points, or something in between.

I hope something from this response helps you! <3

#Voltron #VLD #Adrenaline Rush #Fanfiction #Fanfiction writing #writing #writers of tumblr #writeblr #lightning rambles #it's hard to know how to start something #but it can be rewarding to jump into the challenge #I believe you can do it!#Best of luck on your first steps with writing fic!

9 notes · View notes