#lab pellets

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

"but donald forced them to eat pellets!" first of all, they seemed to enjoy the pellets while they had them, and guys...they probably continued to eat those pellets long after tasha and leo entered the picture. those bionics (especially adam and bree's) probably burn a lot of calories. their metabolisms are probably super high. the protein pellets were probably engineered specifically to provide enough nutrients and protein for them to grow and function well. yeah, real food is fun and tastes better, but in addition to not shocking their digestive systems, those pellets were probably essential supplements to ensure they were eating enough. and, since donald invented them himself, they're not buying suspicious amounts of food, either. it helps that the kids seem to enjoy them, though (they all cheered when donald brought up protein pellet smoothies in rats on a train)

[maretriarch]

as soon as i learn to drive i can start taking opening instead of midshifts which will free 2+ hours of walking commute to and from work which is 51 minutes each way if im not hauling ass, (45 if i haul and NO pokemon which is becoming a VICE) not including me changing in/out of my walking clothes vs work clothes, if i need to get any groceries or stop anywhere, do anything, etc) which will mean i can start going to the cheaper grocery stores instead of the ones closest by, i can start going to the gym bcs im averaging like leaving the house at 8:30am and coming back at 8:30pm and im just not good enough at my routine yet to like minmax the time requirements and this isnt even including like...hobbies including sitting down for the 40 minute 3d modeling tutorial which is bamboo torture and ive tried sitting down mu white ass down multiple times to watch it but i guess id (bumper sticker voice) RATHER BE LONG DISTANCE HAULING CANS OF GREEN BEANS HOME ON MY BACK

[ev1lde4d]

finally back on testosterone. my god

[libraryspectre]

I was pelleting virus. I've never done this. This is not something usually done in my lab. I checked the manual on the microcentrifuge and confirmed it could handle 20,000 gs WEEKS ago. But when I tried to actually run it that fast, it threw an error message.

Ok. Regroup. I checked every other centrifuge I have access too. Several others claim to be able to reach 20,000gs. On my fifth try I find a centrifuge that will actually do it. I set it to run for an hour and walk away victorious.

An hour later I return and open the lid. Immediately I see - or feel - a problem. The heat coming off of this thing is concerning. I have failed to notice that this centrifuge DOES NOT HAVE A COOLING FUNCTION. And I have been pushing it close to its limits for an hour. I take my tubes out and they are hot to the touch. THE PLASTIC HAS WARPED. My virus is certainly dead and I am an hour behind.

I start over and resign myself to a less powerful spin. 17,000 gs for an hour. Is this enough to actually pellet the virus? I don't know. No one can tell me. Google is not helping. I am late for lunch and so hungry I can't think about it any more. When I return, the pellet is of course too small to be visible, if it exists. I may have infected my cells with absolutely nothing. In recounting this today, I coined a new phrase that has spread across the lab: "I was so angry I had to go eat lunch"

THE CENTRIFUGE COOKED MY SAMPLES

[click4rainy]

Shang got a Rabbit…

👽: silly rabbit, he’s giving you kids! No…? Alright…

🖇️: Rabbit Hybrid/Demi Human!Reader x Shang Tsung

✅: Proof Read

⚠️: (N)SFW/AFAB!Reader/Captive x Keeper/Little bit of a slow burn/Soft power dynamic/implied breeding kink/Reader has rabbit traits (ears, tail, shorter build etc.)/Finger fucking/Table sex/cream pie/Smut stuff RAHHH 🗣️

★ Uncomfortable. The lab was sterile, cold, and unwelcoming. Perched on a steel table, legs dangling shyly over the edge, your posture was small—hunched slightly forward, arms tucked close to your sides. You were tired, wearing the day’s issued shift: soft blue, boxy, mid-thigh.

★ You were anxious, ears twitching atop your head in sync with your nerves.

★ Shang Tsung watched you with a scalpel-like gaze—sharp, cutting, clinical. But amused. “Oh, you are a delicate thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

★ You didn’t speak. Just blinked—wide-eyed. Like prey that freezes once the predator sees them. Corners them. Captures them.

★ He reached forward, gloved fingers brushing your chin. With a single knuckle, he tilted your face upward. You didn’t resist. Your nose twitched, ears drooping slightly at the touch. Curious. Submissive. Not broken….just used to fear. A docile little creature, caught and caged.

★ “You’re quieter than I expected. Most hybrids snarl, kick, bite.” He paused, tilting his head. “But you’re more prey than predator.”

★ His tone wasn’t cruel—just cold. Clinical, with a thread of entertainment. He was enjoying this more than he’d admit. He stepped closer, arms clasped behind his back.

★ Then, without warning, one hand reached out again, brushing your shoulder. His fingers trailed along your collarbone—light as air. You stiffened.

★ “Your musculature is humanoid,” he said, like dictating notes to a student. “But your build… mm. Light. Fragile. Not built for kombat. For running, perhaps.” He circled you, and you tried not to flinch.

★ “Your ears,” he continued, lifting one gently. The fur was impossibly soft. Your breath caught; the ear twitched in his grasp. You didn’t move—but you made a sound. A soft, involuntary hum. Barely audible.

★ He smirked. “How sensitive,” he murmured, intrigued. His hands moved to your legs. You jolted at the first touch but didn’t pull away. He pressed gently to your thighs, testing the muscle. Still detached—but closer now. Too close.

★ “Still,” he said, “I wonder how much of you is rabbit… and how much is—”

★ His fingers wandered too low. It was unintentional—he had been examining your spine. But instead, he found your tail. A small, velvety nub of fur. Soft and round, like a puff of cloud.

★ You squeaked. A sudden, high-pitched, innocent sound—startled and unbidden.

★ Shang Tsung froze. He hadn’t expected that. Your body curled inward, eyes wide, cheeks pink. And strangely—he felt heat rise in his own face.

★ Not much. Just a flicker of color in his otherwise composed demeanor. He withdrew his hand slowly, as if he’d touched something not just forbidden, but…. personal. “I see,” he said, voice notably lower. “Highly sensitive.”

★ Your ears drooped in embarrassment. You blinked up at him, watching as his eyes slowly traveled over you. Something shifted—a hairline crack in his detachment. You weren’t just a specimen. You had thoughts. Feelings. You squeaked when touched.

★ You were adorable. How troubling…

•••

★ You didn’t know when it changed. Maybe it was when his voice softened. Or when he started waiting until after you ate to touch you—never before. Maybe it was when he began bringing a blanket, draping it over your legs when the sterile chill of the lab made you shiver. But something shifted.

★ The next time he visited, he brought a small tray of fruit. Not food pellets or rations—real fruit. Sliced and arranged: figs, strawberries, watermelon cubes, and slivers of peach so thin you could see light through them.

★ “Eat.” He said simply, placing the tray beside you. You blinked up at him again—cautious. He watched as your hands, still resting timidly in your lap, slowly crept forward. Your fingers brushed a piece of peach.

★ “Wait.” His voice halted you. You froze mid-reach, eyes darting up to his. He leaned in, plucking the fruit himself. Holding it between two fingers, he lifted it to your lips. Your breath hitched.

★ “…Open,” he said—half suggestion, half command. You obeyed. Lips parting as he slipped the peach just barely past them, fingers brushing your bottom lip. You chewed in silence. He watched—just as silently.

•••

★ That evening was especially quiet. The air held a stillness—soft, heavy. You sat on the exam table, as usual, legs swinging idly. Shang stood before you, his gloves removed this time. Bare hands. He reached for your ears again, brushing one with his thumb and forefinger, rubbing slow, careful circles into the base. You would have purred if you could. So you leaned into his touch instead.

★ “You enjoy this,” he murmured—not a question. You nodded faintly. “It calms me…”

★ Shang’s gaze darkened—not with anger, but interest. “Of course it does. You were designed to be touched gently, weren’t you?” He leaned in, breath warm on your cheek, nose ghosting near your temple. You didn’t pull away.

★ His fingers trailed to your jaw, tipping your face upward. Your legs stilled. His knee now brushed between yours at the table’s edge, subtly anchoring you.

★ “Tell me if you wish to stop…” he said. It was the first time he’d ever said that. You blinked up at him, cheeks warm, your silence speaking in quiet consent.

★ That was all he needed. His mouth pressed to your neck—warm, deliberate. A low hum vibrated against your skin as he kissed along the curve.

★ “Skin temperature elevated,” he murmured against your throat, smug and amused. “Respiration uneven. Twitch response—intact.” He nipped you lightly, and you gasped. “Very intact.”

★ Your hands gripped the edge of the table—not out of fear, but restraint. Your ears twitched, now wildly, and he chuckled softly. “You hate how much you’re enjoying this,”

★ You did.

★ But you also loved being the only one allowed this. The only one not turned into a creature. The only one he treated like…like something more than a project. Something closer to a—

★ “What does this make you?” he asked suddenly, as if reading your thoughts. His tongue traced the place his lips had just left. “A failed test?” Another kiss. Slower. “A pet?” Another. “A partner?” You trembled. He felt it.

★ “…A pet partner?” he whispered with a grin you could feel. There was self deprecation in his tone, despite his words being directed at you. It was so wrong—all of it. And yet, his lips grazed just beneath your ear, nipping the lobe, making your whole body jolt. You leaned forward slightly, instinctively, as if your heart were reaching out before your pride could stop it.

★ He pulled back from your throat, only a breath away. His eyes scolded. His mouth hung open slightly, looking at you like he wasn’t sure whether to worship you—or ruin you.

★ He chose both.

★ “Damn you…” he growled, then kissed you. Not a question. Not a warning. A collision. Your gasp was swallowed as he pressed fully between your knees, the table biting into his thighs even more so, arms caging you in. Not with menace—but desperation. His hands—accustomed to dissecting—now clutched your waist like a lifeline. Your fingers gripped his robes, needing something to hold as the floor beneath logic gave way.

•••

★ His tongue teases—demanding entrance. You yield without hesitation, moaning into his mouth, drawing a shudder from his frame. Without preamble, he lifts you—effortless, precise—only to shift your weight slightly. The fabric of his robes drag between your thighs as he presses forward.

★ His hand slides up your thigh now—more confident, somehow more reverent. He palms your tail again, chuckling against your lips, the sound soft, almost affectionate. As though he’s grown fond of how sensitive you are.

★ As if he delights in being the only one who knows just how soft you really are. One hand cradles your cheek, thumb grazing over flushed skin. “I tried to be clinical,” he murmurs between kisses, breathless, “truly…”

★ “I studied you, dissected you in thought,” he continues, lips trailing along your jaw, then down your throat—biting this time, soft at first. “But you’re not a puzzle. Not a sample.” The next bite is harder, coaxing a whine from your lips as your thighs squeeze around him.

★ “You’re maddening.” He grinds into you now—deliberate, slow—and you feel every aching inch through your thin shift. It makes your back arch, your ears twitching in helpless response. He growls lowly, desperate for more friction. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he murmurs, lips dragging downward. “Hm… rabbit?”

★ You don’t answer. Not with words. You don’t trust your voice. Instead, you roll your hips forward—grinding against him, fingers curling into his hair, guiding his mouth back to yours.

★ This kiss is messier, hungrier. His hand slips beneath your shift—finally—touching you bare. He groans, low and primal, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re soft everywhere…” his fingers ghost between your thighs. You gasp, again and again. “Even here. And so wet—for me?” His grin is sharp, wicked. “From a kiss?”

★ Your legs twitch closed instinctively. He holds them apart with ease. “Ah-ah…” he chides gently, “let me see all of you.” His fingers slide along your slit—teasing, never entering. And you ache. Gods, how you ache.

★ But he doesn’t rush. Though he could. Though he wants to. He restrains himself, treating you like some delicate chotchkie—collected, preserved, treasured. No reason to damage what is so perfectly his.

★ Now you’re laid across the lab table, that irritating little shift shoved up over your hips. Your legs are parted by his palms, your tail twitching against the cold surface, soaked, trembling, laid bare beneath his gaze.

★ “Look at you,” he purrs. “Quivering like prey… but not running. Is this bravery, little rabbit?” His fingers trace the inside of your thigh, featherlight.

★ “No answer,” he croons. “Typical of you.” Two fingers slide just a bit deeper, dragging through your slick arousal.

★ You buck, your ears folding back in shame and longing. His thumb presses lightly to your clit—just enough to make you sputter, not enough to satisfy. “So sensitive here…” He rubs a slow, torturous circle before suddenly—finally—sinking two fingers into you.

★ You cry out, one hand clawing the edge of the table. He groans at the feeling—like your body wants him, recognizes him.

★ “Tight little thing,” he grunts, voice thick with hunger. “But a perfect fit, nonetheless—like you were bred for this.” Your body jolts. His smile turns devilish.

★ “Oh?” he hums. “That word makes you squirm, doesn’t it?” His fingers curl inside, dragging slow and cruel against your walls. “Don’t tell me… that’s what you want. To be filled? Claimed? Used?” His pace quickens slightly. Your thighs tremble. “You want me to ruin you, is that it?” His voice drops, breath ghosting your ear. “To fuck the science out of you—until all that’s left is instinct?”

★ You whimper. That’s all you can do. Head tipped back, lips parted, eyes glazed. Helpless under his hand.

★ “No wonder I spared you,” he growls, dragging his fingers out, spreading you with his thumb while gazing down at the glistening proof of your need. “You really are a pet. One that sits where I place you…. and shakes when I touch you.”

★ You moan again, hips rocking against his hand. Desperate now. Unguarded.

★ “Does that sound about right?”

★ You nod. Slowly. Ears drooped, eyes half-lidded, dazed by the cadence of his voice. He scoffs—disgustedly aroused, then slams his fingers back inside. Faster. Deeper. Possessive. Punishing.

★ He’s rutting against the table now, clothed shaft pressing into your thigh. The evidence of his own need—hard and impossible to ignore.

★ “I could breed you. Right here.” His voice is shaking. “On this damned table. Fill you so full you forget your own name.” His thumb never stops—faster, firmer now. Perfect. Your hips rock erratically—stuttering. You’re unraveling.

★ Before you can stop it—you break. Fast. Embarrassingly fast. His gaze sharpens, ravenous, drinking in every twitch and cry as you spill around his fingers.

★ Trembling. Locking. Clinging to him. You arch, ears flopped back, tail twitching uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop—he draws it out, rubbing you through it, curling his fingers deeper, plucking those needy, broken sounds from you.

★ Only when your body slackens, twitching in the afterglow, does he withdraw. His fingers are slick, glistening. He watches you with dangerous calm—then licks them clean, slow and deliberate. “Delicious,”

★ He doesn’t move. Not yet. He just watches—as if still deciding which part of you he’ll take next.

•••

★ It didn’t take long—his decision—after that. Robes discarded, his form now settled between your parted thighs, the heat of him almost unbearable. His chest is bare. You’ve never seen him like this…. unarmored. There’s something disarming about it—his body, sculpted yet strangely soft, human in a way he rarely allowed to show. But his eyes? Starving. Like he’s waited lifetimes to do this.

★ “This is what you were designed for.” His voice is low, cruel in its certainty. A sharp thrust against your core makes you cry out—his cock pressing hotly against your entrance. “To be bred. To be mine.”

★ You nod without thought. Not even trying to form words. You can’t, not when the truth of it is so blinding. Then—you actually comprehend seeing him. Hard. Heavy. Veined. The kind of cock that promises ruin. The kind that leaves its shape inside you long after it’s gone. Your breath catches just at the sight.

★ “Scared, little rabbit?” His grin is slow, feral. “Or just eager?” He slides forward, skin to skin, dragging his cock along your soaked slit. Just teasing, gliding over your clit with maddening precision. His restraint is hellish. Every pass makes your hips buck upward, pout building with every denied inch.

★ His breath shudders as he murmurs, taking in the pathetic little expression on your face. “I’ll give you what you want….but know this isn’t curiosity.” His cock notches your entrance, “Not some experiment. Not a game. You’re mine to keep.”

★ And in one single, devastating stroke—he’s inside. Fully. Completely. Stretching you to the core. A sound spills from your lips—raw, broken, unlike anything you’ve ever made. (You didn’t know anyone could pull that from you.)

★ Shang Tsung groans—a sound deep and low, something unholy. His hands slam down beside your head—dropping to his forearms, nose to nose and caging you in.

★ He stills, and lets you feel it—all of him. The thickness. The twitch of him inside you. His cock pulses, and you can feel his heartbeat through your walls. You’re shaking, overwhelmed by the utter fullness of it all. And then—he starts to move. And gods—does he fucks you.

★ Deep, grinding thrusts, angled to find that spot inside that made your foot thump. He grunts against your neck, biting softly at the same spot he had been abusing this entire time. Your legs wrapped around him tighter in response, his hips snapping harsher, pounding into you with more force.

★ “I’ll fill you,” he grits out. The table creaking beneath you, “You’ll take every drop—every inch. And when I’m done—when you’re leaking—you’ll still beg for more.”

★ He grabs both plush ears with one hand, tugging your head back. His mouth finds your throat again, then your jaw, your lips...

★ You were close. So fucking close…the tension curled deep in your belly—wound tight, about to snap. “You like this, Being my undoing….” He says, bittersweet with his tone. Like it was all your fault he lost his common sense.

★ It’s what makes you come a second time. To be honest. Just knowing how composed this man always is—yet with you—he’s an insatiable mess. You’re sobbing while clenching around him, fitted like a glove, body limp as you take him. One, two, three more aggressive snaps of his hips and he spills inside you. Deep, hot and endless. You feel it, ropes of him, thick and warm.

★ Filling you until it drips down your thighs. His teeth are in your neck like they belonged there and nowhere else. His hands in your hair, gripping your plush ears, voice shaky, strangled as he whispers praises in a language you couldn’t pin down. He stirs your insides, pushing to the hilt, and then some.

★ He stays inside you, breathing hard, body still shaking with the effort of not breaking you.

•••

★ He doesn’t leave, doesn’t dress, isn’t retreating. He’s staying right there, half-draped over your trembling body, one hand stroking the curve of your hip like you’re glass. He presses a kiss to your temple.

★ “I’ll clean you,” he murmurs. “Then I’ll feed you.” His fingers brush over your belly, as if to mark the warmth left inside.

★ You groan in embarrassment, ears flat against your skull and tail twitching in that all too familiar way. He just chuckles.

★ The two of you laid there dazed for a few moments longer, his hand on your thigh, lazily tracing patterns, his cum still dripping from you onto the table. You barely registered his soft promises of spoiling his pet rotten.

[lettingthoughtsflow]

in the first lab rats episode, Tasha is seriously disturbed when Adam, Bree, and Chase are first introduced. but it IS NOT because they're bionic. she's uncomfortable because there are three teenagers who have never left this lab in her basement. Her husband never mentioned them and probably wouldn't have if Leo hadn't found them. also, davenport doesn't acknowledge them as human, which is why it's so easy for him to dismiss the kids. Tasha is disturbed because these kids are trapped in this room, sleep in tubes, eat pellets, and only have one purpose and no freedom. within two or three days after meeting the kids, Tasha is ready to help Bree get ready for a party, reminded Davenport that they are teenagers, and told the kids to be safe and stay warm at Facility X. This woman saw these kids as growing teenagers in ~3 days, sooner than Davenport did in ~15 years

[the-lost-hidden]

Yippee! Thank you!

*two red eyes peer at you from the dark in the woods, their teeth chatter slightly*

W-what are you..?

-@the-lost-hidden

*I yelp a bit and jump back*

I c-could ask the same to you...?

[algea]

Ghoul School

prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.

Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL

warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!

a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…

*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*

“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.

“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,

“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.

“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.

"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.

"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.

"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.

"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.

"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,

"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."

You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.

"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.

"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.

"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.

"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.

To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.

“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.

“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.

“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.

Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.

“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.

The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.

“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.

You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,

“LARS!!!”

Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.

“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.

Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.

“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,

“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”

Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.

“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.

[returntosunder]

oH DW I LOVE TELLING PPL ABOUT MY AU!!!!!!

Rn I have a few designs!

Sans (or Romance/Roro across the multiverse) is going to get a remake someday but things like his leopard patterned fluff and his eyes will stay! You can Definitely see the Lust inspo more from him so his design is gonna change to fit the rest of the au! Everyone is fine tho!

First we have Flowey! Who iirc is a carnation! Might needa go through my sources again to fact check later but im 90% sure they are. I don't have much for them rn as I was mainly focusing on the others BUT they probably act more friendly as a way to trick Frisk, which means no Friendliness Pellets

TORIELLLL THE GOAT!!!! She's her usual compassionate motherly self so she fits right in with the au! No need to change her at all

(Skipping Asgore bc he's Important :3)

ASRIEL AND CARA, yes Cara, not Chara, bc i can :3

Their story goes on as normal, Cara falls down, Asriel saves them, they become apart of the family and after Cara falls ill they make a plan to free the monsters, as Cara wanted to give back to Asriel and their parents for giving them a home (didn't work obviously < :3)

BUT IF U CAN SEE IT Cara's soul has Faint cracks on them, That's bc it's meant to represent emotional and mental damage! Like Frisk, Cara has also had a hard time on the surface but Healed in The Underground. The deeper the crack, the worse the mental anguish is

Muffet and Nabstablook are pretty much the same to an extent. Muffet is still a greedy cheapskate who overprices her products but does it to help herself and her family of spiders who weren't as fortunate as she was, and Nabstablook is still Nabstablook<3

ASGORE IM MORE NORMAL ABOUT

Bc it plays into smth I added into the designs

I said that in this culture: the underground wears brighter colors with some darker ones. Usually it's not common to see a monster with darker clothes and they believe that a monster's clothes represents how they feel. That's the angle I was going with, with Frisk and Asgore! Frisk enters the underground with darker clothes and in Pacifist, their clothes get brighter as they heal! Asgore tho has the Most darkest color palette, and that's basically due to him abandoning ALL of his morals- the morals he once taught to Monster Kind, all to avenge his kids, and despite never wanting to go down this path, he feels as if its too late to turn back now so he fully embraces the darkness. His gold accents becoming dim and eyes red with Rage. And that adds a new meaning to the monsters calling him a "Lousy King", bc he rejected the same morals he once told.

SPEAKING OF GOLD ACCENTS! There's more reason as to why these characters have golden accents

You may or may not have noticed, but the gold is the same exact gold Cara and Asriel wear on their shirts and heart lockets! Most monsters have at least one or two pieces of golden accents on them to show how much Asriel and Cara's death effected them and their culture and how despite it being Years since it happened they never left their mind, still tho, they continue to preach about showing LOVE to the humans once they're freed, believing it'll unite their houses once more

And I have More that's not Drawn yet, as I still need to draw more characters (Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton and Papyrus are left and idk who to do first-) BUT i still have ideas....True Lab :3

I'll stop here for now so I dont bombard you with info and let you catch up!

YAYYY :DDD LITERALLY KICKING MT FEET WHEN I SAW MORE FOR THIS

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIER DESIGNS!!! THEY ALL LOOK SO FLIPPIN CUTE!!! I can see the lust inspo, but it's so pretty, and it doesn't take away from its originally. I love it omg!

THE BROKEN HEART AND DARKER CLOTHES ON ASGORE IS SO GOOD THO! I love the thing with monsters' clothes representing how they feel, Its really neat!! Omg I can't wait for the others design that you need to do :D

And all the monsters having some gold accents in their clothes cause of Asriel and Cara is so sweet in a way, showing that their deaths even affected the other monsters not just the main family is really nice, I really like that a lot

Im absolutely eating up this au. Please lmk if you even update this with more info or more monster designs ^^

[divinit3a]

Just wanted to stop by and share some appreciation! I truly adore all your work and AUs!! Especially the chimera alien AU!! (ALL TIME FAV)!!! I think about them a lot, especially the angst-potential... I love how they're so interested in Y/N and just the... like, the moment of connection between them all is all so intriguing. I want to know all about the world of the AU... *dreamy sigh* ...

R0B0S ;-; 💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 SNIFFLES 💚💚💚💚💚💚 WHEN I GET YOUUU 💚💚💚💚💚 RAHHHHH 💚💚💚💚

thank you!! seriously!! it means a lot, thank you for your kind words... 💚💚💚

it's been fun slowly stitching the world and a story together... there's so much I want to tackle and share in the future!!

a little writing tidbit for now... hehe 🫱

You sit in front of the specimen tank. You are tasked with its feeding today, for the first time on your own. The instructions are stamped within your mind.

The food is a high-protein pellet. The same tasteless morsel you've had the shame of eating while low on credits on other ships. It may be tougher than an asteroid rock, but it keeps you alive once digested.

The lights in the lab are kept dim. You settle in place. You put the small tray of pellets into a compartment up top and seal it closed. A safety timer runs. While that goes, you press a button that opens up the viewing hatch to let meager bits of light into the otherwise void-like darkness of the containment chamber.

You take in a deep breath, clear your mind, and stick your arms through the inset rubber gloves. The timer dings, and the food palette is available inside the chamber, where your hands, protected by military grade rubber, can reach it.

Inside, specimen 3-192114  is asleep. Or its version of it. The sight of the parasite reminds you of sea life on the pages of old books about ocean life on Earth. 

Starfish, the word comes to mind unbidden.

The thought that slips out stirs the specimen, though its eyes remain lidded and closed.

Staying calm after the blunder, you take the food into one hand. Instructions are to set down the tray, and observe the creature to ensure it has accepted, and eaten, all the food.

The alien is about the size of your head, give or take. Smaller than you initially imagined such high risk creatures should be, but perhaps manufactured by human intention. Its moving around, although rather slowly. All its tendrils move independently from each other as if lacking coordination whatsoever.

It creeps over to your hand holding the food, touching and feeling everything along the way. You go to set down the tray —

A tendril winds around the glove instead. You stay calm. And observe. It creeps up your arm, some of the tendrils remaining on the ground to set up a quick retreat. But it grabs the pellets one by one, a tendril dragging it to the center of its body, where you presume a mouth must be hiding.

It eats all the palettes fast. But then it continues to crawl around your hand, fastening to it, inspecting, as if more food can be scavenged. Cute, you can't help but think. You always thought the idea of animals or pets was so exciting and otherworldly. Hardly any Earthen animals were aboard the spaceships. The central hub had a few farming staples, but there was a rare amount of folks who owned pets.

The mistake alerts the aliens awareness at last. Magenta eyes blink open as it launches to the side of the tank where you sit. The eyes leer at you, willing you to look, look, look.

Remaining calm outwardly as your mind races, you take an arm out the gloves. And press the button which swiftly slams the observation hutch closed.

The pressure on your mind lessens and you let out a deep sight, leaning back.

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

even though they couldn't leave the lab, I like to think Mr. Davenport still put in effort to give them fun holiday traditions. they didn't have santa, but we saw that they had christmas. Donald setting up their presents while abc are asleep. Chase meticulously unboxing and organizing the decorations. Bree putting them all up with her superspeed and ability to climb ceilings.

and other holidays, no easter bunny myth, but egg hunts in the lab that encourage abc to work together. invisible eggs with heat signatures so Chase has to scan for them. others stuck in nooks high up so bree has to get them or Adam has to lift somebody. eggs hidden behind heavy things so Adam has to move them

halloween? silly hc that Donald invented the cyber mask partially so abc could pretend they were getting candy from different people. the candy was mostly protein pellets in different wrappers, but it was the novelty part of it that mattered (there was SOME real candy- Donald wasn't about to try to take some real candy away from them though, so a lot of it wasn't real candy to begin with. the last thing he needed was three BIONIC children with sugar highs, especially when one could LITERALLY bounce off the walls. besides, that was what the power pellets were for.)

[anonymous-dentist]

These anons keep forgetting that Lukey is a bioscientist which is different from a biochemist. There's not enough botany in this AU yet.

Give me semi sentient plants that have strong opinions on who waters them. Give me flowers that bloom in the wrong seasons and always for a certain someone. Give me a crown of thorns that move and shift and never prick their owner but also will hurt an enemy.

The crown of thorns eventually gets added to his actual villain outfit the longer he hangs out with the Pangolin and Mr. X in public. He might be the Hamster, but he also has a lab coat and a crown of thorns and a gun that shoots the common cold at you via little pellets that explode upon contact. Visible syringes on his belt filled with Biology

But he does have a soft spot for flowers thanks to a certain someone being his best friend for decades now. There’s a planter of poppies outside of Null Tower that never wither and can withstand the cold.

[homestuckreplay]

dave's gonna be pissed!!

(page 339-343)

I love when a story introduces a few separate and seemingly unrelated elements, and then gathers them all together in a neat conclusion that's even more satisfying because it's kind of unexpected. Homestuck does this on a really small scale - for example, the Sassacre book crushing the smoke pellets on p.96 bringing together John's sylladex accidents, the father-son prankster's gambit, and the two previous mentions of the Sassacre book's ability to crush things. But this is my favorite example yet.

A pattern is established with John and Rose that each character gets a command formatted as [strange noise/action] like a [creature] and [bodily function] on your [furniture]. Neither of these are relevant.

Dave's command is 'Bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable'. (p.315) but Dave 'would never consider allowing any fluid even remotely resembling urine to touch your beloved TURNTABLES.'

John gets a Little Monsters movie poster for his birthday and messages Dave about his favorite scene, where a monster pees in a kid's juice.

Later in the story, we see Dave find the bottle of apple juice in his closet that he found at the same moment that he was inspired to message John.

The Sburb Beta discs are established early on as a coveted item in the world of Homestuck, its importance increasing until it becomes the only item that can save the world.

Dave, who had a copy of this game before its true importance was established, reveals that he has lost it, and that 'its a stupid story and id rather not talk about it shit be embarrassing yo' (p.294)

All this comes together very delightfully when Dave finds himself unable to drink his unopened bottle of apple juice, unsettled by John's suggestion that a monster could reseal the bottle after pissing in it. He puts the juice back in his sylladex and immediately picks up another item, which forcefully ejects the juice, explaining the story of how Dave's game discs got damaged and fulfilling the prophecy of allowing a fluid resembling urine to touch his turntables.

This comic is basically engineered in a lab to be like one of those photo galleries of tiles that perfectly interlock and candy that's arranged in a perfect color gradient, it scratches the same itch. It's a storytelling technique that has infinite potential, but only works if it's spot on.

The Dave characterization here is really striking. Little Monsters is a movie where monsters under kids' beds are 100% real supernatural entities that make use of weird spatial/dimensional rules to play mean pranks on kids. Despite his obvious coolness and mastery of irony, and how dismissive he is of John's movie based interests. Dave can't shake the part of his brain that's like 'but what if monsters are real, what if there's one under my bed too'. I think he's like Rose in terms of meticulously constructing a personality that feels more 'adult', but their more childish aspects still slipping through the cracks (and nothing shows this better than their conversation on p.333 where they sound like they're rehearsing dialogue for the stage).

I've been thinking about John embodying characters from all his favorite movies, but maybe Dave is actually the Brian Stevenson parallel, right down to the sunglasses.

[specialagentlokitty]

Master chief x reader - my blood, your blood

Part 1:

Leaning back in your chair, you looked at the screen, the live footage of the mission that your fellow Spartans were on.

“I fail to see why you brought me here along to watch this.” You said.

The admiral looked over at you, then back to the screen she as watching.

“Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from the others about how to properly preform on a mission.”

You hummed a little bit, nodding your head.

“If I remember correctly I am not allowed to partake in missions because I am weak.”

“You are unstable, and until you can prove to us that you would not be a liability on the field you are to remain here on reach under the careful watch of your guards.”

You titled your head back, looking at the ceiling instead.

“(Y/N) it’s time for your tests, can you come with me?” Halsey asked.

You turned around in your chair, placing your hands on your knees as you pushed yourself up, trailing after the doctor.

You glanced down at her as you walked side by side.

“You know that pushing the admirals buttons doesn’t help anybody.” She scolded.

“Maybe not.”

“Then why do you do it?”

She led you through to the lab, pointing to a chair and you sat down, placing your arm on the table for her.

“I’m not sure, maybe it’s just for the reaction.”

“Your pellet is broken again.”

You glanced at the doctor.

“Your readings are all over the place, tell me how you keep breaking them.”

You shrugged again.

“Have you actually left it there this time?”

“Hm. No. I removed it. No point having a broken device in me.”

“It’s there to help you concentrate on missions.”

You slammed your hand on to the table, making a dent in the metal and Halsey spun around to look at you.

Your guards pointed their guns at you, reading to fire if she commanded it.

“I’m never going to go on a mission anyways!” You snapped.

Halsey sighed softly.

“You will, you just need to show the admiral you can follow orders (Y/N). This? This isn’t showing anybody you can follow orders.”

You raised your hands, and you placed your hand on the bottom of the dent, pushing it back into place then put your arm back.

Halsey walked over, taking some blood from you, and you moved your arm away when she was done.

“I can’t help it, I mean even if I could follow orders I’d never be able to go on missions like the others…” you mumbled.

“What makes you think that?”

You sat backwards on your chair, looking at her.

“I’m not as strong as the others. Im impulsive, I’m angry, I’m not a good soldier.”

“You are a good soldier, but if you know all of these why do you insist on making the same mistakes over and over again?”

You frowned a little bit.

“I can’t help it… I just… I’m just so angry all of the time and I don’t know why…”

Halsey turned around, bringing a chair over to sit in front of you.

“A lot of your angrier comes from the species you come from, you need to remember while the other Spartans are human, you’re not. In order to be able to weaponise their own blood your people used anger as their fuel.”

“But I’m not allowed to use that.”

“Which is why you need to learn how to control your anger before you go on a mission.”

“The others don’t accept me.”

“What makes you think that?”

You heard the door to the lab open, and you watched as the other four Spartans walked in, all of them taking their helmets off.

You got up, stuffing your hands into the pocket of your jacket, burying your nose into the fabric.

You glanced back at Halsey.

“I can tell.”

With that, you walked towards the doors, pushing past the group.

“You’re needed for debriefing.” Riz spoke.

You waved your hand dismissively at her, leaving the lab with your guards as you headed back to your bunk, standing in front of the door.

“I’m turning in for the night, please secure my door.”

“You are yet to have dinner.”

“Not hungry.”

They nodded, letting you step inside and the door shut behind you, a series of locks clicking and you walked over to your bed, laying down.

Resting your arm on your stomach as you stared up at the window above you, focusing on the moon.

At least they were nice enough to give you a room with a view, even if you were basically a prisoner here.

You were just waiting for the right time to leave, biding your time until you had everything finished and planned out.

You had narrowed the list of planets you species were from, and you had finally found one where they had come from, and there was going to be a mission there soon.

You acted like you weren’t paying attention when they all spoke, but you were, you were memorising everything they said, and you had memorised the dates they were going to this planet.

If you could sneak aboard the ship and sneak off, that was all you needed.

In just less than a week their mission would take you there and that’s where your freedom would begin, away from this, away from people that hated you, judged you, tried to control you.

You spent hours just laid there staring up at the moon as it slowly moved across the sky.

There was a loud beep that echoed throughout your room that let you know someone was at your door.

“What?” You asked.

The locks slowly unclicked, and the door slid open.

“You were supposed to report to debriefing.”

“I’m not an active duty Spartan so what does it matter if I attend the debriefing or not.”

“You are still expected to attend with the rest of us.”

He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him, and you heard the sound of a tray being placed down on your desk.

“I was told to bring you something to eat, and give you the results of the mission.”

You waved your hand dismissively.

“I don’t care about your results Master Chief.”

“You should, if you’re to come on missions with us one day you must know how we work.”

You rolled over on your side, turning your back to him.

“Get up.”

You ignored him.

“That is an order (Y/N). Stand up.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“I am your chief. Your superior officer.”

You turned over at this, sitting up and you rested your arms on your knees as you stared at him.

“You’re here to make sure I don’t get out of control, your job is to put me down if I do because I’m the failed Spartan experiment who didn’t die. Yet Halsey couldn’t have me killed because she was curious about how I work, about what I could do.”

“You’re unpredictable.”

“From what I’ve heard you’re getting to that stage as well sir.”

You spat that last word out, and he clenched his jaw, balling his hands into fists at his side.

“You need to control yourself.” He warned.

You slowly stood up, tilting your chin a little bit at him, eyes boring into his.

For a Spartan to stare at anybody like this was nerve wracking, but when it was somebody like you, somebody who could do what you could do, with that small amount of red melted in either (E/C), that would be enough to paralyse someone with fear.

“I will never be one of you. I know this.”

“You are a Spartan.”

“No I’m not! I will never be because even you lot are repulsed by me!” You snapped.

John took a step forward, and his whole body froze into place.

“Release me.” He warned.

You took a step forward and to took one back until he was finally standing on the other side of your door.

“I said I was turning in for the night, that means no visitors.”

“You know the rules about controlling blood!” He hissed.

“They said I wasn’t allowed to use mine, they never said I wasn’t allowed to use yours. They’ll never believe you either, so I win. Now leave me alone.”

You released your hold, grabbing the food tray you picked it up and tossed it back out at his feet, then slammed your door closed again.

John sighed heavily, picking up the discarded food tray.

“I don’t see why you bother, they’ll never be allowed outside this building.” Vennick said.

“Because they are still part of this team, even if they can’t come on missions. They could still help.”

“Do you think they’ll ever be allowed on missions?” Kai asked.

John turned to her, shaking his head.

“No.”

He gave your door one last look before he left, and you went back to planning your escape from this hellhole.

When the day came, you had to act quickly, telling your guards you were going for a shower just before the ship was due to take off.

That would give you half an hour, then you had to get to the shop before the Spartans which was easy enough.

Now it was finding somewhere to hide, which was a little harder but you spent a long time analysing this ship, and there a large enough gap just big enough for you to hide in behind some of the ships panels.

And that’s what you did, for the whole flight you were there, and you waited, heart pounding in your chest.

You could hear them talking among themselves, and you heard the sound of the ship landing, and then leaving.

Waiting a few minutes, you pushed the panel aside, and you jogged through the ship and out the open door.

Looking around, you noticed you were nearby what looked to be a city, so you jogged in that direction, trying to get to some sort of cover to wait out their departure.

It shouldn’t be long, because there was no way for them to know that you were there.

Except john.

He knew the whole time that you were there, and he had been given separate orders by Halsey.

He was trailing behind you, waiting until the pair of you were far enough away from the others, then he finally raised his gun.

“Petty officer (Y/N) 027, stand down!”

You stopped running, slowly turning around, keeping your gaze fixated on the puddle underneath your foot.

“You are to return to reach and face the consequences for deserting your post.”

You slowly raised your gaze to him, and the corner of your mouth twitched up in a smirk.

“You armour doesn’t protect you.”

Behind your back you balled your hand into a fist and he was tapped, unable to move or fight back, and you unballed it, knowing you had complete control.

“This is where my life begins, outside the UNSC. My life. Not there’s.” You said lowly

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Marina; obligatory sugar baby Kon. ( + non-chrono link for mobile. )

“Um . . . right,” Suzie says quietly, and . . . well, he just thought it: she's a secret herself. 

Tim definitely needs to just take over whatever neighborhood he buys Kon a cul-de-sac in. Or maybe just, like, the entire tri-state area. Get Suzie a little place of her own, maybe, with an actual living space in it. She doesn't have physical needs like the rest of them do, no, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't have anything. Like–he doesn't know, whatever girls like. Stuffed animals and her own TV and a place to keep, uh . . . okay, Suzie doesn't need batarangs or a place to store smoke pellets and caltrops or grappling lines or work on her equipment or anything like that, but still. It's, he doesn't know–the principle of the thing, or something. 

He's gonna have to work on his trust fund budget a little, maybe. Ridiculous as it is, buying an entire tri-state area would definitely put a significant dent in it. 

“Suzie,” he says. “Are you . . . alright here? When the rest of us aren't around?” 

“Yes?” Suzie says, looking confused again. That was probably an unfair question on his part, Tim thinks. It's not like she really knows what he means by “alright”.  

Kon didn't either, after all. 

“I mean–it's not too lonely?” he asks. 

“Oh,” Suzie says, then bites her lip. “Um . . . I mean . . . I'm fine, yes! You don't need to worry about me!” 

Maybe this is a Bat thing, but absolutely nothing has ever worried Tim more than hearing “you don't need to worry about me” from someone. 

“Okay,” he lies, and smiles at her. “But you know you can call us if you want to make plans sometime, right? You don't always have to just wait for us to show up.” 

Suzie looks at him for a long moment, then–well, she doesn't turn pink, exactly, since that would require blood and veins and actual skin instead of smoke, smoke, and more smoke, but he's pretty sure she blushes all the same. 

“Oh,” she says. “Um–right! Yes. Yeah. Yes.” 

Tim smiles at her again, trying to be–he doesn’t know, reassuring, maybe. Something to the effect, at least. 

“Good,” he says. “It’s good for the team to spend time together outside of emergency situations, anyway. We can’t only hang out during crisises and expect to work well together, you know? So it’d be helpful to have an extra excuse to, really.” 

“Right!” Suzie says, beaming at him, which hopefully means that implying she’d be doing something good for the team by asking for attention when she feels isolated or lonely worked. 

Tim really doesn’t know why he didn’t think more about her living situation before this, but to be fair, he also thought about literally no one’s living situation before Kon just casually announced that he lived in an ethically-dubious cloning lab that wasn’t paying him, so . . . yeah.

Definite oversight. Definitely a thing to pay more attention to in the future. Just–definitely. 

Several kinds of definitely.

[agaypanic]

Reader is Chase’s best friend and Bree has a massive crush on her and everyone teases her about how obvious it is to everyone (except to reader who’s oblivious but reciprocates her feelings) maybe reader is very affectionate with her friends and seeing her with Chase makes Bree confess out of jealousy.

Very 2 idiots in love brothers best friends vibe 🫡

I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (Bree Davenport X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Everyone knows that Bree has a crush on Chase’s best friend, except for his best friend. 

***

There were many things that Bree had to look forward to ever since Mr. Davenport let her and her brothers out of the basement. She got to go to school and socialize, she had a phone, and she no longer had to strictly eat power pellets.

But the best thing that came out of leaving the basement was you.

You were in all the AP and Honors classes. So, of course, Chase was the first Davenport you met. The two of you quickly hit it off, becoming best friends. One day, when Chase said he was having a friend over, everyone thought it was a joke.

When you showed up at the front door, Chase’s siblings were a bit stunned. One, because he had an actual friend who was willing to be around him outside of school. Two, because that friend was a pretty girl.

You and Bree hit it off right away. She was so happy to have a girl friend, especially when she had spent literally her entire life around boys. You were so sweet, always down to hang out with her when she wanted to do something. Although Chase was your best friend, you grew very close to his sister.

It led to her developing feelings for you, which she didn’t know how to handle. She didn’t want to say anything for fear of you rejecting her and leaving. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but space out and stare at you from afar, trying to memorize every detail of you.

“You staring at her all the time isn’t gonna do anything,” Leo said, startling Bree out of her trance. You were on the couch studying with Chase, and Bree didn’t know how, but you somehow looked even prettier today.

“I’m not staring,” Bree mumbled, taking another glance at you from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, you are.” Adam laughed, grabbing something from the fridge. “It’s, like, so obvious that you like her.”

“Shut up, Adam.” Bree hissed. The last thing she needed was for you to overhear this conversation. She looked over at the living room to see if you and Chase had caught wind of what was being said, but she saw something even worse.

While Chase was going over something in your textbook, you leaned against him and rested your head on his shoulder. Chase put an arm around you as you were getting comfortable in this new position. You both continued studying as if this was normal. Sure, you were affectionate with friends, but Bree had never seen this before.

Suddenly upset, Bree stormed off down to the lab. Leo and Adam tried to stop her, but she didn’t listen. And she was too busy trying not to look at you and Chase that she didn’t see that you were watching her leave with a concerned look on your face.

She shouldn’t have been surprised to see you and Chase be so cuddly. You and Chase made sense together. You were both insanely smart, and meshed together well. And she wouldn’t be surprised if Chase had a crush on you. Although, it would baffle Bree a bit if you had a crush on her brother. You could probably do better.

Bree felt selfish to think that she was what’s better.

“Bree?” You startled the girl with your presence. You slowly approached, seeing that she was upset. “You okay?”

You had only been in the lab once before. One day, Chase and Adam were fighting before you had arrived to hang out, and bionics got involved. When you opened the front door, you missed the laser Adam had blasted at Chase from his eyes by a second, and only because Bree used her super speed to get you out of the way. You demanded an explanation, and the siblings told you about their bionics.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bree responded, clearly not fine. You sat on the stool next to her and nudged her.

“You sure?”

She nodded, but you weren’t convinced. You wished she would tell you what was wrong, wanting nothing more than to make her feel better.

“So…” Bree said, and you perked up, showing that you were listening. “What’s up with you and Chase?” The question confused you.

“Nothing, I think. Why?”

“It’s just… I’ve seen you guys be all cuddly and close and stuff.” Bree played with her fingers, trying to distract herself from looking at you. “If you guys are together, you can tell me. You know, since we’re friends and all.” She said ‘friends’ in a somewhat bitter tone, which you picked up.

You laughed loudly, the thought of you and Chase together seeming absolutely absurd. Bree frowned, confused by your reaction.

“Bree, I don’t like Chase like that. Never in a million years.” You laughed some more, making Bree relieved. “It’s nice that you care about my love life, though. You’re a good friend.” You patted her shoulder, and she made a sour face at the word ‘friend.’ You noticed and tilted your head. “Anything else on your mind, B?”

“I don’t wanna be your friend,” Bree said abruptly, her jealousy and slight anger giving her the courage to look at you. You were clearly taken aback, and Bree realized how that could be taken the wrong way, but it didn’t falter her expression. “I really like you, Y/n. Like… like you, like you. And I don’t like you being all cuddly and cutesy with Chase because-”

“Because you want me to be cuddly and cutesy with you?” You asked. Bree couldn’t tell if the small smile on your face was a good or a bad sign. Either you were smiling because you reciprocated her feelings or because you were about to laugh in her face.

“Yeah…” Bree said, much more quietly than before. She looked down at her lap, cheeks hot with embarrassment. She probably just ruined your whole friendship because she couldn’t take seeing you around her brother anymore. Bree felt so stupid.

But she was quickly distracted from mentally berating herself by you grabbing her face in your hands and putting your lips on hers. It was a simple kiss, but it still made Bree dizzy.

“I don’t wanna be your friend, either.” You muttered against her mouth before giving her another kiss.