#dannsa dotair. beverly

[cptjeanluc]

@dannsa-dotair asked:

❛ i am deathly afraid of almosts. ❜

Truthfully, Jean Luc hadn't looked away from Beverly in quite some time, but that admission renewed his attention. They were trapped, shuttle craft damaged, and while rescue was likely on the way, it would be hours yet. This was, he supposed, exactly the right sort of time for this sort of conversation.

"More afraid of almosts than of regrets?" Jean Luc had often struggled with the opposite problem.

[moonshadowed]

@dannsa-dotair​ inquires:  [ DISCUSS ]

’ THINGS DONE WHILE DANCING. ‘ always accepting.

He’s never liked Starfleet functions. He can put up with them for a short while-- a polite smile, a friendly nod here and there, attempting to drone out the idle chatter of the day-- but when it was a days-long event such as this, he often wishes for anything to take him back to the quietude and relative safety of the Enterprise and let him escape his torment.

At least he’s not alone this time. Beverly is here, suffering in this heretofore undiscovered circle of hell with him, and while he always is appreciative of her companionship, he feels all the more thankful for her presence when she grasps him gently by the hand, pulling him upright and toward the dance floor, away from the admirals and their petty gossip. His heart lightens with every step they take. 

Dancing doctor she may be, he finds himself falling comfortably into the rhythm of the steps and the music, one of his hands clasped in hers and the other hand resting on her hip. 

“I’m very grateful for your rescue,” Jean-Luc begins, “though, do I take it you’re just as bored by this as I am?” he inquires, eyebrow raised and a teasing smile playing across his features.

[colnerys]

I LOVE THIS MEME PLEASE, accepting.

blood blooms from the lacerations atop her knuckles. fists clenched raw, trembling as the dull pain shoots through her arm. boxes of empty metal cargo containers dented and bloodied as she pictures the face of that cardassian she’d met earlier. 

she remembers being six years old and taking her little brother, reon, to look for food for their starved family —— then it’s a chilled shiver running up her spine as she remembers everything vividly. eyes shut tight, tempering the panic that threatens to rise as her heart refuses to settle despite her best effort to calm herself. kira throws another punch, as the panic of watching her little brother cry out of fear sickens her. 

then as if her throat’s closing, as if her hair’s being pulled out —— nerys cries as if she was that terrified child being threatened to be sent to an orphanage by the very same cardassian present at the conference. he was younger but just as dubious. through the midst of her sobs, she still has the will to stand and bludgeon the object. 

but before she could throw another punch she hears foreign footsteps and immediately stops. glassy doe eyes look at the general direction of the fiery red hair. tears stain her cheeks with dried up patches of blood rusting at the corners of her lips. 

kira wants to speak. kira wants to protest as @dannsa-dotair​ approaches. kira desperately wants to persuade the other that she’s fine —— after all, what sort of commanding officer breaks down at the sight of a species that’s exploited her people? she doesn’t have a monopoly on trauma. 

pull away. pull away, nerys! her head bows, burying her face against the crook of beverly’s neck. kira sobs and whimpers some unintelligible words.in spite of everything —— nerys knows that deep down, she needs comfort. 

❰❰ PANIC ❱❱   sender comforts the receiver as they have a panic attack or get overstimulated

[alyafae-a]

Even at her very young age there are few things she is truly afraid of. Some of those thing seem far more reasonable than others but it’s not like she makes the rules.     . . .      “ want me to spray the monster under the bed? ” Beverly ( @dannsa-dotair​ ) asks with a gentle voice and Lucille pulls her blanket up a little higher     . . .     The mere idea that there could be a monster under her bed  —  no matter how small or big it might be  —  is just painfully disturbing. Enough to keep the young girl awake for most of the night until she would fall asleep from exhaustion. And in the morning, things wouldn’t be any better either.    “ Oui Maman, ”    she eventually whispers pulling up her legs as she carefully watches her mother. Lucille doesn’t miss out a single step as if she’s mentally preparing to do all this herself when she’s older so she doesn’t need her mother to look out for her as much anymore. ( If only she had known that two years from now on she wouldn’t even believe in those monsters anymore. )

Impatiently, she begins to shift on top of the bed before she carefully moves to the edge to peak over it and look down.    “ Is it a big one? Does it want to eat me? ”    The girl gasps, quickly leaning back again to lie in the middle of the bed. Her fear is ridiculous. Even if there as a monster and it would try to eat her once she’s asleep, she knows that her mother would be there to rescue her the moment she calls out for help.    “ You won’t let it, right? ”

[fatalelity]

there’s been this virus that’s affecting all the humans on the ship — the amount of people she had to relieve from duty in itself would be a lethal drinking game ... not that dr. montgomery partake in games like that —— at least, not anymore.   it seems that her & other human hybrids had a genetic safeguard.  still a mystery nonetheless,  a vaccine still seemingly lightyears away from production — addison can only be grateful that the symptoms only mirrored the flu  (  of course, she’s already attempted the old fashioned treatments — no effect, obviously  ).   

standing in beverly’s quarters, addison’s pulling out an assortment of items from her bag —— anything ranging from medical equipment to her personal skin care masks & balms & a strange assortment of nail-polishes.  evidently, she hasn’t been spending much time in her own quarters as indicated by her external hobbies mixing with her medical supplies. 

❛  i  …  really  don’t  feel  so  hot  .  no  ,  not  like  that   —  shut  up  .  ❜    @dannsa-dotair​  protests. 

addison only offers a raised brow before a sly smirk before finally grabbing a hold of her tricorder after rummaging through her uncharacteristically unruly pile of stuff. checking beverly’s temperature, she could help but to press the back of her hand against the warm forehead. 

“  you’re right ...  ”   addison almost murmurs as she stops, her palm cupping her face.   “   you’re burning.   ”

[iamselfmade]

@dannsa-dotair  liked this for how Hugh feels about Beverly

There had been Geordi when Hugh was becoming an individual, and his presence had been reassuring and safe.

But there was also Beverly. The first to see someone worth saving in Hugh, the first to care about him and his well being, the first to see him as a person, the first to honestly look at him and see Hugh and not a monster (or a monster’s arm or leg).

She was, he mused, the closest thing he had to a mother. She taught him, gave him words for what he was feeling, was sweet and gentle and kind and all sorts of things he’d never experienced before.

She had been against the virus from the start (unlike Geordi, who made it, how could he? how could he?). She truly loved him, Hugh thought.

And he loved her.

Dearly.

She was one of the only people that had truly never tried to hurt him. The swell of joy and affection he felt when he thought of her was overwhelming at times. He loved her so incredibly much it felt almost too powerful. The knowledge that someone had cared about him from the moment she set eyes on him...? Hugh could cry, it made him so happy.

Part of him wanted to ask her to help with his deassimilation surgeries, but the rest of him didn’t want to be a bother. But he trusted her entirely, which was something special because he’d learned, painfully, that he couldn’t entirely trust someone. Except for Beverly. The crew of the Enterprise had all betrayed him with that virus... except for Beverly. Doctors regularly tried to hurt him... except for Beverly.

He remembered learning about Mother’s Day and wondered if it would be crossing a line to send her a message... Maybe one day he’d feel brave enough.

[alyafae-a]

"You don't have to keep it all in."  Beverly ( @dannsa-dotair​ ) assures him but René has been so used to keep things to himself, keep it private. Even with his family.     . . .     But there are certain things, and he knows this is one of those things, that are meant to be shared in order to deal with them. And while he trusts his father, he would only ever willingly share this with his mother.    “ Oui, I know. ”    His accent is still a little thick, but it is actually something he is proud of. Thinks it gives a nice touch to his voice. Besides, he spoke French far more than he would speak Federation Standard. 

“ There is something I could use some help with. ”    And he hates to admit it, because this is something he should be good ( better ) at. Surely, his mother would be able to help him, though. She’s always had advice when he or Lucille were in need.    “ I’ve been thinking about this for some weeks now and I am stuck. ”    He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his seat.    “ A proposal. But I can’t figure out what I should do. If I should keep it simple or make a big deal out of it. I could use some help. ”

[alyafae-a]

happy anniversary to Beverly ( @dannsa-dotair ) and Deanna ( @aempathie ) !!

[fatalelity]

sometimes when the uniform comes off & synthehol is consumed,  it’s as if the failsafe in her brain — preventing her from being an utter fool — shuts down.  a night with a klingon man & woman whilst thrilling,  is also a decision that she’s come to regret more than that one alcohol induced hangover she had when she was a first year cadet.  thankfully, it’s early enough that no one is going over to the sickbay for their check ups —— and knowing beverly, she’s most likely fixated on some project or asleep at her desk. 

the moment she hears the hissing of the doors, she finds a look of regret creeping onto her face. addison is by no means a prude,  but 0500 hours is a little too early to explain her little escapade to anyone. but she needs that hypospray,  oh she needs that dermal regenerator from that bite on her back. 

“   okay, before we play fifty questions — i ... i think i dislocated my left shoulder a-and pulled some muscles ... also i’m bleeding on the back & i can’t reach it so ...   ”

@dannsa-dotair