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exhaslo · 28 days

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Corruption Ch14

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship?

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Thirty Days until D-Day

The city was welcomed with a heavy rain storm that had no end in sight. Umbrellas were no match against the fierce winds and downpour that befell the city. The poor citizens who dared to walk got drenched. It was the beginning of an already dreadful day to many.

Aaron groaned and cussed as he scurried into Alchemax, water dripping from every angle. He sighed in relief as a few of the staff members set up automatic heaters and dryers for the employees. Sometimes there were perks for working for Alchemax.

The company cared more about reputation.

Once he was dry, Aaron made sure to clock in. There, he waited for certain people. Once said people arrived, they all casually walked with each other to the elevator. As they all stood in the elevator, each person handed something small to Aaron.

"Thank you all." He whispered upon leaving with another worker.

"This is risky. Do you even know how to do it?" His coworker asked. Aaron frowned as he spotted you grabbing a file from his boss,

"I'll need to work out the details, but I have an idea." He said before smiling towards you, "(Y/N)! How have you been? Feels like forever,"

"Ah, Aaron, yes it has! Have you been busy?" You asked. Aaron couldn't stop smiling,

"You could say so. A lot of newbies trying to play games on computers has us getting rid of viruses." He said with a chuckle and glanced at the file, "What about you?"

"End of month is tomorrow. Just grabbing all of the paperwork from each department so I can file them all. So...exciting." You said with a soft sigh, "Ah! Speaking of time, I have to grab Miguel's coffee!"

"Be careful, it's pouring outside."

Aaron waved towards you as you ran off in a hurry. You were still ever so kind despite Miguel's interference.

"Still going for the boss' girl? Everyone knows that Miguel probably uses her as a stress relief." Aaron's coworker scoffed, "Ain't no way he would let anyone get that close."

"C'mon. She's his assistant. Miguel's too cold hearted to-"

"Use (Y/N)? How many times did he butt in to your flirting? To you trying to ask her out?"

"Shut up, let's just get back to work. Miguel will have what's coming to him eventually."

---------

You were shivering as you cuddled against Miguel's chest. You were in your underwear, wrapping in a thick blanket as you sat on Miguel's lap in his office. Your clothes were drying in the corner, since Miguel demanded you come up to him in a hurry.

"I told you the coffee could wait," Miguel grumbled as you sneezed.

"Y-You're grumpy...w-without it,"

"At the cost of you getting sick? It can wait. I can always send someone else to get it." Miguel said with a scoff, his arm tightening around your waist, "And you didn't even dry off downstairs."

"Y-You told me to hurry! So I climbed the window," You said with a whine, "Can't...Can't I just wear my spare clothes? This is...embarrassing."

"I've seen you naked already." Miguel said unamused then glanced towards you, "Or did the oh so powerful Spider-Woman want to get sick? To have me care for her?"

"N-No," You said with a pout.

Miguel was so mean when he wanted to be. Watching him chuckle made your heart melt. He can be as mean as he wants, just as long as you get to see him enjoy himself. Cuddling back into his chest, you inhaled, enjoying his cologne.

---------

Miguel waited for you to fall asleep before pulling up his security footage of one of the labs. Miguel had a small team of scientists handling your blood injections towards test subjects. As much as Miguel wished to be there in person, he needed to keep distracting you from the city.

Besides, none of those scientists knew what they were giving to the new test subjects. None of them would live to even tell the tale of Miguel's success.

"Sir, now conducting test subject number eight." One of the scientists spoke to the camera.

Eight.

It took eight attempts so far. There was always something wrong with something. Miguel was getting frustrated, but he had to keep going. This was the only way he could get what he wanted. This was the only way to get his dream.

"Mhpm," You whimpered in your sleep.

Pulling up his calendar, Miguel checked on your ovulation. With a roll of his eyes, Miguel noticed that you were about to start your period. It was right about now that your cramps would start to kick in. As frustrating as it was, this was needed.

By your next ovulation, Miguel will be perfect.

He will finally be able to give you what you've been waiting for.

What he's been waiting for.

But, in the meantime, Miguel had work to do. Ordering some heat pads and chocolate, Miguel made sure to take care of you during your period. You were his perfect trophy. Miguel couldn't have you down in the dumps.

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Twenty Days Until D-Day

Yet again, the rain did not let up. According to the forecast, it was to rain like this for the rest of the week. You were debating on swinging to work, but with this rain...no. You didn't want to end up sick. Miguel would never let you go out again.

"Hm, I need to get to work." You whispered, looking at the time.

Rubbing your arms, you let out a whine as you tried to think. Normally, Miguel would give you a ride, but today he had to arrive to work earlier than normal. Apparently his father had some meetings he wanted Miguel to go too.

"Would Miguel mind if I stay home?"

"He would," Lyla appeared, "Miguel is already showing signs of extreme stress and frustration. Without you, I can conclude that by noon, he might kill someone."

"Oh, Lyla, you jest." You chuckled lowly before stopping, "Miguel won't kill anyone."

But you knew how Miguel got when he was angry. Miguel was never too fond of his own father, especially when dragged to these meetings. Honestly, it was cute. Miguel was like a spoiled child, not wanting to do work.

Leaving your apartment, you sighed as you still wondered how you were going to get to work without getting soaked. It was still Fall in Nueva York, but it felt like winter already to you. Oh, the downside of having Spider DNA.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?" Aaron asked, stopping his cab. You gasped, hurrying over,

"Oh! Thank you, Aaron, you're a life savor!"

"Sure," Aaron smiled as he opened the door for you. You shivered slightly when entering, thanking him again, "It's really no problem. Luck even, guess I just happen to pass your place at the right time."

"You sure did."

You hummed happily as you texted Miguel, asking if he wanted his morning coffee. As you were waiting for his reply, you glanced over at Aaron,

"So, it's been...raining a lot. Might be a colder winter than normal."

"So we have to make sure your office is a furnace." He said with a chuckle, "Getting coffee for our dictator today?"

"Ah-" You felt your cheeks flush as you just checked your phone, "Guess not. He won't let me get it when it rains like this. Hehe, Miguel does have his little soft side," You chirped.

Aaron felt his eye twitch, "It's amazing how you can still see the best in him."

"It could be because I'm his assistant?" You tried to dodge the question since no one knew about your relationship with Miguel, "Um, I think everyone just needs to give Miguel a chance. I'm sure-"

"I rather not. If he makes me his errand boy anymore, I might quit." Aaron huffed then glanced at you, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt or be sour. We've....just been up to our necks with work."

"It's okay,"

You lowered your head, remaining silent for the rest of the ride. It was hard to express your vision of Miguel to others. Once you arrived, you thanked Aaron again for the lift and hurried inside.

--------

Aaron paid the fair and slowly made his way inside. He watched you from a distance, paying attention to your watch as Lyla appeared. Miguel was always listening to you. He always paid attention to who you were with.

A controlling bastard.

Aaron just smiled as he went to clock in, hoping that Miguel will play the petty game. The only problem about this game Aaron was playing was you getting caught in the fire. Aaron was going to have to make sure you were nowhere near Miguel when he acts.

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You stood in front of Miguel's large office window, staring down at the city below. Miguel was still in his meetings, sending you a text here and there about stupid little things. It made you chuckle at some of the nitpicking he was doing.

"Hehe, ew. Miguel must really be bored if he is paying attention to the food stuck in someone's teeth," You giggle.

Glancing at his seat, you bit your lower lip. Miguel was going to be a while until he returned. Stroking your fingers against the arm rest, you let out a soft sigh as you took your seat on his desk. Miguel will be waiting for you.

You had to be a good girl and take your spot.

"Don't keep me waiting too long, Miggy~"

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader

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fiapartridge · 3 months

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gabe perreault imagine please 🙏🙏

long time coming | gabe perreault 💌🌊⭐️

gabe perreault x fem!reader

summary: you're sick and the only person who can cure you is your best friend, gabe!

warning(s): fluff, fluff, fluff

author's note: eee this is my first gabe fic! thank u anon for suggesting him, i was in a huge writers slump so ty ty ty! enjoy!

You had heard stories of people falling in love with their best friend; it happened to your parents, your older sister and her boyfriend, all of your cousins, but to you, love just felt unattainable, like maybe you were the exception. The love bug skipped a generation and was already preparing for the next—but now? Now you felt it. You felt it crawl underneath your skin and bubble in your stomach. You felt your chest tighten and the heat rise to your cheeks.

You were in love, true love.

“Gabe,” you groaned over the phone, his breathing sounding staticy over the line. You had been sick for a few days, only a slight cough and an itchy throat, but today felt 10 times worse. Your stomach was aching, your head felt like it was getting hit by a basketball every couple of seconds, and you sniffled so frequently you were sure that something was going to go up the wrong pipe and straight up to your brain.

And you felt bad, not only because of your illness, but because it was nearly 2 AM and you could hear Gabe shuffle underneath his dark blue sheets in the dorm he shared with his best friend, Will Smith. You knew it was late and this was wrong. I mean, the boy had a game against Boston University in the morning, now was not the time to wake him, but you just didn’t know what to do. You felt like you were dying and all you needed was one of Gabe’s famous hugs and maybe a back rub (he was really good at those).

“Hey,” he said quietly, trying not to wake the snoring Will on the other side of the room. His eyes were fighting to stay open, determined not to lean onto his fluffy white pillow and fall back to sleep. “You okay?”

You sniffled, grabbing another tissue from the box that laid beside your bed. “I feel like I’m dying,” you responded, your voice sounding congested and nasally—not in the slightest like your normal tone.

You could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone. Then, you could hear keys jangling and his closet door opening, a hoodie getting thrown over his body, and then the door to his dorm being pulled open. You wanted to protest because you knew what he was doing, where he was going, but you had no energy to speak. Instead, your stubborn voice turned to loud coughs that made Gabe want to pull you in his arms and hold you until they faded into oblivion.

But he couldn’t. It was too much for you. It would be weird. You wouldn’t feel the same. It was the exact same thing he’s been telling himself for months (really what he’s been telling himself since the moment he met you). It would ruin your guys’ friendship and you will never want to speak to him again. If only he could hear your thoughts because then, maybe he’d be thinking differently, and it wouldn’t be so hard.

Three soft knocks on the door of your dorm signaled exactly what you suspected would happen. Gabe was your best friend and if he caught the flu, you would be there holding his hand and making him a bowl of chicken noodle soup. If you were crying about a failed test, he would buy you ice cream and agree to watch countless episodes of The Bachelor until you were feeling okay again. One time you were sick with Covid and Gabe didn’t even care. He stayed with you during quarantine, snuggled under mountains of blankets, watching movies until you were sick of them, and gossiping about anyone and anything. It wasn’t a surprise that he caught the sickness a couple days later. Your moms laughed about the memory, finding it endearing that you two loved each other so much that you were willing to be sick together.

Gabe settled some medicine on your bedside table before lifting your light pink covers and crawling into bed with you. You fit perfectly into his arms, like this spot was made just for you. Despite your sweaty forehead and aching body, he held you tightly, placing small kisses on the crown of your head. Your parents had always joked about you two getting married someday, but sometimes you wished that it was real; that you would grow old with him and live in a big white house with a white picket fence and a large rose garden in the backyard. You truly couldn’t see your life with anyone else.

But that was silly. Gabe was your best friend. That would just be weird—right?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He walked all the way from his building to yours in the middle of the night despite having a ginormous game tomorrow. He felt unreal, like how could a person be so perfect and somehow be yours?

“Don’t be,” his words were just as soft. His chin resting on the top of your head as yours fit in the space between his neck and shoulder, leaving delicate kisses on his adams apple. This isn’t what best friends do, you told yourself. Best friends don’t kiss each other. Best friends don’t cuddle underneath sheets and hold hands to “warm each other up.” It was confusing and you hated it. You hated not knowing how he was feeling when you knew exactly how you felt about Gabe.

“You didn’t have to come here.”

“You called.”

You laughed. “That doesn’t mean anything. You could’ve stayed in bed and slept longer and had good dreams and—”

“Hey,” he smiled down softly at you, lifting your chin to look up at him. His hand lingered there for a while, not wanting to move away from you. There was something about you that made Gabe want to be closer and closer. There was something that made him want to parade you around campus, telling everyone that you were his. He wanted to see you in his jersey and kiss you after games and hold you tight at parties. He wanted to take you with him to New York when he plays for the Rangers after college and introduce you to his family as his girlfriend instead of just his best friend. Gabe was ready for more, but he hated thinking that you might not be. “I wasn’t just going to let you die, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, like that one time you pushed me down that water slide at Hurricane Harbor.”

“Pft, you wanted to go down that.”

You chuckled incredulously. “There is no way you just said that.”

“‘Oh, Gabe, please take me on this waterslide. I’ve been dying to go with you.’”

“I don’t sound like that.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you sound like this,” he said, pinching his nose with his fingers, his voice sounding blocked and nasally.

You pushed his hands away, hiding your face in his clothed chest. “Shut up.”

“C’mon, you love it.”

“I will fight you.”

He ran his hand up and down your arm, your eyes fluttering closed and your breathing steadying. He held you tighter, wrapping both arms around you and snuggling deeper into the bed. His last words before you fell into hypnosis lingered in your mind as you couldn’t even escape your lovestruck dreams of the perfect boy. “Keep telling yourself that, sicko.”

By the time the sun rose, you were sure that he would be gone; that his hoodie would be collected from the carpet, that his legs would no longer be intertwined with yours, and that his belongings would be gone, but he was still there and you were still in his arms and everything was still perfect. His breathing was soft and slow, his little curls were a bit tussled, his cheeks were pale, and you wondered what he was dreaming about that left a ghost of a smile on his face.

You wanted to wake up like this everyday and everyday after that. So yeah, maybe you were in love. Maybe you were in deep. And maybe you were ready to tell him.

He rustled around before lifting his eyes open, his smile growing wider when he saw your pink face, knowing he caught you staring at him as you glanced around the room, trying not to make eye contact with the boy.

“Feeling better?” he asked, turning to his side and facing you.

A strand slipped through your loose ponytail and settled on the front of your face, covering your eyes as he allowed his hands to work faster than his mind. He slowly brought his hand up, carefully moving the strand behind your ear. And you would expect the moment to be over but when his hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb lightly running over the smooth skin of your face, you knew that maybe just maybe there could be something more.

You nodded slowly. “I’m okay.”

“I’m glad. I hate seeing my girl sick,” he spoke softly as if speaking any louder would shatter the calming atmosphere.

My girl. You wanted to allow your mind to toss and turn, investigate the meaning behind those two words, search for his thought-process, his feelings, anything, but for the first time in forever, you felt serene and calm with him. You didn’t feel the need to wonder what this meant for the two of you. You were perfectly content where you were now, where you were going, and what you were going to do next.

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast yet gentle. His eyes wandered down to your place of connection and when they met yours again, you could’ve sworn you saw something: a spark, hope, clarity, confirmation.

And when he leaned in, holding your face close with the hand still resting on your cheek, his lips hovering over yours, desperate to connect, you knew nothing would be the same. He would never be just your best friend anymore. And you were perfectly okay with that.

As Gabe leaned in, his lips met yours in a tender, yet passionate kiss. It was a moment that felt suspended in time, where every sensation was heightened—the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, the racing of your heart. In that instant, all doubts melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of certainty and bliss.

The kiss deepened, as if both of you were pouring all the unspoken feelings and desires into this one act. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel every part of him against you. His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as if he never wanted to let go.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the outside world fading into insignificance. When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, you found yourselves gazing into each other's eyes, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. But there was no fear, no uncertainty, only a profound sense of connection and joy.

“I’m sick,” you said, making Gabe chuckle softly. Of course your first words after a long-anticipated kiss would be that. But that’s what Gabe loved about you. You were you in every sense of the word. You are the reason his stomach hurts from laughing every time he comes back to his dorm, staring into space as he thinks about your giggle and your smile and your stupid humor. You are everything. You’re the world.

I just kissed the world, Gabe thought. My girl.

With a smile that spoke volumes, Gabe whispered, "I don’t care."

“You will when you get sick.”

“And will you be here? When I get sick?” he asked, his thumb running back and forth on the exposed space of skin on your pelvis.

You nodded. You would be there for him through anything no matter what. “Always.”

“Then I’m okay with it.”

And in that moment, as you nestled into his embrace once more, you knew that the stories were real and true; that love is real and true, because you just fell in it and you couldn’t be happier.

#gabe perreault #boston college #boston college hockey #gabe perreault x reader #gabe perreault imagines #gabe perreault imagine #gabe perreault fluff

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xjulixred45x · 2 months

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If you don't mind me can I request male reader who like Akaza from Demon slayer with the Hazbin Hotel.

Bonus: respect woman.

Hello! Normally i would Say no bc My Requests are Closed but you're lucky that i'm in a good mood to write and also i am a fan of this Man✨ 😭

Thanks for the Request ❤️

(to the other Readers, don't take this as something usual, the Requests are still Closed, i'm just in the mood to write THIS for now)

Akaza! Reader in Hazbin Hotel

Genre: headcanons

Reader: male

Warnings: Reader is a fighter, violence(?), hell, slight change in Akaza story so its not a Copy-paste and make "more sense",idk, I MAKE THIS IN A RUSH OF ✨INSPIRATION✨SO ITS NOT PROFFHEAD!!

You were born and raised in the Edo era, in Japan. and it was a nightmare.

You lived in poverty all your life, practically alone with your sick father who could barely take care of himself, but he always tried to take care of you above all else.

You spent a lot of your life trying to take care of him back, but it was difficult because of money, you couldn't afford it. so you did the only thing you could think of: steal medicine.

Obviously many times this didn't turn out well, and they ended up catching you and taking you to be beaten and tattooed like a criminal, but it was the kind of life you led until your father died.

That was when you hit rock bottom, but you met certain people who helped you move forward. a martial arts master and his sick daughter (who reminded you a lot of your father).

And it was the time when you lived better, you took care of your teacher's daughter and you learned from him, you had a good life.

you and his daughter even fell in love!

everything had fallen into place in your life...

until conflicts broke out again.

You don't remember much about your last days of life, it was a cycle of going, killing whoever got in your way, returning with whatever you wanted from your group, and whatever followed...

You just wanted to go home.

but you died before that.

and just as you expected, after everything you had done wrong in your life, you ended up in hell.

It wasn't exactly like the hell you had imagined growing up, but it was definitely difficult to adjust, knowing that you were dead, in this hole of misery, far from them...

but you didn't waste your time. You discovered quite quickly that several of your physical abilities had stayed with you, so you took advantage of them and became a quite formidable demon.

You wouldn't say you were an Overlord, but you were definitely an anomaly to Hell's QUO status, a demon who had become powerful without the need for owning souls.

something very strange.

so many Overlords, feeling threatened, tried to go after you, only to never be seen again...

As for the Hotel issue, I think that Akaza! reader would be skeptical, I don't think he would have a problem offering himself as a test subject for the hotel because 1- there is Alastor, someone very strong, and 2- he has a small hope that the hotel will work and maybe, just maybe he can redeem himself and go. to heaven with his love and his teacher, what he loves most. although he wouldn't say the last thing out loud.

Speaking of relationships, Alastor and him can actually get along in a very ambiguous way, Alastor is not happy with someone who is so strong without even having souls of their own, so he is cautious, but not in a threatening way.

Although there is something these two have in common, THEY RESPECT WOMEN.

Alastor can definitely introduce him to Akaza! read several of his female friends to be more "social" and get possible blackmail material.

Alastor secretly knows of the possible motives behind why Akaza! Reader would like the hotel to work, he thinks he is naive, but he doesn't make fun, Alastor partly understands why he feels that way. leaves him alone in that sense.

...but it bothers him in every other way! using it as an armrest, innocuous phrases, crushing it with things out of nowhere, etc. He always has something up his sleeve to piss him off.

but they can ally if women get involved ;)

Charlie is so so so so so happy to have Akaza! reader as another participant alongside Angel and Sir Pentious! She constantly thanks him for his collaboration and tells him how much it means to her.

Lots of encouragement during the trust exercises! she realizes that Akaza! Reader is not very talkative, and although he does not force him to change, he "subtly" encourages him to be more open with the exercises.

Although that does not mean that she admits the fights, she tries to encourage Akaza! reader to find another way to get out his anger and energy in less destructive ways.

I think I would be the only one who knows through Akaza! reader why he wants the hotel to work, and she is SO MOVED by him because Reader wants to redeem himself and that gives him a lot of motivation to do more exercises.

Aunaue is also sometimes a double-edged sword because she feels pressured not only by wanting to help her friends, but also by Akaza's cute motive! reader.

Akaza! reader is very protective of Charlie even if she is the princess of hell, he is like a bodyguard! or a very loyal pitbull. Charlie finds it endearing (but please don't rip that demon's head off please---)

Vaggie is scared of Akaza at first! reader for his aggressive nature.

She is afraid that he will end up directing that destructive energy towards them if he is very angry, so she is very cautious at first.

but eventually she can relax more and more with him as she realizes that (at least with women) he's not going to explode on anyone who doesn't deserve it. and that in fact he is a good man.

sparring together! Vaggie feels kind of bad that he doesn't have a gun, but is surprised at how tough he is.

If she finds out his reason behind going to the hotel, she supports him a lot in his journey of redemption, more than before, she empathizes with him.

They both have similar motives.

Vaggie really appreciates when Akaza! reader defends the female staff against Angel's out-of-place comments. she may even allow him to hit him.

You two are the main people in charge of protecting the hotel.

Let's be honest, Angel dust at first was just "flirting"/sexually harassing Akaza! reader until he beat him up and never did it again.

He thought he was simply bitter about life until he remembered that on one occasion he told him that "he was taken" and he didn't take it so personally.

After the duet with Husk, he went directly to apologize to him and they were on bad terms.

Angel occasionally likes to prank him like everyone else in the hotel, but he's considerably less annoying with Akaza! reader because he knows what he is capable of.

When he eventually finds out why he is "taken" and why someone like him is in the hotel, he can't help but empathize with him a lot (from his sister in heaven), and tries to be his "Husk" at his lowest moment. .

Even if technically Akaza!reader is stronger than him in every way, he takes care of him in his own way, watching his drink, not being robbed, etc.

Angel is definitely not used to so much respect when it comes to his gender identity, which is why he respects Akaza a lot! reader.

They generally start off on the wrong foot but manage to be friends.

Husk likes Akaza! reader, simply because it gets on Alastor's nerves and because he knows that he won't kick the ass of someone who doesn't deserve it. He knows everyone is safe with him.

He definitely knows about his reason for being in the hotel and pities him, respects his privacy a lot after that and doesn't let him talk drunk.

Husk may get to have his "loser baby" moment with Akaza! reader but in a platonic way, helping him when it is especially difficult to stay away from violence.

They can even have a father-son relationship, Husk is very similar to Akaza's teacher! reader in many ways EMOTIONALLY SPEAKING so Akaza! reader feels comfortable with him.

she definitely tells him things about her past as Overlord to entertain him.

Sir Pentious at first was TERRIFIED of Akaza!reader, his reputation was as a tough guy who went after evil people and Pentious (having his poor self-image) thought he would kill him as soon as he saw him.

but fortunately it was not like that!

but he was definitely avoiding it for DAYS before he heard from the others that Akaza!reader wasn't that bad and was actually quite nice. to give him a chance.

and Pentious did just that. and he was VERY surprised.

Akaza! reader has had to dismantle several of Sir Pentious's evil machines using his enormous strength, and although Pentious was heartbroken to see his machines destroyed, he was also VERY surprised by Akaza!reader's capabilities, even giving me more things to do. break and test their strength (imagine this pair getting to know the Rage Rooms).

Pentious Minnions occasionally go to Akaza! reader when P. is not there, which is fun to see because Akaza!reader would try to get away from the Minions that come after him like ducks.

Akaza! reader clearly notices Pentious's crush on Cherri, and encourages him to do something now that he has time.

(Can you imagine Akaza! reader's Koyuki becoming friends with Pentious in heaven? It would be Epico).

Mononeuronal pair.

Niffty is strange.

but I can definitely see Akaza! reader protecting it constantly. so Niffty likes him. But I wouldn't really say they are friends.

In general, everyone has some kind of respect for Akaza! reader. They hope you can reach your goal.

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

Again, this DOES NOT MEAN that orders are open again! I'm just taking a break and deciding what things to write and what not to. thanks for the request ✨❤️

#headcanons #male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #kny akaza

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galactic-magick · 10 months

Text

Less Talking, More Kissing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: You tell Miguel that every time he gets mad at something he has to take you aside and make out with you.

Words: 1.0k+

Warnings: slightly suggestive

Author’s Notes: 100% convinced that if Miguel just got a kiss kiss he wouldn’t be such a dick.

It’s no secret to anyone in the Spider Society that Miguel is an angry man. Understandably so, considering what he’s been through. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect the entire team negatively. His anger often clouds his judgment and his ability to sympathize with others, and you know he’s aware of it. People don’t listen to him when he gets irrational and dramatic, and quite frankly he’s sick of not being taken seriously.

You know it’s partially a side-effect of his mutated DNA, giving him a bit of a feral, animalistic side that’s difficult to fully turn off, but when he comes to you feeling hopeless, you’re more than happy to do what you can. You’ve been together for a long time now, and you’re the one person he fully trusts.

“You’re the only person who can actually keep me grounded, you know,” he mumbles into your neck, cuddling you close on the couch. “How do you do it?”

“Nothing special,” you giggle as his fangs slightly tickle your skin. “I just love you as much as I can,”

“Even when I’m a jerk?”

“Especially when you’re a jerk.”

He groans, adjusting position so he’s propped up above you, “I wish I could just make out with you whenever I get like that. You’re the only one who can calm me down,”

You smirk, “Who says you can’t?”

“You...you want me to do that?”

“Why not?” you shrug. “If I have the power to turn you into a nicer guy, even if it’s temporary, why not let you do what you want with me?”

“Don’t tempt me, love,” he growls, leaning down to kiss you.

“I’m serious!” you push him away playfully. “Just try it tomorrow, okay? See if it works,”

“You’re too good to me,” he grins, leaning back down to capture your lips.

It’s not long into the next day before he needs you. He’s alone, glaring at his monitors and getting increasingly frustrated at all the issues rising across the universe. He tells Lyla to send you in, and before you can get a word out to ask what’s wrong, he grabs you and slams you against the panels, kissing you passionately until he gets all the irritation out of his system.

This continues to happen several more times over the next few weeks. At first it’s limited to only times when he’s alone, but eventually it bleeds into times others are around as well. Anytime he starts to get heated in some sort of mission briefing or meeting with people from the Spider Society, he’ll step out to call you and get his fix. People start to wonder why Miguel keeps randomly leaving meetings for 10-20 minutes and then returning completely composed, but none of them are about to complain that he’s gotten nicer recently. He’s been yelling a lot less and is overall a less negative person now, and people are a lot more chill around him now. They don’t feel scared to talk to him, and they’re finally listening to him as much as he wanted.

The day he hears about the newest anomaly on Earth-1610, though, is when his coping mechanism is really put to the test.

You haven’t seen him this angry in quite a long time, as he goes on and on about something involving a spider biting a kid in the wrong universe, and that kid’s actions causing the creation of a dangerous super villain. He tells the newest recruit, Gwen Stacy, to go to that universe and check it out, but to avoid Miles at all costs. She retaliates, due to Miles being a close old friend of hers, but Miguel doesn’t back down. He reminds her once again of what’s at stake and how important it is to maintain canon events, refusing to listen to her point of view.

“Miguel.” you take his hand and pull him aside, waving to the others. “We’ll be right back. Just need to take care of something,”

You take him out of the room and push him into the wall, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to you and kiss him ferociously.

“Mmph-” he grunts. “They just-they just don’t understand…”

“I know sweetheart, I know,” you sigh as he kisses down your neck, lightly biting the skin. “But you really were being a jerk in there,”

“I could’ve been worse. I was holding back,” his hands graze and squeeze down the sides of your body, making your squeak at his strength.

“She’s just a kid, Miguel,”

“A kid who doesn’t know what she’s talking about-”

“Alright,” you cut him off. “Less talking, more kissing,”

He does as he’s told, continuing to kiss every piece of skin exposed. His hands move from your hair to your waist to your legs, and he lifts you up from under them. He turns you around and slams you against the wall, pressing into you while your hands cling to his giant shoulders.

“I need you,” he growls.

“You still have to go back in there eventually, you know,”

“But I haven’t gotten all my anger out yet,” he smirks against your lips.

“How much more do you have?”

“Enough to last all night, sweetheart,”

Your stomach flutters, and you slither your fingers into his hair. You’ve created a monster.

“Hey man,” you hear a voice several feet away. “Can we go home now or what?”

Miguel drops you down and you turn to see Hobie, Gwen, as multiple Peters from the mission briefing staring at you. You both feel your faces grow hot.

“Lyla will finish giving you all the details of the mission and then you can go your separate ways, yes,” Miguel speaks up.

They nod and awkwardly walk away, and Miguel grabs your hand and starts storming down the hall.

“Now they’re never going to take me seriously,”

“You don’t know that. Sometimes showing people you have a soft side actually makes them respect you more,”

“Hmmph,” he grunts, pulling you inside your shared room at the end of the hall.

You laugh, “Still need to get that anger out?”

“You have no idea.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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macgyvermedical · 2 years

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How to Go To a U.S. Hospital in 2022

Welcome to the hospital. You may have heard that we're understaffed. We are. We are no longer in a position to live up to the hospital experience you had back in 2019.

This post is about how to get the best possible care despite these trying times. Much of it is also applicable to long term care facilities and other institutions who are running on empty.

The Emergency Department

Consider: Do you have to go to an emergency department to get the care you need? If you need a prescription or a covid test or an inhaler or an x-ray or a STI test or basic diagnosis and otherwise you're probably fine, go to your doctor, a quick clinic, or an urgent care. You will not get care faster in the emergency room. I promise. Go to the ED if you are reasonably sure you would die or lose a limb if you didn't.

The ED is not first come first served. People who are going to die if they are not seen get seen first. If you are stable, even if you are in pain, be prepared to wait. At the height of covid we had stable people waiting for over 24 hours in the waiting area. We also cannot legally tell you to go somewhere else, even if we're pretty sure you're not sick enough to get seen anytime soon.

Bring your home meds. You are going to be there a while and you might not get in a bed in time to get your next dose. Even when you do, it takes a long time for a doctor to order your home meds. We never intended you to stay here for 4 days, so the infrastructure isn't there. Also, bringing your home meds is going to save you money.

RE: the above- tell us what you're taking, when you're taking it. We do want to know that so we don't give you anything that would interact with it. We also really want you to keep taking your home meds so you don't get worse.

Bring a charging cord for your phone, a change of clothes, a book, and if the visitation rules allow, a friend. You're going to be here a while.

The Emergency Department is designed to figure out what's wrong with you and do things that will save your life or help you leave the ED without having to get admitted. Sometimes the ED will treat pain, but each pain medication dose is ordered separately, so it's probably not going to be on the time scale you want or need. I hate to say this, but do keep asking. We have been really conditioned to assume if you stop asking, you're not in pain anymore.

If they tell you not to eat, or not to take a certain med, follow that advice. I know you've probably been there for a while and no one's told you why you can't do these things. That's not great. Ask why if you can, but assume the request is legit.

In order for you to be admitted, you need to be sick enough that they can't just kick you out with a cab voucher, a prescription, and a turkey sandwich. That's pretty dang sick these days. Pretty much, you have to be in danger of dying or losing a limb if you don't get admitted. And also, a bed in the hospital has to become available that can accommodate your needs. This usually means someone else has to get discharged or die. That might take a while, because they were just as sick as you when they came in.

The Hospital Floor

So they decided to admit you, a bed became available, and transport finally showed up to take you to your new bed.

Bring the following: A charger for your phone (I know you'd think we have these, but I swear we don't- they've all been stolen). If you smoke, bring nicotine lozenges or gum (you can't smoke or vape here. We have patches, but if you wait until you need a cig, it's too late for a patch to work, and if you try to sneak out most places will not let you back on the floor and you'll have to go back to the ED). If you have heartburn regularly, bring tums (we can order you tums, but you'll only be able to take like 1 every other hour, and let's be honest, if you use tums you usually need more than that). If you take a weird med, bring it (especially HIV drugs, chemo drugs, and meds for autoimmune conditions, because it takes forever to get some of these because we don't always have them on site). If you have severe allergies, consider bringing your own food. Seriously.

RE the above: Tell us what you're taking, when you're taking it.

Do not bring narcotics. There's too much liability on our end. Both because we cannot control how much you take if they are in your possession and if we find them we have to call security to watch us count them and store them in a locked drawer and which will be destroyed in 30 days if you forget to ask for them on the way out. It's just a hassle and someone is always in danger of getting sued over it.

If you drink more than 4 drinks a day, or use street drugs, tell us. Tell us please please tell us. We will not tell the cops. If we know, we will then be able to ask you questions about your withdrawal symptoms and can give you meds to control them. If you wait until you start swinging at us and having seizures we will not be happy.

Also, if you're on MAT, tell us. We don't automatically re-order suboxone or vivitrol like we do other meds. Addiction med has to be consulted, come see you, and work miracles to get that ordered for you while you're in the hospital.

If you see pain management, tell us as early as you can. Pain management has to be consulted and then work absolute miracles to get the admitting providers to order your home regimen, because anything more than 10mg of oxycodone every 4 hours is terrifying to them, even if you take 160mg of methodone everyday at home without a problem. The sooner they know you're here, the less likely you'll be miserable for a week before those things can be re-ordered.

Also, bring a friend. Seriously. I'm not kidding please bring a friend who is willing to help take care of you- things like turn you, help you dress, feed you, hold your hair back when you puke, and change your sheets when you pee the bed. And please bring someone you feel will follow the rules and ask before getting you something. You don't want to stay longer just because your friend brought you food you weren't supposed to eat because they felt bad for you.

A scheduled event is not really scheduled. Yes, you might have been told that your surgery is scheduled for 8am. You might have been told your dialysis was going to be "this afternoon". These things are not set in stone, and unless you are literally and currently dying, nothing is happening "right now". I have watched people wait days for appendectomies, gallbladder removals, displaced fractures, and other urgent-but-not-immediately-life-threatening problems. All a late intervention means is that someone else would have died if they did it as scheduled.

MOVE. Barring an unstable pelvic fracture or two broken femurs, if you can get out of bed and walk around, walk (ask your nurse if they want you to ask for assistance when you get out of bed to prevent falls). If you can't, sit up in a chair for part of the day. If you can't do that, move around in bed- roll back and forth, bend your knees, point your toes, do anything to keep you moving. If you're in pain, take pain medication strategically and move when it's most effective.

6:30 to 9:30, day or night, is the worst time period to put your call light on. Report time is 7 o'clock, meaning we have about a half hour to learn about our patients and set up our day, after which we have about 15 mins allotted per patient to assess the person, discuss goals for the day, find and pass daily medications, get vitals and blood sugar if applicable, and do anything the patient needs to get them set up for the day (water, pain meds, set up tray/feed, toilet, etc...). Put it on if you need to, but know that it will take a lot longer to be answered during these time periods than any other time of day.

You can refuse anything you want to refuse. You just can't sue us about it later. You can even say "I know you told me to do this thing, I am not doing it, please document accordingly". We will probably try to explain the consequences of not doing the thing. I recommend you listen, but the choice is certainly and always up to you.

You can leave against medical advice. It is also a thing you can do. As long as you let us tell you the risks, you can leave with prescriptions, education, and a wheelchair ride to the front door if you care to stick around for an hour or so after you declare you would like to leave. Some insurance companies have rules about this, which you can find by calling them. Just call and ask "what are the consequences of leaving against medical advice?" Some insurances don't have any consequences, some will completely refuse to pay for the stay, and some will refuse to pay for a second ED trip or admission within 30 days for the same problem.

Our prioritization system is: Critical (CPR, evaluating changes in status, dealing with changes in vital signs) Urgent (bed change for incontinent patient, pain/nausea/time-sensitive meds, drawing stat labs, answering phone calls from doctors, etc..) Routine (scheduled meds, scheduled assessments, calling family members, basic comfort things, ambulating patients, education, etc..) and Extra (everything else that has to do with comfort but isn't necessarily going to change outcomes).

I have had whole shifts where I don't do anything that isn't critical or urgent (with one routine med pass that was really late). I've rarely had a shift in the last 3 years where I've been able to do anything extra.

We're doing our best. Seriously. Nearly every shift I've worked has been absolutely flat out for 12 hours, and it takes a solid 2 days actually to recover from 2 days in a row of work. I would say I rarely get a full lunch break. Our patients are more and more complicated, and the decisions higher and higher stakes. Please understand. If you or a loved one hasn't been seen by the nurse in a few hours, it just means we're not as worried about you as the person down the hall who keeps trying to die.

We wish we could give you 2019 care. We really, really do. We don't have the resources for that anymore. We are triaging. The hotel vibe they were trying to present in 2019 is in the facility design only. You have to bring your own bells and whistles. You have to help us help you now.

#hospital #hospital life #tips and tricks #nursing #patient

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herb10 · 5 months

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Justin as a Dad... (Part I)

Summary: headcanon list of Justin as a new father from pregnancy to birth Pairing(s): Justin Herbert x fem!reader Warning(s): mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, mentions of sex, swearing, etc.

Disclaimer: the following written work comprises "real person fanfiction" (RPF); any characters mentioned are entirely fictional or fictionalised versions of real people. Any dialogue, circumstance, and/or any other trait of this work that bears semblance to reality is coincidence.

[masterlist]

- Justin would be so excited to hear you're pregnant

- "are you serious?" "you're joking with me, right?"

- when you hand him the pregnancy test, he just stares at it with a soft little smile

- his smile would grow until he was beaming with joy as the realisation sinks in that, no, you're not joking, you really are pregnant

- he'd wrap you in his massive arms and give you the biggest bear hug

- he'd definitely get emotional and maybe even tear up, but would try to hide it by burying his face in your hair

- his voice would be all choked up when he tells you that he's so happy and that he loves you, clearing his throat to try and compose himself

- he would be so excited to tell all of your family and friends, but would definitely wait until you were both ready to make the news known however

- he would get so emotional when telling his mum and dad that they were going to be grandparents omg

- big hugs from his parents as they congratulate both of you on the happy news

- he would be so protective of you and your baby's privacy and wellbeing

- everyone would be under strict instructions not to advertise the pregnancy unless both of you were ready to make the news public

- he'd legit be furious if the news somehow broke on social media or in some article without his or your consent

- would probably speak in code to not reveal the news to anyone outside your trusted circle

- "taking our cat to the vet" = going to the doctor's with you lmao

- would sometimes forget that you're pregnant in the very stages until something reminds him that he's going to be a dad

- seeing a baby in a stroller in the supermarket? "Oh yeah, I'm gonna be a dad". Cute baby shoes at the Nike store? "I'm gonna be a dad!"

- would feel awful for you during the morning sickness phase

- he'd get up no matter the time to comfort you, hold your hair back, get you a glass of water, or whatever else you needed in that moment

- grabbing you food at the store on his way back from the facility or getting food delivered randomly when you have a sudden craving for taco bell

- he'd understand that being pregnant isn't a disability and that you could still do things for yourself, but he'd still kinda treat you like you were made of glass lol

- "I got it" would become his catchphrase and he'd use it whenever he saw you trying to do anything that involved bending, reaching...or moving lol

- Justin: "I got it!" You: "Justin, I can get myself a glass of water just fine 😅"

- he'd be in his Acts of Service element, taking care of you as best as he could

- he'd know that pregnancy is a big change for you, so would be as patient and as understanding as possible if you were experiencing mood swings

- however...don't expect him to be a pushover and bend to every whim or allow unreasonable behaviour just bc of pregnancy-induced hormones

- Justin: "babe, I get that you're pregnant and that you're going through a lot right now, but I'm doing my best"

- he'd still expect you to be his partner and that you could face the challenges of pregnancy together

- on a more happy note, this man would have his hands all over the bump when you start to show

- tbh he'd have his hands all over you fullstop

- he'd let you know every opportunity he got how sexy he thought you were, even if you didn't feel that way about yourself

- You: "I look like a beached whale...". Justin: "You look so fucking good..."

- back hugs with his arms around you, his hands on the bump, to show you the changes to your body don't detract from your beauty, only add to it

- the pregnancy sex would be so fire omfg

- he'd be so gentle and let you command the pace until you were crying out for him to pound you and oh boy would he oblige

- probably some of the best sex you ever had tbh bc he'd be trying so fucking hard to make you feel good

- he'd love any hormonal feral horniness from you too and would be practically running home to you after practice lmfao

- would be so fucking excited when you felt the first little kick

- would probably make kicker or punter jokes about the baby

- would probably come up with cute little nicknames for the baby, like "peanut" or "shrimp"

- would sneak daddy-and-bump time in the early morning before leaving for practice whilst you were asleep

- speaking to the bump, gently laying a warm hand on your belly to feel the baby kick in response

- he'd really treasure those quiet moments where he could connect with his child before the birth

- would be proactive in preparations for the baby

- helping you buy and build furniture for the baby's nursery, no matter how tired and bruised he was from football

- he'd help you organise and make an inventory of everything you could ever possibly need

- he'd have a birthing bag packed and by the door very early on (and probably a spare in the car, y'know, just in case)

- big gender reveals aren't his thing but he'd be ok with a small gathering and a more tame reveal idea, like a cake with a coloured filling, etc.

- kinda think he'd like the surprise and wouldn't mind not knowing the gender before the baby was born

- he'd be more than happy for you to have a baby shower if it was something you wanted tho

- he'd be a bit wary of any social media attention and probably would prefer if photos of the occasion were kept off social media however...

- as long as you had both talked and agreed on if/when you would go public with the news, he'd be fine with it

- would desperately want to be at all of your scans and antenatal classes and would make as much effort as possible to be there

- he'd work late some days so he could take time off to attend "baby stuff" with you; this man would not want to miss a single milestone

- he'd especially love going to scans bc he'd get to see his child, hear their strong heartbeat, and it would all feel a bit more real to him

- this nerd would be paying so much attention in antenatal classes omfg he'd practically be a TA again

- ...being real, football would definitely factor into the birth plan; you and Justin would have to decide on a plan of action for every possible outcome

- if you were due during the season, you'd have to be prepared to be induced during a bye week or between games

- he'd also arrange for someone you trust to be with you in his absence if something happened and you went into labour when he wasn't there

- if you did go into labour whilst he was at a game, I don't think he'd leave until the game was over ngl

- but he'd be stressed as balls not to be at your side

- you can bet your ass he would be running out of the stadium the moment the game ended (still in his cleats and uniform probably) to a waiting car or a private jet on standby so he could hightail it back to you

- anxious facetiming with you the entire way home, checking to make sure you were ok

- Justin's all about being prepared so he'd plan for every situation imaginable to avoid that tho

- he would absolutely want to be there to support you and welcome your baby into the world

- he'd want to be there to rub your back, hold you up when you needed to stand or lean on something, get you hot or cold compresses...

- whatever you needed he'd want to be the one doing it for you

- during labour, he'd truly hate to see you in pain and would probably feel a little impotent

- for a man so used to being prepared and being in control, seeing you in pain and not really being able to help would absolutely cut him to his core

- the one thing he would be able to do was be the ultimate hype man when it came time to deliver your baby

- he'd speak words of encouragement to you like he was cheering on teammates from the sideline

- "you got this!" "you're almost there!" "you're doing awesome, babe, keep pushing!"

- he'd let you grip his hand so hard, he'd hold up your legs to help you push, he'd kiss your sweaty forehead and stroke your damp hair back from your face...

- literally anything to comfort you as you worked to bring your baby into the world

- would absolutely cry with joy when your baby was finally born and bundled up against your naked chest

- he'd be so damn proud of you and amazed by what you just accomplished

- would kiss you full on the lips and would put every ounce of love that he was feeling at that moment into it

- he'd just be so fixated on the blissful serenity of you and the baby, kissing you sweetly and placing his hand and yours on your baby's damp little head

- the chaos, pain, and anxiety of the moment, the buzz of the medical team working around you would be nonexistent to him in that moment

- he'd be so eager to hold your little baby boy or baby girl, but also slightly terrified by how tiny and vulnerable they seemed

- would spend forever just staring at them, marvelling at how you had both created something so utterly perfect

- he'd run a finger down their little button nose and count their tiny toes over and over, just to make sure they were all still there

- pure elation the moment those teeny fingers, with fingernails as small as a grain of rice, wrapped around one of his fingers

- this man is sentimental, so if your baby were a boy, I honestly think that he would love to honour his late Papa Schwab by naming his son for him

- and he would melt with love for you if you were the one to suggest the idea

- post-birth acts of service would include helping you up out of the bed, helping you wash yourself, changing the baby when you need rest, helping you with breastfeeding, etc.

- he'd encourage you to sleep for two reasons: 1) bc he loves you and you need the rest 2) bc it means time with the baby for himself

- would hold them, rock them, speak to them about literally anything and everything, maybe sing quietly (and badly probably lol) to them

- he'd especially love to do skin-to-skin with them and just have his baby bundled up against his bare chest, feeling their warmth and listening to their little grunts and squeaks

- would facetime family and probably get a bit emotional again but would do his best to keep it together lol

- watching him dress the baby for leaving the hospital would honestly be so cute and hilarious

- he'd be so damn gentle and cautious like he was defusing a bomb or something lmfao

- "just gonna move your arm over here, buddy" "sorry princess, daddy's gotta put your socks on" "jeez, when did clothes become so complicated?!"

- defensive driving the entire way home from the hospital bc he's got the most precious cargo in the back seat rn

- Justin: "doesn't anyone know how to drive anymore?!" You: "Justin, it's LA, no one knows how to drive"

- he'd be so excited to have friends and family to visit and introduce them to your baby bc he'd be so damn proud to show everyone what you ✨ made ✨

- but he'd want to make sure you were both settled first and adjusting to being new parents

- he'd have so much fun telling visiting family and friends about how amazing you were and teasing you affectionately

- Justin: "she was awesome, you should've seen her..." "could use her on my o-line!"

- as tired and as nervous as he'd be at times being a new dad, he'd be so happy to be home with you and your baby, both happy and healthy

- as someone who seems to be pretty family-oriented, he'd just love to be together with you as a newly expanded family of three, ready to face whatever parenthood threw your way...

༝༚༝༚

#elle writes #justin herbert #nfl fanfic #nfl imagines #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic #justin herbert imagines #nfl fanfiction #nfl imagine #justin herbert imagine #nfl headcanon #justin herbert headcanon

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satoriberry · 6 months

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"there's no ink." "yer kinda cute." - karasu tabito

★ resume: you need to make photocopies of a correction sheet for all 35 of your classmates. also, karasu can't use printers.

★ heads up: karasu is potentially ooc but imo he acts the way he does when it comes to football outside of bllk he's CRINGE BOOOOO, reader has hair that can be tucked behind her ear so it can be short or long yknow and uhhh nothing else ig, maybe just karasu being cringe but what's new. also reader is so fucking sick and tired of people in this so she's a bit rude but its justified :3

★ berry's note: oh wow im WRITING!! [😱😱] n e way, i hate this guy a lot and i cant imagine him excelling at using a printer by himself, so time to make a cutesy scenario out of it where he makes a fool of himself!!! enjoy!! :3

maybe it was because of the big, fat, red "57" that was surely an adequate and representative grade for your work - and not just your geography teacher being a bitch - but for some arbitrary reason, an itch developed in the back of your brain and made you feel a bit less tolerant of stupidity. at least until you get back home and sleep like a comatose patient.

you felt a slight comfort in knowing that even the self-proclaimed class genius got a gut-wrenching 60 on the same test, which isn't the nicest way of finding inner peace, but who cares? besides, geography is for losers who want to make statistics about the declining birth rate, and you couldn't care less about women giving birth to less and less children with each passing decade. strutting down the empty hallway, you gripped the sheet containing the answers to the questions with a bit too much intensity and aggression, slightly creasing it in your hand but you had bigger things to worry about. the printer room.

the godforsaken printer room - that served as the only motive to still keep hallway number 4 of the third floor accessible - possessed a myriad of faults and problems, the worst one being that they rarely kept the ink fresh; 'they' being the student body whose only involvement was that. keeping the ink fresh. they didn't even have to buy it, their only job was checking the printer's ink every 4 to 5 days and replace the cartridge if needed so. but, suprisingly (considering how competent they usually are), no one was bothered enough to accomplish this single task. nevertheless, it seemed that you weren't the student to first stumble upon this inconvenience today. the door to the printer room was slightly ajar and the lights were clearly on, so someone had to be in there.

taking the final steps, you lightly pushed the door all way to the end and gazed upon the wall where the (shitty) printers sat on an alignment of old desks. there was someone, you knew that already, but that someone seemed a bit familiar.

oh. it's that super soccer guy from bambi osaka. kawaru tamiko.

or at least you thought that was his name. you weren't good with names.

he was leaning forward against a table carrying an old canon®, tilting it forward with a grip on either side, and his hair flattened against the wall. almost like a person checking the label on the back of a cargo box that was too heavy to move. he was probably trying to look at the wires in the back, there was no other explanation for such an awkward posture.

it took him a few seconds to notice your presence, partly because he was so engrossed in the printer, and partly because you didn't care enough to say a word and instead opted for standing awkwardly with a hand on the doorframe. he turned his head towards you a first time and immediately went back to the printer before rapidly turning his head towards you again, this time fully absorbing your existence. kawaru abruptly let go of the table, producing a loud noise as it hit the wall, making you slightly wince at the idea of an even more damaged printer. you walked towards him.

running two fingers on the dust coating the surface of the printer, you lazily muttered, "it's not working, is it?", expecting nothing less from junk that was probably in use from before the fall of the soviet union. he had stood up straight and begun to awkwardly swing his arms back and forth, a clear attempt at de-stressing. "err, no, pretty sure there's a wirin' problem," he answered, though you were moreso talking to yourself than him, but that didn't matter.

"and uhh, this button right here hasn' stopped flashin' ever since i turned the thing on. prob'ly needs a technician," he continued, forcing a more assertive tone towards the end. you asked him to show you what button he was talking about, so he eagerly pointed at a flashing button located on the left side control panel of the printer. a button that had the image of an opaque drop on it. a button that had the faded word "ink" written underneath it.

the printer was working fine. it just needed ink.

and he thought it was broken.

you stood there in silence, physically and mentally unable to comprehend how someone can miss such an obvious clue. you didn't take your eyes off the flashing button, breathing quietly, trying your best to not lash out on kawaru. you noticed a frizzy lock of hair sticking out from your head and proceeded to tuck it behind your ear, then put your hand over your mouth in an attempt to hide your frustration, eyes still on the flashing button.

karasu, on the other hand, was waiting next to you, though his eyes were moreso fixated on you than the printer. did he know you? he didn't think so, but you seemed like someone he can find interest in, definitely the thinker kind since you appeared to be pondering a solution to this ordeal in a rather sophisticated manner. other questions flowed through his mind: what class were you in? were you a 3rd year? were you in the advanced course? did you have any mutual friends? did you do any extracurriculars? did you like soccer? have you ever been to one of his matches? he couldn't stop the flow of possiblities as to how to get to know you.

"there's no ink." "yer kinda cute."

you slowly turned your head to face him, body stiff and unmoving. he realized how outlandish the comment he just made was, and possibly inappropriate considering the circumstance.

"huh?" "what?"

you blinked at him with gradually developing bewilderment, fully certain that you heard what you heard but that didn't change the fact that you weren't awaiting that from him.

and sadly, you couldn't say that it displeased you. the opposite actually.

"i err, i...anyway, you said ink? there's a few cartridges in the desk's cubby. whaddya need? black? magenta? cyan? yellow?", he started to speak again at a fast pace, wanting to get done with this interaction and dwell in sorrow from his incapacity to talk to cute girls. "black's fine," you answered, looking away to make it less embarrassing from him. he dug in the cubby for a moment, hand banging the sides of the metal compartment before he got hold of a blocky object. he read the cartridge's sticker and made sure it was black ink before standing up again.

you expected him to press the button that dislodged the upper half of the machine and replace the cartridge, however, he stood quietly, fiddling with it while nervously looking at and away from you multiple times. oh. he doesn't know how to replace ink. exhaling through your nostrils, you stuck out your hand, wordlessly demanding him to hand it over - an order he prompty followed.

karasu felt you snatch the cartridge before he could even fully place it on your palm, making him feel even more guilty for wasting your time. he watched as you effortlessly pressed a series of buttons, took out things, replaced things and before he knew it, you snapped the top of the printer back on, which caused the flashing button to stop doing so. was he a loser or were you just a printer connoisseur? he didn't care enough to think of an answer though, he was once again focused on subtly seducing you and make you notice his more pleasant qualities.

you chose to ignore him for the rest of your stay in the printer room, procuring 35 copies of the sheet and preparing to leave when you felt a hand (his hand) lightly tap you on your back.

"yes?," you said, though you recognize you could have said it with a bit less bluntness in your voice. he took no notice of this however, and asked, "what's yer name? i think we've met before."

"(last name) (first name). no, we've never met, or at least i don't think we did," you replied before staring at him with more attention than before, noticing a few details about him that you missed. for example, the mole on his upper left cheek, or the weird angle at which his hair was styled. what kind of fucking product would you need for that?

"ah, hahaha, my bad, i was prob'ly thinkin' of someone else. umm, i...i meant what i said earlier," he mumbled his words more and more. you raised an eyebrow, not getting what he meant by 'what i said earlier', before remembering that he had called you cute. oh, right. that happened.

you involuntarily flashed a face of understanding, then lowered your head to bite your cheek. you didn't want to look like a loser while trying to hide your smile, a smile you rarely gave to guys with bad flirting skills, albeit this one was of the more good-looking variety so you can superficially excuse his lack of skills. "thanks, that was very sweet. i wasn't expecting it but it's still sweet. thank you."

"i can help ya' carry those papers to your classroom, that looks a bit heavy-"

"it's fine, really. but i do have a question. what's your name?"

his expression changed from nervous suaveness to a giddy grin, feeling honoured that you were interested in his name. "karasu tabito. i play for the local youth team, bambi osaka. you didn't ask fer that but, y'know...," ah. that was his name. karasu tabito. kawaru sounded a bit too childish for a guy like him.

"karasu tabito. yeah, i've seen you play. you're fun to watch." you tried to lighten the mood a bit cause the boy was seconds away from developing a rash if he kept scratching his neck like that.

"fun to watch? me? oh, thanks. i've been called a 'good player' and 'excellent' even, but 'fun', i've never gotten that before. w-whaddya mean by that though? what's fun, my playstyle or my presence or-,"

you couldn't afford wasting any more time than you already have, so cutting him off, you replied, "fun as in watching you in your element is rather entertaining, i don't do much sport outside of PE, but i can tell you love what you do. sorry, i have to leave, my teacher is gonna be up my ass about taking so much time."

karasu's lips formed a thin line, bitter about not making much of this exchange. and before he could even hold himself back, his mouth let out, "wanna watch my practice after school? you don't have to stay fer the whole thing, jus' to show you how i play outside of official matches."

"sure."

"what? hu-"

"i said, 'sure'. i'll watch you, i'll even stay for the whole practice, i've got nothing. catch you at the shoe lockers, bye."

and with that (plus a quick smile to soften the blow), you speedwalked out of the printer room and began to go down what felt like a dozen floors.

you didn't allow yourself to think about what happened up there, to avoid cringing at your bizarre attitude and not think about the fact that a (weird) guy you would consider somewhat out of your league, just asked you to watch him play.

bonus!!

lunch break finally rolled around, and your friends typically hung out in an obscure part of the courtyard to eat while hiding their cellphones from any faculty members. checking your messages, you noticed an instagram dm from someone whose username already crossed your mutual recommendations but you never took the time to open their profile.

kr_tabito23.

-> coach is sick but i still want an excuse to talk to you

-> there's this really rad crepe shop in namba parks

-> im paying :]

-> you can't say no

-> lol kidding

-> sorry that was weird

you giggled at whatever he was trying to achieve, he was definitely a dork. you didn't mind that.

-> sure. still gonna catch you at the shoe lockers c:

and somewhere in the school, on the opposite side of the main building, next to the fountain where he and his friends usurped the benches, karasu jumped from his seat and into the air, bumping his fist and yelling unintelligible words while his friends watched, confused but happy for their normally cool and collected fellow.

★ berry's post-writing note: guys im gonna be honest i hate the ending my inspiration juice ran out so i just came up with something but i feel like it could've been a bit better. still happy that i wrote something cause ive been in a long ass writer's block since?? what??? february? anyway, criticism is always accepted and uhh thank you for reading till the end!! <3

#berry.writes <3 #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #karasu x reader #karasu tabito x reader #karasu tabito #tabito karasu

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scientia-rex · 13 days

Text

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

#the attending dr. kristophine

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lady-ashfade · 5 days

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Sorrow Flowers

Yan!Class 1A x Reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Hanahaki disease is hard in all cases. But when you have a group of people in love with you it becomes a bigger problem, since you must love another…

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short blurb, hanahaki disease, angst, yandere behavior, blood and kinda gory.

dark circles appear under your eyes rather quickly, and in training you seemed to be weaker then normal. at first they thought you were becoming sick with the flu or over working yourself. the class babied you all of the time and made sure to do what they thought was best.

and slowly you came down with a nasty cough. they were so worried and even took you to Recovery Girl to get better. she couldn’t find anything wrong with you- she didn’t know what to test and look for so you went undiagnosed.

clinging to your throat you fell in training and tried to breath and cough up whatever was coming up. your body was sweating and panicking from the pain and lack of air you had. Aizawa was the first one at your side with the others rushing as well.

“Come on, kid.” his hand slapped the back of your back to try and help you breathe. iida was already on his way to get recovery girl. your class mates look in horror, some of them already crying and screaming for you.

blood…

blood splatter onto the floor from your lips and something rolled along with it. you gasped for air as the some blood dripped from down your chin. tears rolled down your eyes. everyone looked down to the thing on the ground, something was blocking your pipes. and what they saw was nothing they thought they had to worry about. a black flower covered in blood, some clots too.

you had hanahaki disease.

the disease for unrequited loved. you loved someone else that wasn’t them. since every one of them was obsessed over you, worship the ground you walked on, wanted nothing more then to have you. that means you didn’t love any of them…and someone undeserving.

the gazes of everyone in the room darkened to black and red. someone had made you this way. you could have died and if it isn’t fixed they could lose you anyway. and that person need to pay. your teacher took you into his arms and carried you to the infirmary to get you some rest and medicine to help, while the others stayed behind to figure everything out.

“this is why I told you idiots to keep a closer eye on them, this is all your faults.” katsuki yelled while pushing pasted them to go and found anyone he could. honestly, after he found the person responsible he might take care of his class mates too because they are equally responsible.

“if you weren’t such a asshole they might have stayed with us! It’s not our fault,” Mina shouted and huffed out.

“whatever it takes we’ll make them better. but for now,” Izuku mumbled with his quirk activated on his own and his body shocks green.

“we need to take care of the disgrace of a person responsible.”

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Haven’t written something finished in a long time, so this probably sucks. I have been in a big writes block.

#yandere class 1 a #yandere imagines #yandere class 1 a x reader #yandere class 1a #yandere class 1a scenarios #yandere class 1a x reader #yandere tenya iida #yandere Mina ashido #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere deku #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere Bakugo #yandere shota Aizawa #yandere izuku midoriya x reader #yandere x reader #short blurb #tw yandere

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cinemadaydream · 2 years

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I want this baby with you | Conrad Fisher

Requested by @aliviarivers Hope you enjoy!

pairing: Conrad Fisher x reader

warnings: pregnancy, Belly is kind of a jerk in this one, slight angst.

"I think you and I need to take some time apart."

Your heart aches as Conrad says the words you've been expecting him to say for the past few weeks.

"It's because of Belly, isn't it?" you ask him even though you already knew the answer.

You noticed it a week ago. It started with subtle glances between the two of them that you tried your hardest to ignore.

It wasn't until he had blown you off to go with her to the deb ball, making up an excuse that Susannah had asked him to take her that you knew it wasn't in your head. You knew immediately that he was lying, Susannah had talked about how excited she was to see you and Conrad dressed up together and how she was going to ask Jeremiah to ask Belly.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just Belly and I have always had this unspoken thing between us, and I just want to explore it. To see if it could be more than that."

"If that's what you want to do, then I can't stop you. I hope she makes you happy." You sniffle. You weren't mad, just heartbroken. You cared about both of them deeply and didn't want to be the one getting in the way if they were meant to be with each other no matter how much it hurt you.

"I hope you know that I'll always love and care about you." Conrad says before his eyes shut, walking closer to you before kissing you softly on the forehead. Instead of pushing him away, you let him before you turn away leaving him standing alone at the gazebo.

You were miserable.

It had been a week since Conrad had broken up with you and you hadn't gotten out of bed much since then. The only time you did was to eat but you found it hard to keep anything down. You didn't think much of it, passing it off as your bodies response to crying so much.

It didn't even cross your mind that something else could be causing it until your eyes drift to the unopened box of tampons on your bathroom sink while you're brushing your teeth after getting sick for the second time in an hour.

Your period was late.

Panic rushes through you as you rinse your mouth out before rushing out of your bathroom, quickly sliding your shoes on and grabbing your keys. You tell your mom you're leaving before you get in the car and head to the store.

It doesn't take long for you to get to the store before you're standing in front of a bunch of pregnancy test panicking even more than you were before. You take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves before grabbing a couple of tests to make sure and going home.

You hide all of the test in your purse, quickly rushing up the stairs and locking your door just in case someone tried to come in. You tear open each box before peeing on the sticks and setting a timer for three minutes.

You're pacing back and forth anxiously when the timer goes off, making you stop dead in your tracks. You turn the timer off and take a deep breath before going to look at the test.

All of them said positive. You were pregnant.

Pregnant with Conrads baby.

The thought of him causes the familiar ache in your chest and before you know it, tears start to roll down your cheeks. You cross your arms as you slide down your bathroom wall silently crying.

How were you supposed to tell him? He just left you for Belly. You knew telling him would complicate things even more and the thought of him not wanting the baby scared you. You didn't care if he wanted the baby or not, you were keeping it despite how scared you were about becoming a mother.

It felt like hours before your tears stopped flowing and you picked yourself up off of the floor. You splash cold water on your face before grabbing the test and putting them in your purse so no one could find them until you were ready for people to know.

Just as you go to lay in bed, your phone buzzes and you sigh when you see its Jeremiah. He had called and texted you a bunch of times, but you ignored him You ignored everyone, not wanting to talk about what had happened.

please just let us know you're okay. We miss you. The text reads. You sigh before messaging him back.

I'm fine. Just needed time. I miss you guys too.

Your phone almost immediately buzzes as soon as you reply. How pissed would you be if I told you I'm at your front door?

You groan in frustration. You really didn't want to see him right now, but you didn't want to tell him to go away. Being mean to Jeremiah was impossible. He's been your best friend since you two were in diapers.

You walk downstairs and open the door letting him in. His facial expression softens at the sight of you before he pulls you in for a hug and you quickly return it.

You both let go and he follows you upstairs into your room, sitting down next to you on the bed.

"I'm sorry my brothers a dick." Jeremiah breaks the silence. You laugh before nodding your head.

"Yeah, he kind of is." you agree.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about him but honestly he's acting like a lost puppy without you."

"He's the one who broke up with me."

"I know that. But I know him y/n. He's not as happy with Belly as he is with you. He's moodier than normal and everyone sees it but Belly. I don't see how she hasn't picked up on it yet."

"Is this all you came here to say?" you ask suddenly annoyed at the mention of Belly. You meant it when you said you cared about her, but you didn't want to hear about them.

Jeremiah sighs before leaning against your headboard. "Don't be mad, but Conrad asked me to check on you. Everyone hasn't heard from you, and we were all worried... I was going to come here before he even mentioned it."

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Conrad caring enough to make Jeremiah check on you. You quickly buried that feeling down though knowing there was no use of getting excited. He had made his choice and you needed to be okay with it.

"I really am okay, Jere. I appreciate you coming to check on me." you smile softly at him. He smiles back before nodding his head.

"Of course." Jeremiah says His phone dings. You watch him read the text as he sighs. "I know you probably don't want to see her, but Belly is in my car. She wanted to come and make sure things were okay between you both still."

Your breath hitches in your throat. You wish you told him to leave. You weren't ready to talk to her. You didn't even get the chance to fully process that you were pregnant and now you had to deal with this.

You nod, giving him the okay to tell her she can come in. You decided it would be better to go ahead and deal with her and then later you would talk to Conrad. You wanted him to be the first to know about the baby. You'd let him be the one to tell Belly if he chose to.

It's not long before she's knocking on your bedroom door. "Come in." you tell her. She opens your door and closes it quietly behind her. You watch her for a moment as she stands in front of your door awkwardly.

"You can come sit if you want to." you say looking down at your hands in your lap. You hear her mumble out a soft okay before Jeremiah scoots over some to let Belly sit in front of you.

"I just want to say I'm really sorry, y/n. It's just I've liked him since we were kids and he's finally seeing me the way I've been waiting for him to." Belly explains. "I hope that we can still be friends."

You wanted to yell at her. Tell her that you've been in love with him since you were little too. But you don't. You stay quiet wrapping your arms around your stomach.

"I think the two of you should go now." you finally say. You glance at Jeremiah who's looking at you sadly. Belly sighs before she stands up a little too quickly accidently knocking your purse over and everything inside of it comes out.

"Shit. I'm sorry." She says reaching down to pick up the mess. Your eyes go wide as you leap in front of her trying to grab the test before she sees it.

You realize you're too late as her body stiffens and Jeremiah sees it too as you hear him mumble holy shit under his breath.

You snatch the pregnancy tests up and put everything in your bag before standing up to look at them. Both of their facial expressions were mixed with shock.

"Are you pregnant?" Jeremiah asks despite knowing. The positive test result very clearly had two lines, but he just needed to hear you actually say it.

"Yes I am."

You don't look at them in fear about what their reactions would be. You wanted to cry again. It was supposed to be Conrad finding out first, not them.

"I don't think you should tell Conrad." Belly says.

"What is wrong with you, Belly? It's his kid. Of course she should tell him." Jeremiah snaps at her before looking at you. "You are going to tell him, right?"

"I'm going to. You guys showed up just a little after I had taken the test." You were slightly angry about Belly's response but chose to ignore it. You really just wanted this to be over. Please don't tell him. I want to be the one to do it."

They both nod before getting up to leave. Belly makes her way out of your room saying a quick goodbye, but Jeremiah stays behind pulling you into a hug careful not to squeeze too hard.

"No matter what happens I'll always be here for you. I know Conrad can be an asshole, but I don't think he will be one about this. You should talk to him, don't listen to Belly. She just knows he still loves you and knows this will make things complicated."

You smile softly. "I will."

"That's all I ask." he replies before letting you go and leaving.

You collapse on your bed with a sigh thinking about a good way to tell Conrad before you pull out your phone.

Can we talk? You stare at the text for a moment before hitting send.

You bite your lip as you wait for a response, but as minutes pass by you realize you probably weren't going to get one right now. It was late, he was probably already sleeping by now.

With a sigh, you toss your phone next to you before rolling over and closing your eyes. The day's events exhausted you, so it didn't take long before you were fast asleep.

You woke up with the same overwhelming nausea feeling that has been waking you up for the past week. You quickly get out of bed and rush into the bathroom before getting sick.

Once you finish you quickly brush your teeth and wash your face before walking over to your bed and grabbing your phone.

Your heartbeat quickens when you see a message from Conrad. You waste no time unlocking your phone and reading the message.

Of course. Is everything okay?

You sit down on your bed before typing your response.

Do you think we can talk face to face? I don't want to talk about it over text.

Sure. I'll be home soon if you want to come over.

See you soon. You reply to him and stand up. You get dressed and head downstairs to try to get something to eat before going to his place.

You settle for a piece of toast and some water in hopes it wouldn't upset your stomach. You quickly eat before getting into your car and heading over to his place.

It doesn't take long before you're in his driveway. You force yourself to unbuckle yourself and get out of the car, going to the front door and knocking.

Jeremiah is the one who opens the door for you. He smiles widely when he sees its you, opening the door further to let you in. "Glad you're here." he says.

"I figured I might as well tell him today." you reply.

He nods in understanding. "He's in the kitchen."

"Thanks, Jere." You smile at him before you walk towards the kitchen. Your hands shake slightly as you walk in and see him sitting at the kitchen table eating muffins.

"Hey." you say, your voice barely above a whisper. He turns to look at you and your heart feels like it might explode seeing him again.

You notice his eyes have dark circles under them. He looked exhausted and it made you frown. You knew you probably didn't look much better though. You could feel your face still swollen from the amount of crying you've been doing.

"Hey." he replies. You don't say anything nor move from where you were standing. You feel frozen in place. You begin to say something but before you could get anything out, Belly comes in and notices you.

You watch her stop in her tracks, glancing at both Conrad and you before searching your faces for any sign that you told him about your pregnancy. Relief washed over her face when she realizes you haven't said anything.

Your heart drops when she walks over to Conrad and kisses him on the mouth right in front of you.

"We should go take a walk on the beach." Belly suggests to Conrad. You watch Conrad look at Belly before looking back at you, trying to decide what to do.

"Actually y/n and I were about to talk. We can after?" Conrad asks.

"It's fine. You two go ahead. We can talk about this another time." you say finally finding the courage to move from the spot you had been standing in.

"Are you sure?" Conrad stands up and walks towards you.

"I'm sure, it's fine." you say turning on your heels and walking fast out of the kitchen.

Jeremiah sees you rushing out of the house and quickly gets up off the couch to stop you. "Hey, hey. What's wrong? Did he not take it well?"

"I didn't tell him. Belly came in and asked him to go on a walk with her on the beach." you rush out, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. You were tired of how much you had been crying. "She kissed him in front of me. I just want to go home; I'll tell him another time."

Jeremiah sighs before nodding and letting you leave.

Jeremiah knew Belly had done it on purpose. The entire car ride home last night she wouldn't stop telling him she didn't want Conrad to know about the baby, that it wasn't going to do any good and that it was pointless for him to find out about a child he'd have with a girl he doesn't want.

He was pissed and snapped at her. That was his soon to be niece or nephew and he couldn't help being a little excited about it. As much as Jere loved Belly, he couldn't believe how shitty she was being. Conrad deserved to know about the baby.

Jeremiah decided he was going to take matters in his own hands, not wanting to see you anymore hurt than you already were. Maybe it would be better if he told Conrad instead just in case there was a slight chance Conrad wouldn't want the baby. The stress couldn't be good for you or the baby.

He's waiting for about ten minutes when he finally sees Conrad and Belly walking back from the beach. Jeremiah lifts himself up from the side of the pool where he had been sitting with his legs in the water before making his way to them.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you Belly?"

Conrads looks at his brother confused before glancing at Belly. He could see a guilty look form on her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you want to tell him or should I?" Jeremiah asks.

"Don't do this, please." Belly pleads to Jeremiah, but he ignores her.

"He deserves to know the truth."

"Truth about what? What is going on?" Conrad asks. He looks at his brother waiting for him to speak.

"Y/n is pregnant. She came over here to tell you. We saw the test fall out of her purse last night and Belly told her not to tell you. That's why she asked you to walk on the beach with her."

"Is this true, Belly?" Conrad asks. His heart is hammering inside of his chest. Were you really pregnant? He felt so guilty for ending things between you. He missed you a lot, wanted to call you but refrained knowing it wasn't fair to do that to you.

Now he wishes he had. He wanted to hold you close to him and never let you go when he seen you in the kitchen. You looked fragile, he could see your face was puffy and your eyes were almost blood shot. He did that to you and he would never forgive himself for it.

"Y-Yeah. It is. I'm so sorry, Conrad." Belly cries. She tries to reach for Conrad's hand, but he yanks his away from her.

Conrads stomach churns as he pictures you taking the test and how scared you must have felt. Probably as scared as he was feeling right now. He should have been there for you, holding you and telling you things would be okay.

"I got to go talk to her."

"What about us, Conrad?" Belly asks. Conrad sighs deeply.

"I'm sorry but there should have never been an us to begin with. I love y/n. We shouldn't have done this."

Conrad rushes past Jeremiah and grabs his keys before driving to your place.

He pulls up into your driveway and parks his jeep before reaching in his pocket and grabbing his phone and calling you.

"Can you let me in?" Conrad asks. You tell him yes and his heart breaks a little hearing your voice crack. He could tell you had been crying.

Your opening the door as Conrad walks up to your porch, and he makes his way into your house before you both go up to your room.

"Conrad I-" You begin to say but he interrupts you kissing you hard on the mouth. You're shocked at first, but you eventually close your eyes and kiss him back. He's the first to pull away, still holding your face with his hand.

"I know you're pregnant." he says.

You move his hand from your face and walk to sit on your bed. "I assume Jeremiah told you."

"He did. I'm sorry you didn't get to. I should have stayed and talked to you." Conrad sits down next to you before taking your hands into his.

"It was probably better that way." you shrug looking down at your guys' hands.

"I want this baby with you." Conrad says making you look up at him. Your body instantly relaxes as relief washes over you.

"I'm glad. I was scared you wouldn't." you tell him. "I think we could make good co parents if we try."

Conrad shakes his head. "I don't want to be co parents, I want to be with you. I fucked up."

"I don't want you to be with me only because we're having a baby, Conrad. I want you to be with me because you want to be with me."

"I do want to be with you." he reassures you. "I shouldn't have broken up with you. It was only a week, but it was one of the longest weeks I've ever had. I missed you like crazy."

"Then why did you breakup with me to begin with if Belly wasn't who you wanted?"

"I don't know. I guess I just wanted to see if there really was something between Belly and I the way everyone kept suggesting. My mom loves you, but she always joked about losing one of us to Belly. I guess I got so caught up in what everyone kept telling me that I risked losing the girl I really love."

And for the first time that week you begin to cry for a different reason. You were happy and relieved. You move over to him and wrap your arms around him. "I love you too, Conrad. But if you ever do anything like that again, I won't take you back. I mean it." you warn.

"Trust me, I don't plan on it I plan to show you how sorry I am every single day for the rest of our lives." You can hear his voice crack and you don't need to see his face to know he's crying too.

"I can't believe we're going to be parents." you mumble against his shoulder.

"I can't either. I can't wait." Conrad says chuckling as he lets you go to place a kiss on your lips.

You couldn't wait either. You were more than excited, knowing Conrad and you were going to be good parents to your unborn child.

#conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #tsitp imagine #tsitp #tsitp x reader

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lily-radiance · 1 month

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Picture Perfect Psychopath

Doctor Jonathan Crane/ fem reader.

3.9k words

(So far, this is just a drabble, but I do have an idea of where this story could go. I've been watching The Dark Knight trilogy and got inspired. Reader works at Arkham Asylum as a psychiatrist, sharing the field of study with Scarecrow and old flame Harley Quinn. Likely not canon-compliant. Kinda merged various movies since I'm no comic book expert.)

Arkham Asylum is a cesspool of depraved criminals, as it has been for the past few years. Typical people who are suffering from mental illnesses and were sent away without care were obvious. This institution was the cheapest and easiest way to lock up the sick, even before the creation of the vigilantes. Everyone in Gotham City knew to keep their eyes on the ground and act as if crimes were invisible. If you cause a fuss in any shape or form, don't be surprised if you get dragged away in a body bag. You hated the mere thought of disregarding the pain of the city, but what could you do if no one would listen? Criminals, no matter the type, always have a story to tell.

“Bruce, the next time you interrupt my work for a house call, I'm stealing your Batmobile!”

You've been sitting in Wayne Manor for the past two hours, all because your friend wanted to “check-in” on the status of the newest patients. On any other day, you might have given him leniency, but he's been siphoning you for information without a decent break. Now, you not only have to write and submit a few dozen reports before sunset, all while juggling Bruce Wayne. The billionaire rolls his eyes but smiles, enjoying a day where he can loosen up and act as a person instead of a shadow.

“Nice try, but the garage is foolproof. I learned my lesson when you took my ride for a spin last year.”

You sip the cola in your hand, amused at the memory of speeding around the house and getting the vehicle caked in dirt. You apologized to Alfred when realizing the butler had to clean it afterward.

“Too bad, I was hoping to test the maximum speed,” you said with a chuckle, “I'm kidding, of course.”

“Sometimes, I worry about your coworkers. Do they know how much damage you can cause when bored?”

You glare at him from the couch. Work was something you liked to keep separate from life; he knew that very well. After all, if someone identified Batman successfully, then Wayne Enterprises would crumble in on itself.

“Do you know how much damage you cause when I'm not around to cover your tracks? Honestly, you may give Alfred a heart attack.”

The butler frowns at your humor before taking your empty glass. You notice the lipstick mark left over, reminding yourself to reapply the makeup. Psychiatric professionals do their best to look formal, and this habit has followed them since college. When you consider the many polished individuals at the facility, one is always at the forefront of your mind: Doctor Jonathan Crane. No matter the time of day, his appearance is that of near perfection, or you like to think so. Today, you have a briefing with him, and the idea has prompted you to dress to impress; the shade of cherry red on your lips is a testament to that.

“I'm always careful, (Y/N). I have Gordon, Alfred, and Lucius for that very purpose. You know Arkham is filled with lunatics and, more specifically, the worst villains.”

“We've had this conversation before, Bruce. I'm good at my job, and the people you lock up are kept in the deepest parts. Plus, I always hear exciting stories, which makes time fly by!”

He gives you a stern glance, not happy with your unbothered attitude. You drop the smile and sigh.

“I know you think I can't handle myself in that place. You get up close and personal with villains more often than I do. Every floor has a ton of security guards, not to mention cameras and passcodes in each room!”

Eventually, he gives up the protective demeanor. If you needed his help, he was the first in line. If not, he would be prepared for the future.

“Right, I know you're responsible and cautious, (Y/N). It's still the institution with the most significant number of patients in Gotham, so I want you to stay alert. Tim and the others are patrolling tonight if you run into trouble. Remember, the GCPD is conducting investigations on a possible new perpetrator.”

You nod to his speech, tapping your heels underneath the coffee table. He is about to give you another piece of information, but the sound of the front door opening and hurried footsteps is your cue to leave. Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, and Jason Todd enter the room, waving a synchronous greeting in your direction. Your phone beeps in your jacket pocket, and you fumble the device when the caller is listed. Barbara notices your excitement and chuckles, watching as you answer the phone.

“Hello, this is (Y/N) (L/N); how may I help?”

“It's Dr. Crane, as you probably knew judging by how quickly you answered. The administration got caught up in other matters, so it's just you and me. Don't be late.”

The voice catches you off guard, your heart beating too quickly regarding the abrupt message. You lose your ability to speak, and like everything else, he's already caught a glimpse of it.

“Doctor—what about the meeting on security clearances? We still have much to discuss with the board; isn't this important?”

“I've already taken care of most of the concerns. Currently, my priority is talking to you about your individual endeavors regarding Arkham. Do you have an issue with this?”

As he asks, you know he's not looking for an honest answer. You swallow your pride, although tempting to draw on this further.

“No, Doctor. I'm on my way right now.”

“Good, I have high hopes you'll be fascinated by my newest work.”

You have nothing else to add as he hangs up, an annoying habit you wish didn't leave you bitter. Barbara steps over, raising a brow in examination. Your behavior, coupled with the alluring cosmetics on your face, indicates an attention to detail made to attract. The young woman tilts her head, examining your efforts, and pauses. She prevents your curiosity by grabbing a maroon scarf hung on the hat rack and placing it on your neck. As she wraps the fabric loosely around your collar, she discreetly whispers, “In case whoever you see leaves a mark or can't keep you warm. It also matches your lipstick.”

The redhead winks at you, knowing that finding worthwhile men in Gotham is a rare treat. If only you knew who you were falling for, maybe someone else could have turned your head. The likelihood of your coworker getting obsessed with another pretty face was nonexistent, especially when he knew every method of pushing your buttons.

Gotham weather stands to be frigid regardless of the season, and the cold water on your cheeks proves it. Hurriedly, you head to your car, jumping in the driver's seat and turning the hot air on. You flip the sun visor down, using the compartment mirror to double-check your appearance. You smile, wink, and perform other expressions to understand if this is too much. It's not like you dressed yourself in fancy attire, but the makeup sensation tells you this is different—the scarf clings to your shoulders, adding an extra layer of comfort.

The City appears as dreary as ever, with gray clouds looming over the skyscrapers. You knew this landscape was not as picturesque as the Bahamas, but it was familiar. In this place, you felt like a necessary presence, that your actions were genuinely helping people live. Others complain that they think soulless thoughts and have no purpose in a city of thugs, but they don't see the possibilities. No, you appreciated the constant ebb and flow pattern because it meant everything was up to chance. Unlike Harvey Dent, you had no interest in flipping a coin to decide your fate; if you wanted something and could achieve it, why worry about the downfall? Bruce told you to avoid trouble, and maybe if you tried harder, you could, but curiosity always took control. The night turned Gotham into a place of both dreams and nightmares. When the streets glow amber and the windows shine with the moon, the law is subject to change.

Rain slams against the windshield, the downpour forcing you to drive at a snail’s pace. Common sense doesn't stop other drivers from taking risky turns; some cars cut in front despite your right of way. You honk your horn at the reckless speeding, internally regretting this venture. At least twenty minutes have passed since you left, and yet you're still running late. Luckily, most security guards let you pass immediately, while one or two demand identification. If you weren't so anxious, you would see the multiple faults that made Arkham’s reputation. People were lazy, some slacking without a care. Others were too busy dealing with life changes to support this institution.

The repetitive sound of your heels clicking on the tile floor draws someone's attention. Unfortunately, you can barely avoid this girl regularly, so it makes sense that she would be another obstacle.

“Woah, pudding, you getting ready for the runway or something? I haven't seen you wear red in a long time. It makes a girl wonder, what's the occasion?”

Harleen Quinzel stands in her cell, dressed in a jumpsuit that does her no justice. Her usually dyed hair is unkempt and faded, now a dirty blonde with pigment spots. Despite her living situation, her personality is still bubbly. She holds a bent cigarette and takes a drag, then tosses the leftovers underneath her boots. The woman approaches the metal bars, wrapping her hands around two and leaning through the gap. A stream of smoke is exhaled into your face, the delinquent playfully puckering her lips.

“I have a critical meeting with Dr. Crane, and it was supposed to be with the rest of the board until something got in the way. I'm running late, and if I don't get to that office in time—”

Harley raises her index finger, pressing against your lips to stop your words.

“That does sound like a pretty jumbo deal, dollface! From one doctor to another, rescheduling an administrative meeting is unnecessarily convoluted!”

She moves her hand to cup your jaw, tilting your face in multiple angles to glimpse your handiwork. A smile spreads across her lips, her tongue licking the front of her teeth. It makes you nervous, and she knows it.

“I mean, he said he ‘took care of it,’ but I don't know if that necessarily means it was rescheduled. The board could have discussed several possibilities, so I can't guarantee anything.”

You don't know what she's trying to prove.

“Something tells me your lover boy isn't inviting you for a simple coffee. No, with a mind as unpredictable as his, I bet you'll leave here with more than a headache. That is, if you leave at all, dollface.”

Her voice digs further into your mind, higher-pitched as she giggles to herself. You adjust the scarf to distract yourself, but she won't let this topic rest.

“Harley, as much as I appreciate what I assume is a concern, I know what I'm doing.”

“Sure you do, pudding. You think he's all sweet and charming, right? Doctor Jonathan Crane, who wears a nice suit and never gets his hands dirty? He probably compliments your work and swears to get back to your questions. I'll even bet he holds your hand a little too long when he shakes it, and you don't say anything because you want his hand on yours.”

She sees the blush rising to your cheeks and continues to torment you. You can't breathe clearly, not when your lungs burn like this.

“Oh, I bet you want him to do all sorts of things to you. When he holds your hand, do you imagine it somewhere else on your body? Do you think he'll have you by the waist while his other hand traces your neck? Will he squeeze your throat and bruise the pretty skin, rubbing his tongue up and down? Will you let him devour you as I did? I bet you'll have his handprints on your thighs for weeks, the dirty little secret that you keep to yourself?”

She plays with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around her fingers. You haven't been this close to her in years, and your proximity reminds you why. Getting close to villains is a quick path to insanity. You step away from the cell, regaining your focus. A pair of footsteps echo down the stairwell, slow and precise. When you turn, your coworker is impatiently waiting, a scowl etched onto his features as he stares between you and Harley Quinn. The blonde enthusiastically waves at him, earning a glare.

“Come along; we have lots to discuss and little time to waste. I thought I clarified that I wanted you in my office five minutes ago.”

You follow his figure, a knot in your stomach at his unusual mood. The doctor could be a pain when it came to protocols, but you two got along reasonably well. He gave you criteria to follow, and more often than not, he liked to debate your findings. You hoped this was a quick conversation, but then it didn't make sense that he instructed you to take a ferry for something he could have said on the phone.

“Yes, I had to drive through the rain and rush in traffic. I wasn't counting on the weather to be so awful or for Harley Quinn to pull me aside.”

He waits by the top of the stairwell for you, watching as your heels tap the concrete. It amazed him: the concept of walking on elevated stilts that could snap like a twig. You don't miss how he scans your legs or how the muscles in your calves tighten. He extends a hand, presenting the cordiality that made you admire him in the first place. You hesitate with trembling fingers, muttering a quiet “thanks” as he holds your palm. He's warm, and it gives you too much satisfaction. Instead of letting go, he merely continues walking, carefully trailing his fingers over your radial pulse. Each thrum of your heartbeat is now in his possession of knowledge, tipping him off on your anxiety. The door to his office is down a corridor, only accessible to visitors and himself.

“Had you considered wearing gloves, Doctor? You might want to invest in case the temperature drops. If you can't use your hands, I suppose the mind is sufficient, but exhausting yourself unnecessarily is no good to anyone.”

You sit in one of the two chairs, removing your scarf and placing it in your lap. Crane takes his place behind the desk and falls into the chair, folding his hands on the flat surface.

“Believe me, if I could grab a few extra layers, I would have. I was visiting a friend when you called, and since you requested I hurry, there was no point in going home to change. I've lived in Gotham for a long time, and a storm isn't enough to stop me from doing my job. Anyway, you said there was something you needed me to examine?”

He slides a manilla folder towards you, numerous papers spilling from the seam. You take the hint to inspect the documents, flipping through the pages and absorbing the content. MRI scans, coupled with test results and psychological jargon, cover the sheets. You wrinkle your nose in focus, recognizing the highlighted areas of the brain as the amygdala and the frontal lobe. The human brain structure separates information based on its importance, using the amygdala for the fear response and the frontal lobe for rational thought. If one of these locations is compromised, whether by neural chemicals or injuries, the body cannot regulate its reactions to stressful environments. You continue reading, wholly fascinated by the hypotheses listed. The last few pages are still being worked on, primarily blank except for messily written notes. While your train of thought is still understandable, you remove a pen from your coat pocket and begin scribbling. He stares in amusement, pride blooming at your coinciding wonder.

“Doctor Crane, this is beyond incredible! If you were to develop this drug, who knows what group might want it? Not to mention the possibility of designing a formula with the opposite goal of annihilating fear entirely!”

He doesn't bother to hide the smirk on his face as you supply him an ego boost. Initially, he worried you would have an adverse reaction given your good-natured spirit, but those doubts were put to rest by the sight of your smile. The longer he allows himself to relax, the more his eyes are drawn to your lips. Red was a beautiful color on you, contrasting the dim aura of this hospital. As you revel in this energized state, you do not anticipate the foreign sensation of his mouth against yours. Recognition dawns on you as the scent of his cologne lingers, and the papers fall to the ground. You cautiously lean into his touch, grasping his shoulders to bring him closer. The fabric of his shirt bunches as you dig your fingers into the material. He has no qualms with your proximity, but he recognizes the trepidation in your movements for what it is: the worry that you'll scare him away. It's ironic, and it tells him that the only way to disprove your doubt is to make sure you know that this encounter isn't based on the heat of the moment.

He kisses you harder, pushing his tongue inside your mouth. You gasp in surprise, allowing him additional access, as well as the ability to overpower you. Never had you thought that the absurd fantasy of him kissing you would come to fruition, and certainly not in his office over research data. This was supposed to be a dull day of filing paperwork and overhearing business, not the instance where your co-worker, technically your boss, would be sharing saliva. His lips travel to your cheek, then your jaw, trailing down your neck. He has to remove the scarf and unbutton your collar to reach the desired location. You tilt your head back, moaning as he grows closer to your carotid vein. Similar to your earlier encounter, he locates your pulse, biting and sucking the skin as your heart rate increases. You admittedly have no idea what you're doing, but you do know that the image of him making out with you is extremely hot.

Yet, rational is a demon that you cannot leave behind. You're a scientist through and through, which means taking time to analyze the effects of this situation is necessary. Gently, you press against his chest, halting his actions and putting space between you. He looks down at you quizzically, adjusting his glasses that had fallen from the bridge of his nose.

“We could keep going with this course of action, not that I would complain, but maybe we should consider what we're getting ourselves into. I mean, we work together, and if we pursue a relationship, that could cause an entire slew of issues. Let’s cool our jets and think about this objectively before getting too deep.”

You feel a new weight on your chest as you try to analyze his expression. Most days, you could guess his emotions based on small talk, if he even spoke to you. Unfortunately, he's again acting like a blank slate, unreadable as the silence grows longer. Somehow, this enigma of a human specimen has become a magnetic field, drawing you in despite your better judgment. It's not that you don't want to see where this night goes, but the idea of committing to him, especially in the workplace, sends a chill down your spine.

“I see what you are getting at, (Y/N). It's not a problem if you want to think this over. Honestly, I prefer my opinion, but I see no fault in mulling it over. We wouldn't be scientists if we didn't leave decisions up to logic, would we?”

He seems calm enough, and that takes some of the pressure off. You breathe out a sigh before stretching your neck, still a bit unsure of what to do. Another beat of awkward silence follows before you work up enough courage to face him. Blue eyes catch your thousand-yard stare and dart back to the ground.

“It's getting late. D-do you need anything else from me, Jonathan?”

He is not expecting you to refer to him by his first name despite the circumstances. The sound of your hesitancy is still cute, and he wasn't expecting his name to sound so good on your tongue.

“No, I have everything I need. Do you want me to drive you home? The weather is still raining cats and dogs. Not only that, but Gotham is dangerous already, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt.”

The offer seems adequate, and you know precisely the dangers lurking outside. If not for crime and insanity, you wouldn't have a job, but that doesn't mean you want to get caught up in legal shenanigans.

“I drove to the docking bay with my car, so assuming you drive, that would leave one of us without our respective vehicles…”

“You're partially correct. I take a taxi to get around town most of the time so that I won't abandon my car here. Then again, if I drove your car, I would still have to call a cab at one point or another.”

His analysis has you pondering the options until you decide to wing it. You've already made out with your boss, how much worse could it get?

“Screw it, I'll call you a taxi myself. If the weather gets too bad, you can stay at my place for the night.”

You pick up your scarf from the chair, throwing it around your neck in preparation for the cold air outside. The hallways are still empty, and for once, you're glad since the quiet gives you space to think. All that's left is to descend the stairs, pass security, and get the hell out of there. You place your hand in your pocket to grab your identification card but pause as your co-worker is two steps ahead of you, already swiping his badge across the checkpoint. That's right, he has a higher security clearance than you; no wonder he's always early to the office.

“There ya’ are pudding! How'd that meeting go—”

Harley Quinn wastes no time in asking questions as soon as she sees you approach. The doctor next to you gives her a scowl like last time, but the reason behind it is different. Before, he was irritated by her peppy attitude, and now it's jealousy. The blonde’s expression turns into a frown, but covers it with her usual distaste for nitpicky professionals. You would find their disagreement amusing if not for your fresh taste of humanity from the critical doctor, his shell still rough around the edges. You let your mind wander, barely recognizing the arm around your shoulder until you feel the support of his body against you.

These moments are the ones that make your heart race and your mind split. You know this guy, right? He has to be one of the good men in this rotten city. If not, what would you do anyway?

If you like this check the updating version on ao3: Click

#x reader #fanfiction #batman begins #dark knight #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #drabble #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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feefymo · 3 months

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The Rorchach Effect - Part 1

Jimmy Darling x fem! reader - NSFW • MDNI word count: 2757 author's notes: it was like a multiple birth but here we are. This is my very first attempt of a fanfiction (and it's not written in my native language) but I worked a lot on it and I hope you enjoy it. I tried to keep It simple. After mulling it over I chose to divide the fic in two parts and yes: the smut is in the second part! It's not proofread because I'm a kamikaze, yes. Little curiosity: I was partly inspired by Saltburn and this soundtrack. What else? I'll leave you to read! Be kind, pleaseee! My hashtag is #ficfymo ! summary: Elsa threw a party for Jimmy's birthday but no one knows where he ended up. Fem! Reader POV. warnings: mention of violence, and blood. I think that's it, for now. https://open.spotify.com/intl-it/track/6Huqy9WdEE3rMazEQgajn2?si=2105621ac0044260

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome.

I'm the one they call the Rorschach Woman; my real name is not important.

Do any of you know what vitiligo is? Vitiligo is a disease but in the maternal arms of Elsa Mars, nothing is bad. None of her adopted children are sick: we all have a gift, don't we, Elsa? I had a boundless love for ballet, I was busily studying psychiatry, I was a "prodigy girl" or, at least, I thought I was. Then, the vitiligo showed up. What I thought was my downfall, according to Elsa, represented the true miracle. I gave up dancing; I gave up on my dream of becoming a researcher. I lost the support of my real parents because my appearance had changed but hey! Now I have my own number in Elsa Mars Freak Show. I'm here to enchant you. To let you read the spots on my face. I'm here to interpret your minds. This is my personal test of Rorschach, offered to you, kind audience. A few dollars and you can study me, myself every night but not every night are like this. Tonight I want to tell you a story 'cause today is my best friend's birthday. The brother I've chosen. Tonight, a big party was thrown for him but there's no trace of him. Where did you go, Jimmy Darling?

Let's take a step back.

I've never seen the camp so packed. Never. If all these people showed up for every show, each of us would be filthy rich. I don't understand how it is possible and yet, Elsa must have performed one of her magics. She says she consider Jimmy her blood, so she claimed to organize everything herself. She chose a party theme: "Normal People". She call it "satire", a mockery towards those who are truly considered normal. Some of us believed her, others adapted to avoid getting into trouble. The truth is that, by disguising ourselves according to the canons, we appear even less credible. Grotesque. Ridicolous. I couldn't resist a subtle provocation, so I made my complexion uniform but with the white of French mimes. Like a pierrot. Totally painted in white, I wander around in a champagne dress. I look like a crazy moth until I find the flame. That flame is Jimmy himself, surrounded by a myriad of strangers who urge him to blow out the candles.

- Happy birthday… uhm… -

- Happy birt… Joseph? -

- Jack? John? -

- I think it's Jimmy. -

- Jimmy? Are you sure? -

- JIMMY! -

The music does not cover the murmurs nor the embarrassment that comes down like a curtain. I try to push and elbow to reach my best friend but I can't. He's standing there, nerves to edge: he looks around, clenching his teeth. He seems lost while he's trying to put an unconvinced smile on his Peter Pan face. Once the candles have been blown out, Jimmy disappears in the general disinterest. Nobody cares, the party continues as if nothing had happened, fueling an atmosphere that has nothing normal about it. It's something like a mesmerizing nightmare in the suffused lights that Elsa had placed everywhere. A luminous design that even turns into a labyrinth in the wild meadow near the main event. It should be a modern fairy tale for the privileged who want to escape from the routine. For us, scum, it's an illusion. A utopia, a warning of what we will never achieve but I don't give a fucking damn. Sincerely. If I'm still here it's not because of Elsa nor because I truly appreciate her Cabinet Of Curiosities. I'm still here for my "acquired family" and for the boy who should be the protagonist of the evening which no one cares about.

Driven by the chaos, I search for familiar faces in the dim light until I come across Ethel; she shaved her chin. She is holding a plate with a slice of cake that she has prepared herself and she's standing in the dancing crowd, with a worried and resigned look. We both knows who the cake is for: Ethel has seen his son, maybe talked to him but she won't chase him. I prefer to not disturb her but I don't give up: retreating into a slit of darkness I collide with someone and jump perhaps exaggeratedly. Paul emerges from the darkness, rubbing his side with a grimace. He wears a hideous, gigantic suit to disguise his condition. It makes it look like a sad parallelepiped. Doctor Frankenstein's Creature.

-Paul, sorry! Did I hurt you?! -

-Nah, no biggies! What about you? You're nervous, what's happening? -

-Well, uh, I'm… have you seen Jimmy? I've been looking for him all night. -

- First I saw him with a brunette, she was dragging him towards El-'s tent… hey, that's the one over there! -

But the brunette is not in Jimmy's company: laughing rudely with her friends, she passes by me in a sweet-smelling cloud of glitters. She carries with her a kind of old oil lantern lit on a gesture that makes my blood run cold: cheeky, she twirls a battered glove on her head and, in one breath of Pink Lady, she's already too far away. Even though I would like to, I'm not going to confront her and complicate things because I prefer to follow her steps backwards. An alarm screams wildly inside me and I have to comply with it by launching myself out of the tent. The humidity of the night sticks to my skin, kneading the white paint that I thought was dry. I'm a mess inside and out but it doesn't matter at all.

- JIMMY! - I call, shout and run. I run, run, run like a fugitive. A voice whispers the worst to me and maybe I'm crazy but I can't help it. - JIMMY! - I keep repeating myself but he doesn't answer. The throat burns, the feet go by themselves, swaying dangerously on the heels. I didn't even realize I had ventured onto the lawn until I felt tickles on my ankles. Fräulain Elsa's illuminations invite me to follow their aura like drunken fireflies and I, disaffected, accept. I'm not afraid that Jimmy is dead but, worse, that he's gone. That he left me alone, leaving suddenly and without me. He promised me that if we ever succeeded, we would leave together and one suitcase would be enough to move to Europe. He always kept his promises, he…

I stop, crystallized in the heaviness of the evening. I hear noises scattered throughout the maze of light bulbs: they come from a specific point but they echo and bounce in the air. It sounds like the clumsy moan of an animal that it would be better not to get close to but I obstinately follow the source to the center of the maze. Once I reach my destination I jump somewhere between horror and relief, putting a hand to my mouth so as not to be discovered immediately. Sitting on the ground is Jimmy Darling. Hunched over, he turns his back to me and fiddles with something I don't understand. He is surrounded by objects, some of which I cannot distinguish. There are a few bottles including one of vermouth still sealed, half a lemon, a shirt reduced to a pile of wrinkles in Granada Green, the other glove specially sewn for the party. Some salt, perhaps? The worst aspect, the most dramatic touch, is a pinata hanging over his skull. A lobster-shaped pinata. As I try to figure out whether or not I'm awake, a low, deep growl forces its way into Jimmy's lungs, flaying them with increasing violence. The growl is quickly turning into the pained cry of an already wounded beast. I won't respect his privacy any longer, so I walk over to him and kneel before him.

- JIMMY! JIM, STOP IT! STOP, DAMMIT! - Jimmy was on the verge of cutting off his left hand with a rusty knife but my arrival ruined his plans. He doesn't recognize me right away and his immediate reaction is to turn against me. He is much, much stronger than me but, even if he vehemently chases me away, I attack again in what turns into a blind scuffle. The moment Jim realizes it's really me, he drops his guard groggily. He is no less upset, nor willing to suddenly change his mind but he grabs me by the elbows and pushes me away roughly so that I don't end up hurting myself. Crawling on the ground, he steps back before pulling himself up and staggering but he isn't drunk. He's been drinking but it's not the alcohol that shakes him like this: I recognize the difference, also because I've never seen him in this state. In his big good eyes there is no freshly roasted coffee but boiling petrolium. His expression, a cracked mask of hatred and at the same time authentic desperation, reduced to its core. He trembles in his sweat-soaked undershirt and makes a gesture that he has never deemed necessary in front of me. He hides his hands, trying in vain to put them in his back pockets, like a child caught red-handed. Does he feel reassured by my presence? Is he bothered by it? He's gasping.

Jimmy what… what are you doing? Why?! - I ask him in tears, advancing slowly on my knees. - NO! - he spits out a scream, trying to freeze me in place. - Please… Y/N, no. Enough. That's enough. - I shake my head, I'm confused and I rub my now soaked cheeks. Gray due to the white mixing with the black of the mascara.

- What are you talking about, pleas st-… -

- SHE SCREAMED, Y/N! SHE SCREAMED IN GENUINE TERROR, I TELL YOU!-

- BUT WHO, JAMES?! FOR GOD'S SAKE, WHO?! -

He hates it when I call him James but that seems strangely to appease him. He stares at me like a madman and, in silence, seems to wonder how it is possible that I don't know the circumstances of his delirium but, gradually, lucidity returns and, at the same time, an atrocious sadness. - That… oh, fuck. She was one of the very few people to smile at me and make me sincere wishes. Did she really want to spend time with me… did I fall for it like an idiot? I do not know. It was her! She chose it, I warned her but… - while Jimmy tries to explain, he forgets to hide from me and gesticulates, so I notice a burn on the hand that he was seriously about to cut off. The living flesh fades from red to the paleness of the bladder. Grains of not completely dissolved salt outline the surface like grotesque lace. He must have poured it in. - She took off my glove, alluding to my skills as a pilot but then a heartbreaking scream and… and… I had to let it go. Instead, I tried to calm her down but she…how the fuck is that possible? How did she not know I'm a fucking freak? It was written all over the damn thing! But she knew it. She knew it very well. My attentions were the perfect excuse to defend herself. She called me a monster, a half-man, an abomination and so on, you know, what's new? But then… she burned me with her fucking lantern. You convince yourself that you have a zest, that you are used to it and yet it's not true. And, as with Meep, the day comes when insults are no longer enough. - he doesn't have the courage to look at me but what he says is intimate. Devastating. Shareable. - The bar of wickedness is raised. Of course! That girl wasn't defending herself. She squirted oil on me once, twice, three times. She was torturing me, only stopped because I raised my arms and… the fear came back. She's gone. -

I'm annihilated. Annihilated by what I see and hear, I undergo the hypnosis of Jimmy's pain which soon becomes mine too. His irises are diluted by a sea of tears; suffering makes him unfairly wonderful. In the meantime I have reached him and, from the bottom of my position, I stare at him without embarrassment. I wrap one arm around his knees while the other grabs his good hand and places it on the back of my neck. He wants to take it away, he puts up a feeble resistance but he hears me sobbing and stops immediately. - Yes, Jimmy: her wish was to hurt you. This isn't a party, it's a visit to the slaughterhouse and we are the pigs. As always. - now I hold him with both arms, rubbing my face between his knees. The fabric of his trousers becomes stained white make-up until my skin is almost clean. I raise my head. My face's a palette used between stains that can be washed away and stains that my skin retains.

- Look at me. Are you looking at me? -

- I am. - he says, with the tone of someone who absolutely has to convince you. He hasn't noticed but he's stroking my hair. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down. -The kindness with which you caress me has never belonged to anyone among the few who have touched me. Not even my mother. - I'm deadly serious. I look at him with watery eyes but it's his tear that rains down my forehead. - Not even to myself. - because I mistreated myself, inflicted physical pain and consequent signatures but he… - If those are really claws, everyone should have them. Maybe they would learn what kindness is. - if I wasn't the one talking to him, he wouldn't believe me. He would mock me, it would be bitter and biting. Instead he fights with the truth that I offer him and stares at me dazed. Almost angry, hunted. The problem is that he believes me, so he picks me up and it's as if he's looking at me for the very first time. His forehead is damp with sweat, so I free his unruly curls before rummaging through my clutch bag. I make sure he follows my gestures and I take out a box of matches: I choose one and place it under the perfect curve of his nose. He flinches but stays as I light the end and, solemnly, set the piñata on fire. While the papier-mâché lobster is devoured by the flames, little by little, melted sweets and chocolate perish in the meadow. Neither of us needs to introduce what's about to happen: just as I stand on tiptoe, he lowers his disheveled head and the tips of our noses meet. It's the last chance to retract before the soft "m" of his upper lip meets my lower lip, dehydrated from makeup. In the first friction there is the disbelief of all the years in which we have not allowed ourselves and then, surrounded by the smell of burning, the kiss intensifies in an unstoppable crescendo. Jimmy wraps his bare arms around my body with the eagerness of someone who must survive. For my part, I let out a moan and cling to his shoulder blades: I realize what I wanted and how much I needed to be satisfied. Jimmy and I share the thrill of the kiss, so much so that he murmurs something incomprehensible against my teeth before parting them with his tongue and searching for mine. He holds my head as if I were water and he was drinking and he doesn't care about the cosmetic taste I have on; his lips turn pale. He slides down my neck without any self-control and I understand that he would take me here, right now. In the midst of the fire. - Wait. - I try to stop him with a deafening smooch. We are out of breath and the air is irrespirable but he stares at me with an imploring look. - How much longer? - he plead. I feel his blood vibrate under his golden skin, between the vertebrae of his broad back. - You have to trust me: I have an idea. - The smoke screen rises towards the sky and us. We… dissolve in the middle.

taglist: @taintandviolent @silverzoomies @doll3tt33 @wh0re43van @fear-is-truth + PLEASE, If you want to be added or I forgot someone, let me know!

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters fanfic #jimmy darling #ahs freakshow #evan peters smut #jimmy darling x reader #ahs murder house #ahs asylum #ahs hotel #ahs cult #ahs fandom #james patrick march #kit walker #kai anderson #ficfymo #angst #bff to lovers

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cod-dump · 6 months

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*breaks down your Inbox's door* *heavy breathing* I've made my own Shadow OCs but don't think this means I'm happy about it.

*I am actively losing sanity because Graves and his Shadows have me in a death grip*

So here, here are my Shadows. There's like nothing on them cause I've just now made this shit up for ~reasons~

Andrew 'Woody' Fallwood. Gets his callsign from his name and the fact he's a cowboy. Around 5'11", not very big but is plenty strong. He's a silly guy, likes to make jokes and stuff to keep the others calm, especially big boy Moose. Almost always has a cigarette in his mouth. Can be a bit of an ass but that's just cause he's a stubborn little Southern man. More of an Appalachian southern man, and grew up on a cattle farm. Just really loves cows cause he has so many fond memories of the cows under his family's care. Scary good shot. At least it's scary until people learn he grew up in rural Appalachia and then it's just "oh you've been shooting since you were six, haven't you?"

Cole 'Flash' Halley. Tall, lanky guy that stands at around 6'2". Youngest to be recruited into Shadow Company, often gets called "Baby" or similar things since he's so young. Instantly became so many of the Shadows' new younger brother. Gets his name from one of his first days as a Shadow where he beat a record for completing an obstacle course in the fastest time. He holds all the records for "fastest" on so many things on base, including "fastest time to get a hug from Moose". Cause while Moose is a nice guy and all, he doesn't just go around hugging people, especially the newer Shadows. All Flash had to do though was walk up to him in tears and Moose's big brother instincts kicked in. This was his second day on base. He's the stereotypical little brother, though, cause he's constantly doing things to piss other Shadows off/to just be annoying for the hell of it.

Matthew 'Truck' Simmons. Shorter (around 5'8"), but broad, bulky guy. He's been dubbed "getaway driver". He drives everything, from the great big tanks to just normal ass cars. Definitely a truck freak, and is always in the shop, working on any of the numerous terrain vehicles the Shadows have. Had to repeat a couple of school years, and the second he turned 18 he enlisted. He was sick of being told he wasn't "smart" just because he can't do well on academic tests. But put a truck in front of him and a toolkit and he can tell you every single thing about that truck in extreme detail.

Jacob 'Ness' Owens. Not tall at all compared to most other Shadows, only around 5'6". He's a superb swimmer, and is almost always in the water. Loves to dive and do other water related missions. If he could, he'd swim in the outdoor pool year long (it's closed during the off seasons), but luckily the indoor pool's temperature is more easily controlled, thus allowing him to intentionally make it colder. These pools are for training, but the indoor one tends to be more recreational. Ness is required to sign into something when he wants to swim, cause he always makes it colder, and Graves got sick of the complaining from Shadows trying to swim after he's done. Gets his callsign from the fact he's often in his full wetsuit while swimming, and one time, during the night, several Shadows saw him swimming outside and joked he looked like the Loch Ness Monster. He's very quiet and rarely talks, doesn't like to be around a lot of people, but does a good job and is still friendly enough. Prefers giving in to his cryptid namesake (and the fact he's Ohioan) and doing weird things to get out of conversations. (like staring wide-eyed at them and sinking under the table like it's the water level)

*Ness is my baby boy I love him so much*

Anyways, back to complaining over my willing obsession over Graves and Shadow Company

Ah, the brainrot has a firm root if you made ocs HAHAHAHAHAHAH-

Moose is actually an excellent swimmer and handles the cold pretty well so him and Ness would bond over that. Moose won’t stay in the water as much but he would definitely join him for a swim.

Flash would definitely be mothered by Moose. Having joined when he was pretty young himself he’s pretty protective of younger Shadows. He tries to not be overbearing but sometimes he can’t help it and worries over them.

Moose would love to hear Truck talk about his vehicles. He knows a few things himself about them, well enough to get them running or to make repairs if needed. He likes listening to people talk about things they’re passionate about.

Woody would definitely be good friends with Moose. The jokes would win him over and they have a shared love for cows. But the accent would definitely have a part in it, something Moose won’t admit. A southern accent is very comforting to him.

#shadow company oc #cod oc #shadow company moose #shadow company #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble #cod oc: flash #cod oc: ness #cod oc: truck #cod oc: woody

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heeheesang · 1 month

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ₕᵢgₕ ₛcₕₒₒₗ cᵣᵤₛₕ! ₗₑₑ ₕₑₑ ₛₑᵤₙg.

twelve -> risks and chances. ( written + texts )

“cold night, hm?” i said as i stood up in front of the black haired male after trying to find him. a wide smile appeared on his face as he stood up and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly as i returned the hug.

“i’ve missed you. alot.” heeseung cried as he buried his face into my neck, letting his sobs out as i let a few tears roll down my cheeks, “i missed you too, hee.” i smiled widely, letting him pick me off floor and spin me around.

pulling away from the hug, i placed my hands on his cheeks and wiped his tears away, “don’t cry handsome prince, you make me cry.” he smiled and wiped my tears, “it’s been a month since i saw my pretty princess, let me be.” we laughed and sat down on the bench, “how did you know i was missing?” heeseung asks as he took my hand and plays with it, “jungwon texted me. said a certain someone was going for a walk and disappeared into thin air, what happened hee?”

“alot. i’m just super stressed. coach won’t let me play this seasons’ matches unless i get my grades up, my next test is in two days, i barely studied half the chapter. gyuri’s on my back the whole time, riding off my money and threatening me to never talk to you, to my friends. she’s a sick psychopath. i’ve been working part time to get my money back ever since my parents left korea for work and i’m aloen with my grandma.” heeseung started and tears started to cloud his eyes again. i moved closer to him and hugged him, letting him cry on my shoulder.

“let it all out heeseung, i know how hard this can be on you… here’s what, i’ll help you.” i said and he immediately stopped crying, “you.. you can’t. she’ll hurt you princess…”

“lee heeseung. i’m done seeing you suffer alone, as someone close to you i’m not letting you go though all these alone. i don’t care about gyuri anymore, so what if she’ll hurt me? i don’t care, i’m done ignoring you, even i cry at home because i can’t talk to you. this is your last year here, you’ll pass your tests and win all your games and graduate with sunghoon. i’m willing to take the risks and chances if there are any.” i sternly said as heeseung smiled, “you cry at home alone? because you ignore me?”

my eyes widened, did i really say that… “anyways..! first let’s settle your studies! what subject is it?” he sighed and looked down on his lap, “english… yn i know you might not understand year two english—“

“are you looking down on me, lee heeseung?” i asked as i leaned closer to him, “and what if i am?” he leaned even closer, our noses almost touching each other. “i’ll have to kiss you then,” i joked and we both smiled, heeseung placing his hand on my chin as he closed the gap between us. our lips met in a matter of seconds and we both smiled into the kiss, melting even in the cold, windy weather.

i quickly pulled away and covered my face with my hair, “aw my pretty princess is all shy now,” heeseung joked and i slapped his arm. soon enough we got started on a plan, we were going to study at my house the whole day tomorrow, so we had to write a letter for our absence. i taught him everything he needed to know and even tested him like how jay tested me, with papers.

“you have exactly ten minut—“ “done!” no surprise it was all correct, he is ace lee heeseung anyways. now going onto our next problem, we came up with a solution to meet every evening at our place. we will pretend to not know one another in school but he found a way to send me home from school when i’m unwell, which was on his motorbike, while sunghoon distracted gyuri.

our last issue was his part time job, he worked as a barista at his aunt’s cafe. since the people i’m usually with have a huge fanbase or are popular, i asked them to come and take pictures of the cafe and upload it to social media to help them gain more customers, i was a regular of course.

so far, i was playing with my risks. i mean what were the chances gyuri would catch us anyway?

masterlist | back | next

taglist! @haechansbbg @saranghaohoshi @rosas-in-the-garden @yourssincerely-mimi @dimplewonie @jwnghyuns

hhs’ notes! soooo heeyn’s back! don’t get confused, they’re back to talking to actually in a relationship yet… also heeseung isn’t cheating on gyuri since he’s technically being forced into a relationship with her right..? the next few chapters will be more of heeyn and a special special appearance! as always, thank you for reading and supporting my smau🥹 i love each and everyone of you🤍 here’s a rose!! 🌷

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