another sigh echoes through the room, interrupting your paperwork as the hard cover of a textbook thumps against satin sheets. glancing up from your spot in his desk chair, your brow furrows as damian takes what might be described as the most irritated breath in the world.
"what's wrong, dami?" setting your laptop onto his desk, you groan as you transfer yourself from the uncomfortable chair to the dark green sheets covering his bed, sprawling out and resting your chin on your hands.
"i am meant to be studying nerves in the face for this case of severe lockjaw. i can't visualize the hinge of the jaw, and i do not mean to be upset," he mutters, hand running down the side of his face with aggression. "the patient had no past record of trauma, and the temporomandibular joint works perfectly fine, but-"
"the nerve could malfunction, even if the joint works fine," you perk up, beginning to trace your own jaw, feeling the smooth bone under warm skin.
a beat. then, damian sits up, zoned in on your skin as you run over it again. "come here."
scooting closer, you take his fingers and guide them to the spot under your jaw where the nerve would be located. you can feel his cool gaze on your face, curiosity filling the space between them.
"if the temporomandibular joint is here in working order," he whispers, leaning in as his fingers drag along your skin and up to the spot just before your ear, observing as you open and close your mouth slightly, eyes glued to his. you hear the breath pass through his lips before you feel it gently caress your skin. "then it is possible that the trigeminal nerve keeps firing."
"my guess is the v3, mandibular nerve branch, is damaged, otherwise you'd have jaw twitching, don't you think?" you hum, cheeks flushed as his palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb brushing against the edge of your jaw with a gentleness you haven't seen before. almost absent-mindedly, you lean into his touch, settling against the coolness of his skin.
"exactly. so we can fix it with a surgery." damian nods slowly, as he lets out a disbelieving, almost silent laugh, "you even demonstrated for me, you think i would've thought of that. thank you, amar."
relaxing, you nod back, "y'welcome, dami," reaching for the textbook he threw in a huff, flipping through with a fervor as you pull away from his touch. what was that about? "let's see if i can find you an operating method too...."
next
a/n: here she comes world, be nice to her! legit kind hate how this turned out but hopefully it's one of many to get better with. mind you they both graduado from the same med school and reader knows more than him. go girl go. yes this is based off of a tiktok, yes it's so medical jargon heavy, yes I'm gonna go write another one and hope it gets a lot of traction, yes I might make this a series.
(So sorry I haven't posted in a while! I've been super busy with crap lately. I've also been lacking inspiration to write lately. Tech has really been taking it out of me lately.)
The previous argument and harsh words exchanged by you and your closest friend, a damn robot, played back in your mind as you stared down at the glass of alcohol in your hand. You frowned, tapping your nails against the glass. Soft tinks echoed quietly through the mostly desolate bar. You really didn't want to think about it, and you thought maybe a few drinks would help you forget for a while. But nope!
With a heavy sigh, you slumped down onto the bar counter. Your cheek rested against the cool tile, sending a soft chill down your back. You and your bossy robot, Yes Man, had a small trist earlier today. Well...not quite small. It had gotten rather explosive rather quickly. Perhaps over reaction from both parties, but with Yes Man's new assertiveness upgrade, you two have had more disagreements.
As is the nature of such an upgrade, you supposed. You still really liked being around him though! There was just a bit of tension between you two, and it overwhelmed if you thought about it too much. You were just...always so worried he'd leave you like everyone else has. No one came looking for you when Benny put a bullet in your skull except for a damn cowboy securitron sent by a man who only wanted to use you for his own gain.
You were glad you took a damn crowbar to Mr. House's shriveled up body. Fuck ass old man. (I love him) But that, combined with the brain damage you suffered from that cursed bullet....it rattled your mind a little. You were more anxious, less focused, needed more reassurance, and acted impulsively more than you would've liked. You groaned, burying your face in your arm. The rusty metal of your stolen arm guard was solid beneath where your forehead was resting. Perhaps the only solid- stable- thing in your life...
You hummed as you lifted your head again, feeling a little dizzy. Finally. The alcohol was setting in...perfect. Everything was a bit of a blur from there. You didn't remember drinking so much afterwards. You didn't remember leaving the bar. And you especially didn't remember returning to The Lucky 38. You giggled as you stumbled into the building. A securitron rolled over, prepared to support you if you took a tumble. "Good evening-" It greeted.
You cut the thing off. "Shussssh! Th-the...dogs are sleeping...~" What dogs? You didn't know. You just giggled, damn near falling over as you did so. You ended up having to lean against the robot beside you until you steadied yourself. Once stable, you stood up straight and patted its head...or whatever counter as its head. "You're a gooood man. A handsome man~" You snickered and gave the securitron a playful salute. "Thank you f-for your service..." And with that, you crossed the room to the elevator. You jammed the button for the top floor, the penthouse, only having one thing in mind...or rather only one person.
A ding announced your arrival, but it appeared no one was there to see or hear it. You stepped out on the balcony and move over to the railing, dramatically leaning against it as you looked down at the monitor. No sign of your beloved securitron...the screen displayed that familiar [Signal Lost] message. You felt a pang of anxiety, of doubt. He'd be back, right? Right...? He wouldn't leave you, would he? No, no, no. He's stuck in the mainframe. The bots wouldn't work if they weren't connected to the signal. He couldn't go anywhere...at least not far. He couldn't leave Vegas.
"Yes Man...?" You called out, walking on unsteady legs to the top of one of the two staircases leading to the control panel down on the level below. When the screen flickered back to life, the relief you felt was immeasurable. He's here! He's still here...you knew he wouldn't go anywhere. You were ecstatic and quite happy to see him. "Yes Man!" You exclaimed. You soon felt your previous easy, drunken smile returning.
In your excitement, you rushed down the stairs to his screen. You, miraculously, didn't roll an ankle or die. Once you finally reached him, you crawled onto the long desk beneath the array of the screens and monitors to be closer to him. "Yessie~! Hello, baby!" His little animated expression showed him with furrowed brows and a faint frown that nearly copied yours from earlier at the bar. He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to understand this sudden drastic swap in behavior. For someone who called him excruciatingly clingy and overbearing just hours earlier, and even told him off because of it, you were being awfully clingy yourself.
"Courier. While I'm glad to see you're alright after such-" He searched for the right word for a few moments. "-intoxication..., I believe there are still matters to discuss." Yes Man found himself trailing off as you set your palm against his green tinged screen and sighed deeply. You took his sigh as a good thing, and your grin grew a little wider. You chuckled and tapped your hand against the monitor, some random rhythm. You were clearly too drunk to listen to any rational things Yes Man had to say. And that was further proven by your next words.
"Hmm...you're so...agh. Y'know? Agh? Like, agh as in; you're so hot, I'm gonna eat drywall. Like...y-yeah! That! Heh, sexy robot...such a sexy robot. It's n-not fair, y'know?" You leaned your head against him now. "I sound so silly. Hehe...~" You were just rambling, slurring together whatever thoughts came to mind. Yes Man was VERY caught off guard by your...display of affection. What in the world were you going on about? Him? Sexy? Securitrons weren't built to be-...well, Mr. House did have an odd relationship with one of his securitrons...Yes Man simply kept quiet for once. He was searching his data bases for any possible way to understand why you were drunkenly flirting with him now.
"Yessie? B-babes?" He hummed- or at least made whatever type of sound he could resembling a hum- letting you know you had his attention. "M'sorry..." You admitted softly, catching the bot off guard. You felt sorry for the argument earlier. Sorry for storming off to go drink away your anger. Sorry for calling him clingy when it was one of your favorite things about him. And sorry for assuming he would leave you, even if you never voiced your worries about it to him directly. You felt guilty for thinking he cared about you so little when you were clearly his whole world. Or at least a decent portion of it.
You sighed and lifted your gaze, looking up at his big eyes. You noticed the minute change in the animation displayed and smiled. You knew he wasn't mad at you anymore, but he was still a little grumpy...judging by the static emitting from his speakers. His version of grumbling under his breath. So, what did your drunken mind think to do in a last ditch attempt to cheer him up? Well...you leaned forward a little and kissed the monitor. His monitor! He was quite caught off guard by the gesture, and it showed on his expression. His eyes were now wide, and a little digitized blush decorated his cheeks. You grinned, feeling quite proud of yourself.
You sat there expectantly and Yes Man eventually found his words. "I-...I forgive you." Smooth. "Uuh...I suppose we both overreacted a little?" You nodded wordlessly and kissed his screen again. The digital blush increased. You laughed and began to shower his screen in smooches. He glitched out a little for a second, then came to in a fit of laughter. Good, he was feeling better. "Courier! I think that's quite enough!"
"Nu-uh!" You giggled, "No such thing as enough kisses!" You objected, your words still slurring from your earlier alcohol consumption. "More kisses!" You exclaimed as you rose to stand atop the desk so you could reach more of his screen, placing your hands against the monitor for support as you continued your barrage of affection. "Be careful, courier." Yes Man warned, not wanting you to fall. You ignored his warning, doubting you'd topple over. Besides, you had other things to focus on at the moment. You had to make it up to your favorite robot.
Yes Man's laughter and your's filled the room as you smothered him with your drunken kisses...
In the Wilson-Parker household (apartmenthold) it's not uncommon for Wade to go on sleep strike.
It usually starts with a bad dream, almost always from his past, even more commonly from his childhood. It's the kinda dream that when you wake up, you can still smell and taste the environment that you were in.
Wade will not sleep after that. He doesn't actually need sleep, similar to how he doesn't need food, or oxygen, or all the blood in his body. If avoiding Those Feelings again means withering away into a pile of mush and regenerating afterward, that's fine by him.
The record for the amount of time with no/minimal sleep is probably the time he went 6 days with a cumulative 7 and half hours of spotty naps in between. The thing about Deadpools sleep strikes, though, is this, when Wade doesn't sleep, neither does Peter.
Peter already doesn't sleep a healthy amount or even close to the bare minimum amount, and he easily rolls downhill with Wade. Unhealthy solidarity style.
Sometimes, when the strike starts, Wade loses his stubbornness and curls up in the corner of his ridiculously plush couch and gives in to rest. Other times, it's a pitiful battle, not unlike a toddler refusing vegetables. Day one is more of the sale Deadpool humorous deflection and manly pouting, but after the day 5 mark, he's hardly coherent.
He sits and stares at nothing, occasionally nodding off and mumbling responses to words that aren't spoken. Peter is there to sit and stare as well, stare at Wade, and hope beyond hope that he finally passes out or learns how to finally voice his thoughts and move on from the dreams. He never rushes him, though. He's all too familiar with the want to avoid the influx of images and thoughts that turn your stomach inside out.
As long as he can keep his boyfriend fed and watered and at least semi-comfortable, he feels useful.
Sometimes, it ends with Wade falling asleep on accident, usually while sitting against the wall - arms crossed. Sometimes, he'll literally collapse, his body deciding enough is enough, and it takes a good minute for his heart and lungs to shake loose again. And rarely, Peter will rest his head on Wade's shoulder for a minute or an hour and mumble
for as long as we’ve been together, i have never seen my sister jump; she’s seen me jump (poorly, i may add), but somehow her verticality eluded me for well over a year
yet, on one whimsical morning celebrating the anniversary of my birth, my sister—engaging with the morning energy—decided to jump across 3 slabs of concrete on the sidewalk
immediately, i noticed this. she’s been hiding this from me and teasing me about it for 18 months, and all it took was one little joyous slip-up for the facade to crumble
when i read more of the httyd books, i wish they added camicazi into the movie. like i love and ADORE astrid so much, and i know it wouldn’t work since cami isn’t apart of berk, but i feel like it would’ve been cooler to see her. it would be so funny to see her in armor when they were in rome and bickering with hiccup, and also, i wish in another life the movies would be canon to the books because wdym that hiccups a scrawny, ginger, 10 year old little boy, snotlout actually not hated for once, and gobbers actually a jackass? complete polar opposite from the movies, i still love them tho
I am going to be incredibly inconsistent with this, school sux. Anyways.
In a nutshell: Children with newfound powers are being studied due to being new and being given powers by an "unknown" (to the adults at least) benefactor. The majority of those children are NOT taken legally. There are bounty hunters, the price of a superpowered child depending on abilities given. They tend to grab those kids and take them to labs. And commit atrocities on the way. They are considered heroes by most due to the rogueness of the powered children and the dangers they pose, now onto my MC'S.
Oliver Campbell is a 14 year old adopted boy given their powers in a time of need by the 'unknown benefactor,' going through stressful times alongside his nonpowered, unknowing siblings. He struggles, being scrawny with nothing but acidic tears to help him out against bullies with good reputations and the looming threat of bounty hunters everywhere.
Victoria Campbell is a 16 year old, unpowered girl who tended to hang with popular people, a polar opposite to her brother. She tries, despite bad boyfriends and a.. weird current boyfriend. He's been grabbing her more than usual and conspiring about her little brother being a meta. It irks her, and she feels weird around him.
Velora Campbell is a 22 year old woman with a grumbly attitude and a penchant for violence. She's been thinking about proposing to her boyfriend lately, they'd been together for years after all, but he's been hiding something. Something she doesn't know about and is willing to search through his phone for, just to find out something that could unknowingly put her siblings in danger. Something she's willing to kill about.
