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amber-hollyhock · 11 months
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LIVE LAUGH LOVE JFGOGH 🏳️‍🌈👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨🗣🔛🔝🔥🌻🚀🎨🏈🌌
so yeah i was legally required to do the barbie and ken meme with van gogh and jfk lmao
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amber-hollyhock · 11 months
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He really does just live in my brain rent free
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amber-hollyhock · 1 year
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YOYOYOYO HOLY SHIT IS THIS FANART FOR MY FIC YOU AND I SHOULDN’T FEEL LIKE A CRIME?!?!
Seriously, I come to JFGogh Tumblr after all this time to see this absolute beauty?!? After TWO YEARS?!?! Im honestly so embarrassed I didn’t see this sooner please forgive me op this literally made my night <3
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i just just luv thwm so muchsdsfghkfdghhj
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amber-hollyhock · 1 year
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Happy October! 🌰🍁🍂🥮
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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After Episode Four
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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“Ok so in dhmis they’re CLEARLY-” nothing has ever been clear in this entire series
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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Just A Nibble (Soft!Dom!Jessica Lockeheart x Sub!Jack Bright) (NSFW)
A/N: So I yoinked @riverdoesartandstuff 's OC Jess again for todays Kinktober fic! I also yoinked your hc about Bright bc it only fit =D
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Premature E-Jack-lucation (Haha **puns**!!), biting, slight blood mention, fluff
Jack's back arched into Jess' chest, his breath hot and heavy as she sank her teeth into his shoulder. He squeaked but didn't try to get away, the man's masochistic side showing through.
Jess didn't bite him hard enough for it to bleed, only leave an indentation and now she was licking the bite mark, soothing the burn, only to bite him again, lower down his back this time. 
She could see his erection, a smaller one than normal, Jack probably didn't expect to have too much fun today but who was complaining? It was sure as hell wasn't them.
He whined a little before reaching out behind him and tangling his hands in her hair, "H-harder!" He managed to choke out between small gasps and moans.
Looking up at her fianceè, Jess grinned. She obliged, now biting down hard enough to make him bleed while simultaneously snaking her hand down, into his pants and palming his hardening cock through his foundation-issued boxers. 
Although she couldn't see the effects it had on Jack, biting and palming in tandem, she could hear them. He was mewling and moaning with no regard for any of his co-workers, squirming in her lap. Jess grinned, her teeth still stuck in Jack's shoulder giving him a euphoric sensation.
Jack's breath hitched in his throat when Jess' hand finally made it inside his boxers. She didn't have much room to stroke his now rock-hard cock but she could worm her fingers down to graze his balls. 
When Jess bit down particularly hard, Jack froze, and then came in his pants. He went a shade of red that closely resembled Jess' hair in embarrassment. "I- I'm so sorry! This body has zero stamina!" He frowned, clearly annoyed with himself.
Jess frowned too, but for a different reason. She turned his head around and kissed him on the cheek before standing up, helping Jack get on his feet. "Don't worry, these things happen. It just means that tonight I'll be making your head spin after work, OK?" 
She winked at Jack before opening the door, her wolf tail swishing behind her and blowing Jack one last kiss before closing the door again. 
And, hours later when Jess was making good on her promise to make him delirious with pleasure, he still couldn't figure out what he had done to deserve such a wonderful lover.
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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dhmis spoiler fanart under cut
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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| Three of them!!!❤️💛💚
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it's started out as just the first image but it turned into a while situation💗🥹
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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I Want Everything I Asked For (Dr. Bright x Reader)
Summary: You and Dr. Bright have been meeting in secret for several months, when Bright suggests that the two of you try to escape the Foundation. Naturally, a heated argument ensues, bringing to light many painful truths and suppressed emotions as you attempt to make a very difficult decision. 
Dr. Bright had hated his personal quarters. They were dark, cold, and windowless, with only a handful of poorly placed fluorescent lights for illumination. It reminded Bright of a prison, and in many ways, it was. A perfect picture of his perpetual confinement to the Foundation. Yes, Dr. Bright hated his personal quarters. 
That was until you were in them.
For you secret lovers, Dr. Bright’s quarters were the perfect rendezvous point. The frigid air gave you an excuse to cuddle, the sparse furniture made it easier to dance, and the deep shadows provided a perfect place to conceal your passion, as well as each other's deepest and most intimate secrets.
Yes, many secrets were exchanged in Dr. Bright’s personal quarters, and the things that you whispered to Bright in the darkness of his room were things he’d soon never forget. Often, they were memories: beautiful descriptions of your life before the foundation, sundrenched forests, the smell of the mountain air in the summer, a modest house on a big hill, the coolness of the river beside your home, a brother you’d loved, who’d fled your home in the dead of night, shattering your family in the process. In turn, he’d share his own: the sprawling ranches of the midwest, his older brother teaching him how to shoot, his mother’s smile… memories he’d never shared with anyone else, but that was the magic of you wasn’t it… crawling up inside him and nestling close to his heart, thawing its frozen exterior and reminding him that, despite everything, he is still human. 
Tonight was one such night. You and Dr. Bright were lying on his bed as usual, when you mumbled into his shoulder. 
“I fucking love bees.”
Bright, equal parts sleepy and drunk on love, laughs at your silly admission.
“No... seriously,” you insist, “bees are the fucking bomb… the fuckin’ bomb…”
Bright laughs again and plants a clumsy kiss on your cheek. “Why do you think that?”
“They’ve got the dream life,” you say, gesturing off into the distance, “they can fly anywhere with their little wings… enjoying the pretty flowers… spending all day in nature… who wouldn’t want that?”
Bright wraps his arms around your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder. He sighs deeply, pulling you closer for fear that your lofty dreams might cause you to sprout bee’s wings and fly away.
“Would I be a bee with you?” he asks you, voice muffled as he speaks into your neck.
“Mhm,” you answer, “you’d be a very handsome bee. The most handsome bee, and you’d be all mine…”
“And what would we do?”
You are silent for a moment. “We’d explore the world… sleep in a different place every night… we’d make love all the time… do bees make love?”
“We’re scientists, we could figure it out.”
You laugh. “And then, we’d talk… we’d talk a lot… about anything… like we’re doing right now… except…”
You trail off, unwilling to continue that thought, to voice the dangerous feelings you both share. 
But Bright is nothing if not blunt.
“Except we wouldn’t be here,” he says, “at the Foundation.”
You tense slightly. “Yeah,” you answer after a moment’s deliberation, in a voice barely audible.
This is not the first time you have said something like this. These admissions come in the latest hours of your nighttime chats, where they can easily be stuffed into the darkness and forgotten about when morning comes. But Bright doesn’t forget. He is cursed to remember your sleepy whispers full of wistfulness as you relay half-thought-out fantasies of escaping the foundation, eloping with him, and returning to the Tennessee mountains. 
Dr. Bright pulls you closer if that is even possible. “You know I love you, and I want to be with you forever.”
“Jack, don’t talk like that.”
“Why not, it’s true.” 
“I know where this is going,” you say, “and I don’t want to talk about this again.”
“I think it’s worth revisiting,” Dr. Bright argues.
This isn’t the first time you two have had this conversation… about running away. It always ends badly, with you crying and hyperventilating. Bright doesn’t like seeing that happen, but you need to talk about this. You need to understand that your current situation is unsustainable, and inevitably, action will be taken against this affair. 
You are not daft. You know that love, especially of the romantic variety, is not welcome at the foundation. It is not forbidden, both your and Bright’s parents were married while working here (and in Bright's case, both of his parents were foundation personnel). It is certainly discouraged, however, if not for the high risk of casualties and fates worse than death. Plus, Bright is sure of it, if the foundation knew exactly what was going on between you two, how deep it had gotten, the intensity of this affair… you would surely be separated. Communication between you two would be cut, and you would carry on with your life and eventually die, and, of course, Bright would survive, living onward for eternity, forever regretting the bit of sunshine that slipped from his fingers because he was too afraid to grab it. 
You break the heavy silence with a tentative whisper. “We might not get caught by the foundation, you know. If we’re careful, we could keep this going.”
“And do what, Y/N?” Bright retorts with exasperation, sitting up to face you, “keep sneaking around, meeting in secret, lying perpetually to everyone around us for the next several decades?”
“Please, we can make it work!”
“I’m not sure if we can, Y/N.”
You huff, frustrated at Bright’s insistence. “Jack, we’re both prominent members of the foundation,” you say, “we can’t just get up and walk away, we have… we have responsibilities and people counting on us and reputations!”
“Oh, who gives a damn about reputations!” Bright exclaims, “besides, they can always replace us.”
You look down at Bright in shock. “Do you even hear yourself? What happened to the doctor who was endlessly devoted to the foundation?! Who would never have given it all up for a dream that might not come true!”
“And what happened to the girl by the river, who wanted nothing more than to live among the forests and the mountains with those she loved!”
“You don’t speak of her,” you snap, “you never knew her!”
“No, but I hear her, Y/N. I hear her in your wistful speeches, about the brother you never knew, and your talks about bees and being able to fly anywhere with me! It gets really hard to believe that you don’t want to run away too!”
“It doesn’t matter what I want! I’m not a child! I have responsibilities and people to make proud! I can’t just run away to get married! I can’t just go back to Tennessee! I can’t just do what I want!”
You finish your speech with a choked-out gasp, teetering as your raw, bitter words escape your lips. And suddenly, there is silence. Silence as the confession, as your raw desires themselves, hangs in the air between you and Dr. Bright, fully, finally, on display for you two to see.
And it is at that moment that you fully conceptualize what the foundation has taken from you, what you sacrificed in the name of a good reputation, in the name of the family, in the name of approval. You see a whole other life laid out before you, a life where you stayed at home, where your brother didn’t leave, now gone, now fading into obscurity, all in the name of the Foundation. 
You don't remember standing up, but your knees give out, and harsh, violent sobs wrack your body. 
“What am I doing,” you cry, “this is not where I want to be! This is not who I want to be…”
“Oh, Y/N…”
Dr. Bright falls to the floor and wraps his arms around the sobbing girl.
“You said you wanted to know what happened to that old doctor? The one who would never risk his position with the Foundation? Well, he met someone who he loved more than life itself,” Bright replies, “he met the kindest, smartest, most wonderful researcher, with whom he shared his soul. And he loves her so much that he believes she is worth the risk.” 
You only cry harder at his words, burying her face deeper into his shoulder. 
“Y/N, can I ask you a question?” Bright asks.
You nod into him.
“What do you want to do?” he asks softly, “don’t think about the risks, the people you’d be disappointing, or what you think is the easy way out. Just tell me what you want.”
You cry harder, clinging to Bright as your life depends on it. 
“Damnit,” you sob, “I want you! I want to be with you, I want to run away with you. I want to go back to Tennessee. I want to see my brother again.”
“Okay,” Bright says, “then we’ll find a way to be together. We’ll work this out. I promise.”
“Jack, I’m scared.”
“I know, I am too.”
“What if this doesn’t work?”
“Then we can try again,” Bright says, “we’ll always figure something out. Love has a way of doing that.”
You continue to cry, a smile breaking on your face as you do so. Eventually, you settle down, and you and Bright lay back down on the bed, holding one another closely.
“I want to be a bee,” you say softly as you drift off. Bright smiles.
“I know, and you will be.”
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Out of character? Yes.
Self indulgent? Yes.
Do I care? No. 
So, I think it's a good time to explain that this one-shot, along with several other of my Dr. Bright x Reader one-shots, was originally part of a larger story. The story was called Red Powder, and it was going to be this really long, slow-burn Bright/Reader fic that explored themes of forbidden love, being kind despite an overwhelming cruel environment, and valuing your needs over the expectations/desires of family members. 
I first conceived the idea in January, when I was really going through some shit, and I used these characters and the themes of the narrative as a tool to vent and also to comfort myself. I ended up not writing it because I had a bigger project that I needed to finish, and although I have considered returning to Red Powder, I ultimately decided not to. The story has served its purpose, and I don’t think it would be beneficial to my mental health to return to a project that was conceived in such a raw, tumultuous time in my life. 
That being said, this is probably my last of the Dr. Bright/SCP one-shots for now, but I still love this character and I do plan on returning to write for him sometime in the future. 
Thank you to all who have left likes/reposts/comments on this and any other interactions on any of my other platforms. I appreciate your love for this silly little collection of one-shots, and I’m glad you all could enjoy them as much as I do!
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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(SCP 049 x Reader) At the Touch of Your Hands
Summary: Because of SCP 049's lethal touch, you and him are unable to engage in any sort of physical affection. However, you obtain an SCP that might actually provide a solution to this issue. Now, the question is whether or not you are brave enough to test it.
You were facing a thick forest, the tall, jagged silhouettes of its trees looming over you, and its darkness threatening to swallow you whole. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. You could smell the sweet tang of the pines, the humidity of the summer air, and you could just barely make out the scent of a distant fire. 
You reached into the pocket of your shorts and grabbed the small object concealed within it, running your fingers over its smooth, cold surface. Your heart drummed in your chest, but out of fear or anticipation for what was to come you were not sure. Either way, it did not matter. It was too late to turn back now.
Without further delay, you stepped into the forest before you. You had traversed this route many times, so you could move in the darkness fairly well. As you weaved among the rocks and the trees, the light of a campfire came into view. You squinted, and you could just barely make out someone beside it, their dark figure illuminated by the orange glow. Your pace quickened as you stumbled toward them, like a moth to a flame. 
Finally, you arrived by the campfire, but stopped a few yards away, just out of reach of its glow. A mixture of feelings washed over you as you hesitated to step out into the light of the fire, to step out of your comfort zone and make yourself vulnerable to damage. To death. What if this didn’t work? What if the article was wrong? Was it worth the risk? 
These questions weighed on you, causing you to shrink further from the warm glow of the fire until you cast a glance at the figure ahead: a tall, humanoid dressed in thick dark robes and a ceramic mask with a long, bird-like beak. Your fears melted away, and you felt a sense of safety staring at him. You reached into your pocket and rubbed the item it concealed gently. Yes. It was worth it.
You stepped into the light. SCP 049 sat up. 
“Did you find it?” he asked, his calm voice tainted with urgency. 
You walked over to sit on the log beside him. You reached into your pocket and produced the jade ring. 049’s breath caught at the sight of it. Your hope. Your key to love. You just hoped it would work. 
You looked up and locked eyes with 049. Although many of his features weren’t accessible to you, his eyes shined with great anxiety uncharacteristic of him. 
“Are you certain this will work?” 049 asked.
You gave him a tender, reassuring smile. “It will. I promise.”
You slipped the ring onto your finger. Immediately, a feeling you couldn’t describe washed over you. You must’ve had a funny look on your face because 049 immediately asked if you were okay. You said you were fine. The two of you locked eyes, and you gave a small nod. 
It’s time. 
049 lifted a gloved hand. Perhaps it was only the fire, but you could’ve sworn that his hand was shaking. You reached out your hand as well, breathing quickening as you slowly extended it towards his. 
You looked up at 049. If you died, you wanted him to be the last thing you saw. You drew in a shaky breath and moved your hand to touch 049’s. 
Your pulse spiked. You half expected the world to cut off, leaving you in darkness, but no. 049 was still in front of you. You were still here, and you were touching 049. 
The importance of this moment sunk in, and the two cried out in ecstasy. Your fingers intertwined. 049 pulled you towards him and wrapped his other arm around you. You grabbed his arm, pressing your face into his neck and crying tears of joy. You’d spent weeks fantasizing about this moment, believing it could never come true, but it had, and it was even better than you could’ve imagined. 
You and 049 sat together, whispering soft “I love you”s back and forth. You clung to one another, relishing in the feeling of each other’s bodies.
Time stopped and everything else melted away. All that mattered was here and now, and it was the first time since the murder, since your conviction, since being brought to site 19, since the containment breach, that you had no regrets. Everything that had led up to meeting 049 and being able to hold him had been worth it. And there, on that fateful night, with the fire crackling and the crickets chirping in the background, you fell asleep in 049’s arms. 
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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Rule 189 (Injured!Dr. Bright x Reader)
Summary: Dr. Bright’s most recent hijink has left him with quite a few abrasions. Luckily, you’re there to patch him up.
Category: romantic, light hearted, fluff
“You really can’t control yourself can you?”
You stand in your office at Site 19, hands on your hips as you glare down at Dr. Bright, who is sitting on your desk. His most recent hijink has resulted in quite a nasty laceration on his leg as well as several bruises and just general dishevelment. But despite his sorry state, the doctor meets your glare with a smug look. 
“Honey…” he drawls, voice syrupy sweet, “we’ve been dating for two months! Honestly, I would have thought you would’ve known me better by now!“
You roll your eyes and huff. “Well, I know when you’re trying to butter me up! Isn’t this a violation of rule number 189…”
“Is it? I have a hard time keeping track these days…”
You slap your forehead. “You’re such an idiot,” you mumble. 
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he says smugly, planting a kiss on your upper arm. You can’t help but smile at the gesture. Try as you may, you can’t stay mad at Jack for long. 
“Yes, and one who is currently bleeding obscenely,” you say, “c’mon, let’s get you patched up.”
“Oh, don’t bother,” Bright says, “I’m getting a new body next week.”
“Yes, but you’re bleeding now,” You object as you hunt around the office for a first aid kit, “you can’t just walk around with an actively bleeding wound!”
Bright shrugs. “Why not? It’ll stop in a minute.” 
“Jack!” you cry incredulously with such a shrill, high voice that it makes Dr. Bright fall off your desk. 
He scrambles back up to face you as you stare down at him with shock. You snap your fingers and point to his chest.
“You. Desk. Now.”
Dr. Bright, stunned and slightly turned on, returns to his position on your desk as you acquire the necessary supplies. As he waits, he leans back on the wooden surface, pushing some papers onto the floor carelessly.
“You know, being sprawled on your desk like this is really putting me in the mood for some- Woah what the fuck is that?!”
Bright gestures to a small brown bottle that you are holding. You give him a blank look. “It’s Neosporin.”
Bright blinks at you.
“You know. The disinfecting agent.”
Bright still looks at you blankly. 
You slap your forehead. “Are you telling me you have seriously never used this?”
Bright smiles and laughs nervously, “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.”
“What are you talking about!?” you exclaim, “this is a pivotal childhood experience right here!”
“Well, not to be redundant, but I didn’t have the most quintessential childhood, remember?”
“Right, right,” you say, and you unscrew the cap and pour liquid onto a rag, “well, I’m honored to be the one to educate you on this topic.”
“So, you’re taking my Neosporin virginity?” Dr. Bright asks with a smug smile. 
You laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” You sit down and carefully begin to wipe down the afflicted area.
There isn’t much laughing after that.
“OW! HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SON OF COCK SUCKING WHORE WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!”
“That’s the sting,” you say, “I forgot to mention that.”
“HOLY SHIT! YOU WITCH!” he exclaims, “STOP LAUGHING AT ME!!”
“Hold still,” you say, now unable to keep from wheezing uncontrollably, “you’re gonna make it take longer!”
“Oh my god!” Bright exclaims, whipping around to face you, “you owe me big time!”
“What, for nursing your injured wounds,” you say with mock innocence, “I was doing you a favor!”
“FAVOR!?”
“Alright, just hold still for a bit longer,” you say, “I have to bandage it.”
You grab some gauze from your first aid kit, beginning the slow process of gingerly wrapping it around Dr. Bright’s leg. He, of course, does not spare you the melodrama. 
“Oh, the pain!” he moans, “I don’t believe I should ever recover from the absolute torture this wretched woman inflicted upon me!”
“Oh, you poor thing,” you say sarcastically, “would you like a kiss to make it better?”
Dr. Bright smiles. “Always.”
You laugh, leaning down to Dr. Bright’s leg. You plant a soft kiss on the newly applied gauze. He takes your chin in his hand, guiding you back up so that he can kiss you properly on the lips. You stand there for a moment, lost in the brief moment of tenderness. When you pull away, Dr. Bright smiles softly at you. 
“Thanks,” he says, “seriously… it’s, um, nice to have someone looking out for me like that.”
You smile, kissing him once more, “you’re always welcome.”
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But seriously, how tf does a doctor not know about Neosporin?? (Lazy writing is how but shhhh we won’t talk about that)
Honestly, this is was probably my favorite Bright/Reader one-shot to write, which is odd because, like any good writer, I thrive off of putting my characters through as much emotional pain as possible, but this one-shot contains the least amount of angst or suffering... hm, I guess we writers are capable of some lightheartedness every now and again :)
-Amber
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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anyway im tired of people treating Disney (corporate) and Disney (writing and directing staff) as a monolith. yes Disney (corporate) funds massive anti gay legislature. yes Disney (corporate) only recognizes demographics in terms of how much profit they can bring. but trans guy in Baymax isn't an evil trap put there by the shareholders to draw in queers and wring us of money. the trans guy in Baymax exists because in the writing room a bunch of storyboarders and storytellers were spitballing "hey, what people do we need here?" and one of the answers that came up was "trans guy" from a person who sincerely believed that representation was not only valuable but necessary. there are real people making every choice you see and hear. you can hate how corporate feigns blasé without assuming it's all some premeditated plan. you can be rightfully suspicious of corporate motivation without erasing the artists with their own motivations
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amber-hollyhock · 2 years
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(Dr. Bright x Reader) Security Item
Summary: You and Dr. Bright are looking through his office, when you uncover one of Jack’s childhood stuffed animals (much to his chagrin)
CONTENT WARNING: mentions of execution, traumatic memories
“Did you find it?”
“Nope…” you sigh, closing up the drawer of the filing cabinet you are crouched in front of. Currently, Site 19 is in the midst of a large reconstruction project, and the blueprints for an older SCP’s containment chamber are required. Unfortunately, they are nowhere to be found. You and Dr. Bright had searched Dr. Bright’s office high and low, had scoured the Foundation’s digital library, and had even infiltrated your coworker’s offices, but your efforts were in vain. After nearly two hours of searching, Dr. Bright suggested that the two of you search the files in his personal quarters, which led to your current predicament: sifting endlessly through the messy filing cabinets in Bright’s living room. It was grueling and tedious, and at times a bit gruesome, as many of Dr. Bright’s drawers and cabinets were… less than tidy.
“Goddamnit!” you scream as you open another drawer, “Jack! Why is there a moldy sandwich in this filing cabinet?!”
“Oh! I was wondering where that went!” Dr. Bright exclaims, walking over to take the sandwich from you, “mmm, it doesn’t that moldy, perhaps it’s safe enough to-”
You snatch the sandwich back out of Bright’s hands, quickly throwing it into the waste bin.
“Jesus, Jack! When was the last time you even cleaned this place!”
“Hmm,” Bright scratches his chin as he ponders your question, “what year was Clinton elected again?”
You bang your head on a metal filing cabinet in frustration. 
“Alright, alright. I admit I’m a bit sloppy…” Dr. Bright says, “but I swear, just hold on until we find these plans, and then I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
You smile smugly and peck him on the cheek. 
“You certainly will. Now enough fooling around! Let’s find these papers!” 
With that, the two of you return to your respective corners of the room, continuing the search. You turn to yet another drawer, eying it suspiciously before you tentatively grip the handle. You inch it open slowly, afraid to discover what lay within. However, you are surprised to see, laying on a stack of manila folders and documents, a stuffed elephant. The plush’s matted and discolored fur clearly shows its age, and it’s a bit flat from its time in the drawer, but nonetheless, you can’t help but be endeared by the unexpected discovery.
“Well hello there!” you say in a high, sing-song voice. You gingerly take the stuffed toy in your hands, raising it to the light to inspect it.
“Hey!” 
No sooner do you pick up the elephant than it is snatched out of your hands. You look up to see Dr. Bright, gripping the plush tightly. There is silence as you stare up at him with confusion and he down at you with mortification. 
Then, the pieces fall into place, and you break out into a grin. 
“Jack!” you exclaim, “I didn’t know you had a stuffed animal!”
“Oh, what? This old thing?” Bright says, nervously smiling as he relinquishes the stuffed elephant, “must have gotten mixed up with my things from the house by mistake… I don’t even remember it.”
“Oh,” you say, feigning belief in his weak lie, “then I suppose it’s just junk, right? And you wouldn’t mind if I just-”
You take the elephant from his hands and take a step toward the waste bin. 
“No!” The plush is wrenched from your grip once more, and Dr. Bright clutches the elephant to his chest protectively.
“Ha! So you do care!” you exclaim triumphantly, “it’s funny, I never would have pegged you for the type, Dr. Jack heart-of-stone Bright!” 
“Ugh, fine, fine,” Bright concedes, face as red as the amulet hanging from his neck, “you’ve caught me! I still own a stuffed toy from my childhood, now can we get back to work?”
“Oh no, no, no!” you protest, “we’re not just letting this juicy information go!”
“I have access to Amnestics use, so technically yes, we can just let this go.”
“Oh, come on!” you drawl, leaning against Bright’s back and wrapping your arms around his neck, “consider this my restitution for your traumatizing personal space.”
Bright sighs and sits down on the floor. “Alright, fine. What do you want to know?”  
“What’s his name?” you ask eagerly.
“His name? Hell, I don’t remember Y/N!”
“Bullshit! No one just forgets the name of their favorite stuffed animal! C’mon! Spill it!”
“Okay, fine…” Dr. Bright sighs, cheeks growing red, “...Pebbles.”
“Pebbles?” you repeat, giggling uncontrollably, “that’s a weird name for an elephant!”
“Hey, you watch your mouth!” Dr. Bright exclaims, “Pebbles is a damn fine name!”
“Maybe you could have gone for something more classic, like Cyrano or Horton?”
“Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t as skilled in the art of literary allusion as you were, darling.”
“Alright, alright, next question, who gave him to you?”
Dr. Bright falls quiet as he considers his answer. “My mom,” he says, “it was the first time she was leaving me for a shift at the foundation. I was terrified of the dark back then, you know. Typical ‘there’s monsters in my closet’ type shit. She knew this, so the night before she left, she gave me Pebbles, telling me that he’d protect me from the monsters.”
Dr. Bright smiles at the memory, relishing in the pleasant warmth of that simpler time.
“That’s very sweet, Jack,” you say, “I suppose he meant a lot to you.”
“Yeah, he did. Whenever I was sad, or scared, or lonely, I would just hold Pebbles tight and trust that he’d protect me,” Dr. Bright’s smile fades, “I wish things were still that simple.”
Involuntarily, Dr. Bright squeezes the stuffed toy closer to his chest. You move your hand to Dr. Bright’s back and lean against him.
“Do you still sleep with him now,” you ask softly. 
Dr. Bright tenses up. “Sometimes… on those really bad nights…” he answers, “the last time was just after… my field mission in Egypt.”
“Oh my god,” you mutter in shock. You had read the report. You knew what he was talking about. 
“I was doing some work in Egypt with half a dozen other researchers when we were apprehended. They kidnapped us, took us to some location, and then they killed me, but they didn’t just kill me… they put the amulet on every other researcher on that mission, and killed me over and over again in their bodies… and… and Researcher Lopez… God, Y/N, she was so young. Probably younger than you, and then she was gone… and I was left in her body… And when they finally let me go… when I finally came back here, I just ran to my storage cabinet and pulled Pebbles out… because he was the only thing I could think of to help-”
Bright is cut off as tears well in his eyes. 
“Oh my god, Jack,” you say, wrapping your arms around him as he rests his head on your shoulder, “I’m so sorry about this… I shouldn’t have-”
“No, Y/N, it’s alright,” he says, “you know, it’s kinda nice to have an excuse to cuddle with your favorite childhood toy.”
You smile. “Well, sometimes that’s just what you need.”
***
That night, you are held up in your office doing paperwork, and only return to Dr. Bright’s personal quarters late at night. You quietly slip in, shaking your head as you carefully step around the mess you two made earlier that afternoon. However, your demeanor shifts when you walk into Bright’s bedroom. There, Jack lays on his bed, sprawled out on his side, Pebbles clutched tightly to his chest.
It’s all you can do not to cry. 
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Yeah Dr. Bright was a stuffed animal kid, this is canon and you cannot changed my mind. 
Also, the traumatic memory in Egypt was based off of the tale, “The Executions of Dr. Bright”, which is technically a part of a canon were the SCP Foundation is public knowledge, but this is an x reader fanfic, so I’m not super concerned with continuity :P
Also, contrary to the reader, I think Pebbles is a wonderful name for an elephant! Shame on you reader for criticizing Pebble’s name!
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