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#and when i tried to hide one of the nurses would absolutely find me
hazbinwhoree · 7 months
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Okay so I’m violently obsessed w this man and your writings so… can I request something way too self indulgent and specific ? If this is too much feel free to ignore this ask but an Adam x fallen angel!reader who before she fell was his third wife in heaven for like a few hundred years unaware of the exterminations and when she finds out she and Adam argue and it results in her wings being ripped off and her cast to hell… and once in hell she keeps a low profile and her identity a secret. But sees about the hazbin hotel on TV and goes to offer her help to Charlie because even tho she knows she can’t go back to heaven, it’d be nice to help some sinners if possible. Not expecting things to ramp up so much and involve Adam. But like… if the angelic dagger nifty stabbed him with didn’t kill him, say charlie and reader take him into the newly built hotel and reader tries to nurse him back to health and there’s angst bc it’s been 20 years since he basically cast his own wife, his angel to rot in hell??
Sorry if you hate this idea n don’t wanna do it I totally don’t blame you I’m just on Adam brain rot and have a handful of self inserts/ocs to ship a him in different AUs but this is my favorite despite how cheesy it probably is
Twenty Years in Eternity
“What do you mean exterminate them?” (Name) asks, appalled. “Exactly what it fuckin’ sounds like, babe,” Adam laughed. “It’s population control!” “Population control!? It’s murder!” “I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about this,” Adam scoffed.
“Because not every sinner in Hell deserves to be there!”
Silence. (Name) had just proclaimed blasphemy. Adam’s eyes moved to something behind her and his face dropped. “(Name).” (Name) turned around to find Sera, looking down at her in disapproval. “Such blasphemy is not tolerated in Heaven,” Sera said coldly.
Adam couldn’t do anything as Sera knocked (Name) to the ground, and abruptly tore off her wings. (Name) screamed. Sera opened a portal overlooking Hell, and grabbed (Name). “Adam help!” (Name) cried, struggling. Adam could only stand and watch. Neither of them were any match for Sera, who threw (Name) into the portal and shut it behind her.
And that was the last Adam saw of his wife for twenty years.
In Hell, (Name) found her way as a Fallen, until she heard about the Princess of Hell’s endeavor to rehab sinners to go to Heaven. Intrigued, (Name) made her way to the Hotel one day. She knew Heaven would never accept this plan, but she didn’t want to kill Charlie’s spirits.
(Name) quickly became a permanent fixture of the hotel, befriending the inhabitants. She got particularly close to Angel Dust.
Every year, during the extermination, she would hide, not out of fear for her life, the exorcists didn’t kill the Fallen, but so that she didn’t have to deal with the pain of seeing the angels and run the risk of seeing Adam.
Unbeknownst to her, Adam searched for her during every extermination.
(Name) was shocked when Charlie giddily announced that she had secured a meeting with Heaven. She hadn’t been expecting Heaven to let her get this far.
But further she did not get, coming back from the meeting absolutely fuming.
“What happened?” (Name) asked. “The guy was such a… such a… prick!” “Shot down the hotel idea?” “Adam didn’t even let me finish my presentation. He said Hell is forever whether we like it or not. And he cut the extermination time in half, they’re coming back in six months!”
(Name)’s blood ran cold. “Adam?”
“Yeah, like the first man, Adam. He was such an asshole.”
“Yeah that sounds like him,” (Name) muttered.
Charlie looked at her funny. “Did you know him when you were an angel?”
“Know him? I was married to him.”
Charlie’s jaw dropped. “You’re his third wife!?” (Name) nodded. “Unfortunately.”
“He talked about you,” Charlie said. “It was the only time he actually sounded genuine.” “What did he say?” (Name) couldn’t help her curiosity.
“He said that Hell is forever, and if someone like his wife could end up there with no chance out, sinners were certainly not leaving.”
(Name) hummed. “He sounded kind of sad,” Charlie said. “I think he misses you.” “Yeah, well, it’s been twenty years. He’ll get over it. He sure didn’t do anything to stop me from ending up here. We were fighting over the extermination.”
“That’s what got you sent here?” Charlie asked. (Name) nodded. “I’m sorry,” is all Charlie could say.
Weeks passed and she managed to get another meeting with Heaven, this time going past Adam and straight to the Seraphim. (Name) had no idea how she did it, but knew the results would be the same in the end.
When Charlie and Vaggie came tumbling through the portal, Charlie more upset than (Name) had ever seen her, she knew she had been right.
“He said he’s attacking the hotel first!” Charlie cried, throwing herself into Angel’s arms. “Who, Adam?” (Name) asked, feeling nauseous. “Yes!” “It’s okay, Charlie, we’ll stand our ground and defend the hotel. Remember, angels can die. We just need to get our hands on some angelic metal,” Vaggie soothed.
The next month was spent preparing for battle. (Name) was going to stay out of it, and Charlie understood. (Name) figured there wasn’t much she could contribute anyway. So when the extermination came, she locked herself in her room.
She could hear the battle raging outside, and it sounded like her side was losing. She almost went out to help, until she heard Adam’s sadistic laugh outside her window. She remembered why she wasn’t involving herself. She couldn’t face Adam.
(Name) was content staying put, until she no longer had a choice, the hotel splitting in half. She very nearly got crushed in the rubble, but somehow made it out unharmed. As she lay on the ground catching her breath, she heard a familiar, angry voice. “I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these nuts!”
(Name) looked up to see Adam’s back as he screamed at Lucifer and Charlie. She also saw Nifty, running up behind Adam with a knife. “NO!” (Name) cried out, but it was too late. Nifty plunged the blade through Adam’s back. Adam choked, body freezing for a moment before he fell on his stomach.
Nifty raised the blade to keep stabbing him, but (Name) ran over as fast as she could and pushed Nifty off of him.
“No, no no no.” (Name) gently turned Adam onto his back. He opened his eyes, and when he saw her, he smiled. “(Name),” he croaked. His eyes fluttered shut but the soft smile never left his face. “Adam, no, stay with me, please,” (Name) begged. She looked up at Charlie. “Please, help me!”
Adam was the last person Charlie wanted to save, but her belief in mercy and hatred of seeing (Name) so upset won over, and she knelt down beside Adam, putting pressure on his wound. “Dad, there has to be something you can do.”
Lucifer sighed. He walked over and held a hand over the stab wound, concentrating. It began to heal, just enough to stem the bleeding before Lucifer stopped. “There. He won’t bleed out, but he’s lost a lot of blood.”
Adam had fallen unconscious.
Lucifer refocused his efforts on repairing the hotel. When it was back together, Charlie helped (Name) drag Adam inside. They got to (Name)’s room and deposited Adam on her bed. Adam didn’t stir. Charlie left (Name) to have her privacy with him.
When Charlie left, (Name) unzipped and pulled off Adam’s robe, lifting up his shirt underneath to reveal the stab wound. With a wet washcloth she began to clean the wound and blood off his body. When she was done, she grabbed gauze (Charlie left her with a first-aid kit) and wrapped Adam’s torso.
Content, she finally situated him into the bed comfortably, pulling the covers up to his chest. As she knelt next to the bed, stroking Adam’s hair back gently, Adam’s eyes fluttered open. He looked panicked until (Name)’s face came into view.
“(Name).” “Adam.”
(Name) forgot all her previous anger towards Adam and hugged him in relief. “You’re okay,” she cried. Adam looked taken aback before smiling and wrapping his arms around her. “Thanks to you.” “Thanks to Lucifer, really–” “Never say his name in front of me again.”
(Name) blinked. “Right, of course. But he did kind of save your life.” “Only because of you,” Adam retorted. (Name) was silent. He had a point.
The silence consumed them as they stared at one another, waiting for the other to speak. “You abandoned me,” they said at the same time. “What?” “What the fuck do you mean–”
(Name) took a deep breath. “You abandoned me in Heaven, when Sera tore off my fucking wings and threw me down here. You abandoned me as a Fallen. How did I abandon you?”
“You abandoned me by questioning the extermination, and speaking blasphemy. You knew what happened to angels who speak blasphemy. And you still did it. There was nothing I could fucking do. Sera is like, a million times stronger than me. And for the record, I searched for you. Every extermination. I looked for you. You abandoned me, to be alone, again.”
(Name) was silent. She hadn’t realized that was how he felt about the situation.
“I love you, and I fuckin’ miss you. Alright?” Adam confessed. (Name)’s eyes began to well with tears. “I love you and miss you too.” She leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. Adam kissed back with fervor, reaching up to cup her face in one large hand. They fit together like missing puzzle pieces.
Two separated soulmates finally reunited.
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silent-stories · 2 years
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𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: You visit Eddie at the hospital after the demobats incident.
Warnings: just fluff
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You peeked into the dark hospital room with a smile on your face, trying to hide the horrible sensation you'd been feeling relentlessly for the previous few hours, waiting for a doctor or nurse to come out to tell you if Eddie was going to be okay. If he was still alive.
You were really scared that he could have died, that you would lose him and you never thought you could feel this way about someone you've known for so little time.
"Hey" You said walking into the room towards his bed. He was wearing one of those awful sort of dressing gowns that hospitals usually supplied, part of his face was covered in scratches and he had a tired expression drawn on his face. Even if you couldn't see it, you were sure that his torso and chest were covered in bloody bandages. "How are you feeling?"
Stupid question, maybe, but "I'm so glad you're alive I could cry right now" seemed too profound.
He looked smaller than usual, without his leather jacket and jeans with chains, more vulnerable without the clothes to helped him keep up the tough guy facade. Some people would say he looked less scary that way but Eddie never looked scary to you.
"Good enough for someone who almost died" he replied when his big brown eyes landed on you, an almost surprised expression painted on his face "You stayed."
"Of course I stayed" You said "we all stayed but then it got really late and the kids had to go home and they needed someone to drive them, so now Steve is also a chauffeur as well as a babysitter."
"Late? What time is it now?" He asked and you caught on to the fact that he had no idea how long it had been since he lost consciousness.
"It's almost four."
"In the morning?" he asked incredulously. You nodded.
"Jesus Christ Y/N, go home, please, I-"
"I haven't waited all these hours for you to send me home, Munson." You cut him off in a tone a little too harsh. You absolutely didn't want him to think he was a burden, you stayed because you wanted to be there for him. You had the impression that not many people were there for him, usually.
"Can I sit?" You asked then, softening a bit and pointing to the space next to him on the bed, he just nodded before silence fell between you.
You're sure at some point you let out a sigh of relief, after all that had happened you were grateful to know that Eddie was going to be okay and that everything was going to be fixed, somehow. Now that Hopper was back you were sure that if you and your friends explained the whole situation to him he would help you and be able to prove that Eddie was innocent.
"Can I ask you something?" he said after a few moments.
This time it was you who nodded.
"Why are you still here? I mean, you stayed even after everyone left, you're still covered in blood, you must be really tired and dying to sleep. So why did you stay?" He asked looking down, playing with the rings on his fingers.
You sighed. "We're friends. I care about you. I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up. After everything that's happened to you lately, you don't deserve to be alone. You didn’t even before."
He just looked at you like you were something weird or saying the craziest thing he's ever heard.
"We are friends." he muttered, repeating your words as if you had said nonsense.
"Of course we are." You tried to read his expression but you couldn't figure out where he was trying to say.
Didn't he want you to be friends or wasn't he used to people treating him like one? Had anyone even told him they were his friends? Did anyone ever tell him he wasn't a freak and didn't deserve even half of the bad things that had happened in his life? you find yourself thinking.
"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry. It's just that it's weird you know? A few days ago I never thought that a girl like you could even talk to someone like me and then everything happened and now you're here at tell me we're friends. It's weird, but it's- it's cool. Really. I'm glad you are here, Y/N." He finished the sentence with a chuckle.
You weren't exactly one of those considered "popular" at school, but certainly no one ever stopped you in the hallway to yell insults or you never found the words "freak" and "murderer" engraved on your locker.
Did Eddie really think you wouldn't be on his side just because he was considered one of the "outcasts"?
"No, you're right." You replied "I wouldn't talk to someone like you because there's no one else like you, Eddie. That's why I like you. The way people in Hawkins talk about you isn't fair. You are not mean or scary. You are not bad. Bad at school yes, but a bad person? No way. And you also almost died to save our asses."
He laughed and looked down. "It was metal though."
You couldn't help but smile and shake your head at his comment. "It was. But never try to do something like that ever again."
"Thanks Y/N." He added then.
"For what?"
"For everything. For being my friend. For staying."
You just nodded and reached out to grab his hand, his rings were a little cold against your skin, but you didn't really mind because as soon as you did that, a smile appeared on his lips.
Silence fell between you again -and probably also in all the rest of the hospital given the time- but it wasn't an awkward silence, it was calm, pleasant and somehow intimate.
The last thing you remember before sleep overtook you is Eddie's hand lazly playing with your fingers and yours drawing imaginary circles on the back of his.
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"You think... that they're like together-together?" Mike asked Dustin the next day. Both were in front of the hospital bed, watching you and Eddie sleep next to each other. Eddie's arm was around you to hold you close to him, like he was afraid that if he didn't you'd disappear.
"Nah, they're just friends." Dustin answered with a note of doubt in his voice. He was a little mad at you for not calling to tell him Eddie was fine, but maybe now he understood why you didn’t. You and Eddie were like him and Suzie, just more disgusting.
"Mh, I'm not sure. Friends don't act like that, man."
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tragicxensemble · 8 months
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» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── «
One More Chance (At Love) (Pt.1/?)
Slowburn Mark Sloan x Reader x George O'Malley
TW/CW: Mentions of medical terms and just overall Grey's anatomy gore, social anxiety/ anxiousness, Christina being passive-aggressive to the reader of you squint, Love triangle, jump cuts
Disclaimer/Summary:
‼️ SEASON 2 SPOILERS!! ‼️
AJ's a new intern at Seattle Grace Hospital and the niece of Miranda Bailey. She has an average reputation and never heard of 'McSteamy' a.k.a Mark Sloan upon moving to Seattle and working at Seattle Grace. Not understanding the hype around him nor falling for his charm, he ends up falling first and hard because he thinks she's "hard to get". He tries his best to flirt with her but to no avail, because she never picks up on any of those social cues to realize that he has been flirting with her the entire time because of her being neurodivergent (specifically AuDHD). Besides Mark, there's also someone else who has been eyeing AJ since they met.
Ps: This is mostly a self-insert but you can still read and enjoy this!! It's been a while since I've made a fic and I think it's time for a fresh start :). This takes place in mid-season 2 (specifically episode 9, a month before the Thanksgiving part of the episode starts then jumpcuts to the events of the Thanksgiving episode) to around the end of season 3. There are a lot of jump cuts in this fic and rhe reader is black
Wc: 3.4k
» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── «
@spexialvixtimxunit @verytalented
Seattle Grace Hospital. A hospital filled with opportunities and so much drama that it could be a full-course meal. That is, of course, if you're interested in having surgeries and nonstop sleepless nights on the menu. If so, then sign me up. Having the opportunity to work in the same hospital as my Aunt was a blessing and a curse. She knew that I was studying to become a surgeon, but what she didn't know was that I would be working in the same hospital as her. The other interns around me called her 'The Nazi' but I simply called her Auntie Mandy.
No one knew that she was my aunt so they had no room to treat me differently because of my association with her. I deserved to be in that surgical program just as much as they did. I worked my ass off to become a well-respected doctor, not a punching bag for bottomless insults. So, my strategy to survive the internship came in 3 easy rules. A guide that I follow every day.
1. Befriend the Nurses.
This step was relatively easy. I'm always kind to everyone I meet unless they give me a reason to be mean. Plus, I would hate to get stuck on doing rectal exams or sutures for hours on end just because I pissed a nurse off. They're human beings just like me and deserve equal respect because it took them years of med school to get to where they are.
2. Keep to myself and only speak when spoken to (a.k.a practically become invisible to almost everyone unless I'm given instructions to complete a task.)
Now, this step is a relatively difficult one to follow. I have no clue who I will encounter upon being on Auntie Mandy's service and they would make my experience at SG unpredictable. I won't let them get to know me upon surface-level things about me. It's too risky for them to find out even the smallest incriminating detail about me. I'll just have to wait for the right moment to tell anyone that Bailey is my Aunt.
And lastly, my most hated rule.
3. NEVER unmask, unless necessary.
Masking in itself is extremely difficult. If I show any sign of my neurodivergence to neurotypicals who don't understand what it's like to hide parts of yourself every day 24/7, I'm looking at weeks of being a laughing stock and judged by everyone. Even though this is a possibility, the road to being a surgeon is never easy for anyone.
So, with that being said you would say that I have 3 impossible rules to follow. I would have to try my absolute hardest to not expose myself but also to be on top of my game in this program if I want to make it in the real surgical world.
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My alarm rings at the ripe time of 5 am. I had to be at the hospital by 7:00 am before 7:30 am rounds started and before I could officially be assigned to my resident. I knew before today that I was going to be assigned to Auntie Mandy because of the letter in the mail a few weeks ago declaring my official internship and transfer to Seattle Grace. As well as what day I would start working. Transferring hospitals is like transferring schools, you have to start all over again in a new place. New environment. With completely new people. People who are already used to each other and probably friends with each other. Whereas I'm the new kid, the outcast. The kid that sits alone during lunch while everyone has already created their cliques.
I took a few deep breaths before getting out of bed to stop myself from becoming anxious at the thought of all the wrong outcomes that could happen. I made sure to pack comfort snacks the night before and an emergency meltdown/overstimulation bag that consisted of earplugs, a few small but effective fidget toys, compactable noise-canceling headphones, and an mp3 player that has my comfort songs on speed dial. I made my bed, as I usually do to start my morning. Following up on that, I meditated and did yoga for an hour and a half. It's a way to calm and ground myself before I tackle whatever the day brings me.
I did my morning routine and skin care before heading back to my room, to change into my outfit.
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By this time it was already 6:40 am. I had enough time to spare to moisturize my locs and bring a scrunchie with me so that I could put my hair up when needed at work. I made sure to grab my messenger bag and my snacks for the long shift and promptly left my apartment at 6:50 am. The drive to work was roughly 15 minutes but ended up being 20 minutes with traffic. I didn't live far away from the hospital, which was alright in my opinion. I arrived there at 7:05 am and began to park. After I parked and got out of the car, a motorcyclist drove up loud and parked 2 spots away from me.
Right in the middle of my car and the motorcycle came another car with 2 women and a guy who I'd assume knew the female motorcyclist because the group of 4 joined each other and I began walking into the building behind them. Mid-walk, another guy joins the group after what I'd assume was his morning jog. He was huffing and saying something I couldn't make out because of me keeping my distance from them so that they wouldn't assume that I was following them even though I was. I had no freaking clue on where anything in this ginormous hospital was. Sure I had a tour of the hospital but it's so easy to forget the layout when I've only been in it once.
While we waited for the elevator I quietly said, "Excuse me," as I tapped the shoulder of a brown-haired guy with cute doe eyes. He stopped talking with the blonde-haired woman and turned to face me. "I'm sorry, but could you help direct me to the surgical locker room? I'm not entirely sure where it is." As I was speaking the rest of the group turned to look at me, which was not intimidating in any way. (Yes it was.) "Yeah sure, We're actually on our way there." says the doe-eyed guy. "I'm George O'Malley by the way, that's Izzie Stevens, Alex Karev, Meredith Grey, and Christina Yang. We're all surgical interns." George introduced the names to the faces of everyone and I hoped for the best that I could remember their names.
"Oh, I'm AJ. AJ Brown. I'm also an intern here. It's my first day." I spoke. "What! That's cool, we could show you around sometime!" Izzie said as the elevator dinged. I nodded and followed their lead and got on the elevator with them, standing near the back of it. I listened as they talked about how their mornings went. The elevator stopped at the second floor. After making a few turns into the corridors, we finally made it to the locker room.
"What's your locker number?" Meredith asked as she began to walk to her locker. "Uh, it's G - 23," I responded as I looked around at my surroundings. Everyone was already getting changed. "Oh, nice you have a locker next to me!" Izzie smiled. The digital clock on the wall read 7:15 am, there was enough time to change into my scrubs and have my pager and stethoscope ready. As I was putting my shoes on Meredith spoke to me, "So, AJ, where are you from?" She asked as she closed her locker door. "Oh, I'm from a small town in Illinois," I answered. "What's a city girl like you doing all the way here in rainy ol' Seattle? Besides to work here?" Alex chimed in, "Family, stuff." I spoke shortly, in hopes of ending the conversation.
"That's nice that you can be near family here. Also, who's service are you on?" Izzie asked. "I have Dr. Bailey," I spoke as I stood up while closing my locker. "Awesome, she has the Nazi too." Christina deadpanned as they all began to finish up. "Christina, be nice!" Meredith nudged Christina's arm and tried her best to whisper that to her but failed. "We can show you where she is today." The group leaves the locker room and I trail behind them to find my Aunt.
We head to the elevator and we make it to the third floor, where we come to a spacious waiting area and a front desk that I'd assume contained charts and other important patient information. Among the crowd of people walking around stood Auntie Mandy, writing in a chart binder at the front desk. "Good morning Dr. Bailey." They all said one by one, before George spoke, "I think we have a new intern with us that's on your service." That sparked her to look up from the chart. "New intern? What new intern?" She said almost with an attitude. They all miraculously parted like the Red Sea to reveal my presence to her.
"Well, I'll be damned! If it isn't AJ!" Bailey replied with a smile before running up to hug me, which shocked the group as if they had never seen her act sweet towards anyone. She released me from her grasp and said, "I had no idea they were assigning you to my service! How's your mom? I know everyone must miss me back there in Illinois." Bailey chirped. I hesitated and replied shortly, "Everyone's fine and they do." I laughed awkwardly. "Wait? How do you know Dr. Bailey and how does she know you?" Christina asked, answering the burning question that was floating around in everyone's head.
"She's-" Before Dr. Bailey could finish her sentence our pagers went off. Talk about being saved by the bell. Or beep in this case. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding in as we all began to follow Bailey's orders on where to be assigned. George ended up being the one to be my guide for the day as I helped him with patients and got used to doing checkups and filling out charts for a few hours. After that, Bailey assigned George to teach me how to run labs and work on sutures in the pit, as well as prescribing actual medicine to the patients. Before I knew it, it was lunchtime.
"Hey, would you like to have lunch with me? I'm usually with everyone because we all eat together sometimes." George asked softly as we headed to the cafeteria I assumed. "Uh, sure." I agreed. I brought a simple lunch with me, a turkey sandwich, apple slices, and carrots. While George offered to buy me apple juice. As I began to sit down next to George, Christina let out a loud groan and said lowly to herself, "Why did George invite someone we barely know to lunch, it's like she's his pet or something." This time Merideth kicked Christina's leg under the table, which caused her to verbally say 'ow' in response.
Upon hearing that comment, before I could start eating I got up and excused myself by saying, "I think left my pager in my locker. I'm gonna go get it." I grabbed all of my things and left immediately, what did I expect from a bunch of strangers? I found an empty hallway with abandoned beds and I ate in silence.
George's POV
AJ grabbed her things and speed walked away. Christina scoffed and spoke, "Looks like she ran off to go find her mommy, Dr. Bailey," Everyone let out laughs at Christina's 'joke' if you even call it that. "Enough!" I yelled as I slammed my hands on the table, "She has been nothing but nice to you guys and this is how you treat her on her first day? People deserve chances and you guys never even gave her that option to one." I grabbed the rest of my lunch and stormed off in hopes of finding AJ, before hearing out what everyone was going to say to my brief speech.
AJ's POV
I was almost done eating my lunch when I heard a familiar voice say, "There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" It was George. What a relief. "You have?" I said as I finished the last of my apple slices before I threw away the remaining trash. "Look, I'm sorry that they were mean to you, they don't like new people coming into their space." George apologized before he sat somewhat next to me. "You don't have to apologize for them George, it's not your place to apologize for them." I feigned a smile to try to reassure him.
"Sometimes they make fun of me too. And I wonder if they're my friends or if I'm convincing myself that they are," George confessed. "Well, can you be yourself when you're around them?" I questioned. George didn't answer. "If you have to think about it for a long time then maybe you should reconsider if they are your friends. Real friends don't make fun of you for being you. They appreciate your uniqueness and don't judge you." I declared. "It seems like you're a friend expert." I laughed a little at his comment. "I've had a lot of friends but never kept any of them so I know what it's like." I spoke truthfully, "Thanks for the lunch, George." I thanked him before I walked away once again.
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By that evening, my hands and feet were tired from walking and constantly talking to all the people. I desperately needed time to recharge my social battery because I could feel myself starting to get overstimulated. The lights were starting to get too bright and the bustling noise could make anyone go insane. I had a few minutes to myself in the on-call room so I spent it playing with my Tangle fidget toy and listening to a playlist of my favorite Michael Jackson songs in the dark while lying down on one of the beds on the bottom bunk. Needless to say, I ended up falling asleep for a good hour before I faintly heard the door open.
"AJ, wake up, Dr. Bailey needed me to find you," George said as he tapped my shoulder in an attempt to wake me. I groaned before sitting up on my elbows and glaring at him for waking me up, "I'm sorry to wake you but she needs more hands in the pit." He confessed which caused me to roll my eyes. I nodded before shoving my MP3 player and fidget toy down in my lab coat pocket. I put my shoes back on while George watched and we both headed out to the pit together.
Only a few more hours to go.
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My first 12-hour shift was finally over. The aching in my feet was beyond compare even though I had comfortable shoes on made for walking. I went back to the locker room to change and I found myself left with a few people and George changing near me. "Are you autistic? I mean, if you are that's okay with me. I won't tell the others if you don't want to tell them so that they don't make fun of you. I'm not saying that they will but they can be mean sometimes. Well, not Izzie. Wait no, Izzie can be mean sometimes but not in-" I just stared at him until he finished rambling.
"Sorry, that was rude. I didn't mean to assume or anything. It's just that I-" George began again before I stopped him. This must have been on his mind all day. "Yes, I'm autistic and I have Adhd as well. And I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone because I don't want any attention on me about it. People will treat me differently." I shrugged it off to George as I grabbed my bag. "Can I ask why?" George said as he sat down on the bench. "Why what?" I replied, not looking at him. "Why don't you want to tell anyone?" I let out a huff and closed the locker before I faced him.
"This is breaking my rules," I mumbled, "Rules? What do you mean?" There was confusion in his voice but I could hear that he wanted to understand. "Ever since I was a kid, I always knew that I was different. I never had a lot of friends growing up and I never was invited to birthday parties because of how people treated me for being different. I don't normally spill my life to people I just met but I feel like I can trust you. I've been judged about my diagnosis of AuDHD. There's no point in trying to be myself when I can be what people expect me to be."
"But doesn't that get tiring? Having to mask all the time?" He asked and I nodded quickly. "It's hard to get a break and for people to not stare at me when I stim and fidget," I said disappointingly, "But what do I expect?" I shrugged it off and began to make my way to the door. "It's hard being myself in a room full of people who don't get you, but thanks anyway for trying to understand George, have a good night."
And with that, I once again walked away. It's becoming a habit now.
------
(A month later, at the start of episode 9)
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Izzie had invited me over to help cook and decorate the house for Thanksgiving. I wore a simple outfit, a black long sleeve with denim jeans and black Converse. My favorite brand of shoes.
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When I arrived I was greeted by Izzie rushing to get me inside. "I need you to get George for me, he's upstairs and he's supposed to be helping me cook but he hasn't left his room yet," Izzie said frantically. "Oh, okay. Um. Where exactly is his room? I've never been here before." I said while taking off my leather jacket and Izzie hanging it up for me.
"It's up the stairs, down the hall, and to the right." I listened to her directions and I reached George's room. I gently knocked on the door and waited for a reply. "Come in!" George said from the other side. I carefully opened it and saw him fully clothed on his bed with his eyes shut. "Why are you just lying on your bed?" I spoke as I closed his door behind me. He quickly opened his eyes, not knowing it was me.
"AJ! I- when did you get here?" He hurried and sat up to look at me. "I got here just now, not too long ago. You know Izzie wants you downstairs to help right?" I sat down on the end of his bed before he plopped back down with a huff. "I know but I'm afraid to go out there." I quirked a brow, "Afraid? Why would you be afraid?" As I said that he held his hands up and began counting down from 10. A thunderous noise arose from downstairs, and just when he reached zero, 3 men barged into his and screamed, "O'Malley!!"
Startled by the sudden noise, I looked at George for an answer. "Because of that." George huffed again. "Georgie, since when did you have a girlfriend? And she's hot too." I was taken aback at the man's comment. "C'mon, you know Georgie never gets laid," George rolled his eyes before getting up, trying to hide his embarrassment from me. "Please ignore my idiotic brothers," He began to go to his closet and grab camo wear. "Where are you going? Aren't you going to help Izzie?" There was desperation in those chocolate-brown eyes of his, and just when he was about to explain himself the older man chimed in and said, "Our Georgie is gonna kill his first turkey this year, I can feel it!"
"Dad you know Georgie isn't gonna kill a turkey, he never does." His eldest brother spoke, "No, he's gonna chicken out like how he usually does-" "Shut up!" George says while his brothers laugh, his face turning as red as a tomato now. "I'll be back as soon as I can to help. I promise I won't miss dinner." George tells me as he puts on his beanie and I thought he couldn't look any cuter. "Well, you better tell Izzie that," I scoffed as his family began to drag him out of the room chanting 'O'Malley' over and over again until they were down the stairs and out of the door.
"I don't think they're coming back any time soon." Izzie whined, "I hope he doesn't actually kill a bird."
---
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all-pacas · 1 month
Text
ok i was trying to nap because i'm sick and i couldn't sleep and instead i was thinking about house medical doctor. and like. ok. chase is my special favorite, right? i want to punch him in his face, right?
-
I was thinking, though. It's easy to… smooth over and buff out characters to make them more appealing. To focus on traits and interpretations that you like. And to be clear I do think Chase has a lot of good qualities, both in terms of being a likeable character (he's clever! He doesn't take himself that seriously and isn't ego driven, unlike many others in the cast!) and being a fun character to watch (he's always pulling weird faces or being sarcastic!).
But he also has some real fucking character flaws, so let's talk about them. Because I want to. Because I don't like smoothing people out to fit a Narrative. I want to talk about his apathetic moral vacancy.
Like. Chase is apathetic. He truly and honestly doesn't give a shit about other people a lot of the time. He's not aggressive about it, he's not cruel — he tends to be fairly polite, although he's not great at hiding it ("the nurse's phone can take pictures!" "………cool"), he doesn't often talk shit. When he dislikes a patient, he at least tries to hide it (contrast with Foreman, who genuinely sucks at this). But that doesn't mean he cares. He is absolutely fine with lying to patients (Post Mortem), or with billing people for tests and not telling them (Safe). He doesn't care if that's shady. He's super ethically flexible, is the only one of the fellows to be openly pro euthanasia, has zero moral issue with treating Dibala. This clearly isn't because Chase believes so strongly that being a doctor should make you neutral to petty political beliefs, he just… doesn't care much. It doesn't bother him. I don't think he'd go out of his way to be harmful or cruel to someone, but he also isn't going out of his way to help them either.
While we do see him advocating for his patients and getting involved now and then (mostly with children), he never really has any moments where he takes a stand or fights for someone. Cameron, by contrast, does this constantly (The Itch, Acceptance, Fidelity…). Foreman also has several episodes (Fools For Love, Whac-A-Mole, a lot of his S3 development tbh) where he finds and bonds with and over-invests in a patient. The closest Chase ever comes to "getting way too involved in someone's life because he cares" is Moira in Chase, and she's preeeetty explicitly called out as him rebounding and acting out; he's doing the Wilson-Amber reinvent yourself after trauma thing, and it wears off pretty quickly. In Cameron and Foreman's cases too, it's more about their personal issues than the patient in question… but Chase's situation was really about him.
Speaking of being morally vacant! When Cameron might be infected with HIV (Hunting), he expresses some concern and House immediately mocks him for being fake. I don't actually know that it was (he certainly keeps up the thread of suggesting she should take some time off, he's not just being performative), but it's telling that the first reaction to Chase showing concern for anyone is "lol, who are you kidding?" Cameron accuses him later that of not being a good guy. She wants to get laid and live life on the edge, and the person that jumps to her mind when she wonders "who would be down for doing me on meth" is Chase. Nor is she wrong. Chase is an opportunist. Tritter calls him one, and Tritter is correct. He rats to Vogler to save his job, and is barely sorry for it; I'm not sure he ever apologizes. Everyone expects he'll immediately run to Tritter and a huge source of tension in Finding Judas is that Chase can't win: Foreman and Cameron already assume he has, that he's too spoiled and weak to not. Later in S3, when Cameron propositions him, he again goes "free sex?" and signs up, despite calling her out on what a demeaning offer she's making. He tends to pick the easier options. He stays a diagnostics fellow for years longer than anyone else, because it's a safe space. It's easy. He'd rather be a follower than take any risks. (I think there is no room for a reality where he refused his dad's money out of spite or pride. Why would he refuse a trust fund? It's easy. It's right there.)
We actually do see him lash out and stand up for himself here and there. He pushes back against Cameron a few times, actually (Act your Age, Saviors, Teamwork), and he's also pushed back against Foreman and House. But it's only for himself. I can't think of a time he went far out of his way to defend one of his coworkers, or his boss, or a patient. He did get mad enough to, uh, kill, when Dibala threatened Cameron. Which: fair enough? But he doesn't care much for things outside of his immediate influence. He has no problem shrugging off Cuddy in Living the Dream, or an armed gunman in Last Resort. He has no moral stances or political beliefs that we know of (besides, uh, fat people suck and the US immigration system is annoying). He very much does care about people, he's pretty clear that at least some of his apathy is a defense thing after a deeply fucked up childhood, but it's always despite himself. He prefers to do his job and go home. There's an old not-joke about how all surgeons have god complexes. Chase being a surgeon is kind of a retcon, and in a lot of ways he doesn't fit the stereotype — he's not particularly arrogant or superior, he's not even ambitious. He does get touchy about being called wrong, or accused of making mistakes, but I don't think he's any worse than the others on that front (or more prone to making mistakes). But that indifference? His sort of general aloofness? He cares about himself, and his little circle, and watches his own back, and that's it. He doesn't dislike other people, but he doesn't care much either way. Foreman accuses him of being fake. Everyone accuses him of being morally vacant, an opportunist who will do anything if it improves his own situation. And… yeah. Kinda.
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ashedink · 1 month
Text
A Vulture In Therapy
It’s Never Been About Death (But It Is All I Think About)
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The hospital was like a labyrinth. I remember having an anxiety attack the first time I went to inpatient therapy here, and the nurses who were talking to me were absolutely useless. They sent me to the wrong floor and were really pushy and suffocating even as I was starting to twitch and cry and hyperventilate.
Now I wore the same sticker tag every day and knew the route. Why did it require two different elevators to get to this floor? I have no clue. I didn’t build it.
My therapist and psychiatrist both wanted me to attend inpatient therapy, saying that it might help me develop some healthier coping strategies, and determine if further treatment would be worth pursuing. I think they were worried about how my suggestion for treatment overlapped with my obsession with death. People get concerned when I talk about how often I think about death. I have to reassure people over and over again that I don’t want to die. It’s a macabre and spiritual fascination. The historical, chemical, spiritual, emotional, and biological process fascinate me. Everything dies. It's one thing all of us animals of planet earth truly have in common.
And death feeds life. That has been the case almost since life has been.
Today was my next to last day. It helped to see other people who were struggling like me, especially when we helped each other with wisdom for our own lives. I made some friends I would never see again. I shared some good moments and some uncomfortable ones. Today was going to show them this other side of me, though.
Today we also ended up, intentionally or otherwise, with death as the main topic of discussion.
When you live in the south it’s hard to find anything that is secular. Even things explicitly said to be secular make sure that there is all the space for religious talk that people could possibly want. I mean I suppose it’s fair, we were talking about death and many people process death through religion.
Still, people kept trying to include me specifically in their religious talk, so when it was my time to speak…
Well…
“I’m not a religious person.”
Several people’s faces got awkward as they realized they had been trying to rope what they assumed was the only atheist in the zipcode into their church talk.
“I am spiritual though. I think about death a lot. I never learned how to mourn correctly. My family tried to hide death from me. I was never allowed to feel or express negative emotions, so even when someone died, I didn’t know how to cry anymore. I would just go numb. Besides, other people around me needed me, and I have a chronic need to be there for other people when they need me. I am a person who can reschedule grief. A month or two months or three would pass and then suddenly that grief would come knocking. My grandmother passed last year. It took me two months of time and three solid days alone to break down and cry.”
I tastefully edited out that the bourbon helped too, because two of the people there were recovering alcoholics.
“To me, the vulture is a sacred animal.”
I held up the painting I’d worked on during art therapy. It was of a swarm of black birds ascending into the sky. I know it looked grim and ominous to other people, but as I talked I could see them begin to understand.
“It doesn’t waste. I love scavengers in general. Creatures that take up the unwanted or lost. I see vultures and I see the grim cleaners of the world. Many people don’t see the value of the scavenger, but we’re far better off with them in it than without. Did you know that in areas with low vulture populations, rabies is more common? This is because without flocks of vultures to break down carcasses quickly, they are instead visited by feral dogs, coyotes, foxes, racoons, and many other mostly mammalian opportunist. This makes carcasses a disease vector. Parasites and disease can spread from conflicts over a carcass,” I realized I was beginning to overshare one of my hyperfixations. Time to wrap it up. “They rarely kill. They consume the rotten and undesirable. They prevent disease. I love seeing them because to me they are not just symbols of death, they’re life. There is no real death here, only the cycle of life reusing its building blocks to make more life. I don’t want to be embalmed when I die. I want to be put in the earth to rot, that way the molecules that make up my body can be where they belong. Everywhere. Death as a continuation of life. Everything that consumes me, I will be.”
I was used to creeping people out. The room was quiet for a bit, digesting the condensed documentary I had just unloaded on them, punctuated with my funeral plans.
What do you see when you look at me? I don’t look like a monster, not until you interact with me. My way of talking has never been quite human. I am physically the human animal. I don’t like that many humans don’t see themselves as animals. We are. We’ve tricked ourselves into thinking we aren’t, that we are something separated from the animals and plants and dirt, and that’s not healthy.
So I refuse to act. It unsettles people.
I am an animal of the dirt and sky and rain.
I just happen to wear human skin.
The conversation moved on.
The day’s session came to a close.
There was a new respect for vultures in that room. I walked away feeling lighter in mind and body. I stood on the 3rd floor of the parking garage and looked out over the streets.
I opened discord on my phone and scrolled back through a conversation with a friend.
-
tigergirltail - 06/06/2024 9:50 AM
Maybe wanting to be a therian is a symptom of being a therian. It didn't occur to me until last night that wanting to have the dreams was a sign.
ashedink 06/06/2024 9:51 AM
That’s a good point.
Kinda like how some people figure out they’re trans, not because of a presence of gender dysphoria, but by the absence of gender euphoria.
tigergirltail - 06/06/2024 9:55 AM
Wanting it is that first symptom.
Yeah, literally how I awakened.
-
We’ve been friends for so long, and we’re still finding new bridges to cross together.
Maybe I will follow you over this one too, if my therapist is satisfied with how inpatient therapy went.
Is it arrogant to try to become that which I hold in such high spiritual regard? Maybe that’s just human greed want it. There is no dysphoria here, I simply exist as I am regardless of my vessel.
But maybe I should try it. Maybe euphoria is waiting for me in an unexpected shape.
I mean, I’ll be an animal either way.
Maybe I'll be a happy animal.
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animeyanderelover · 8 months
Note
I was so excited that I stayed up for this.
May I request hcs of ryuken (I have a slight obession of this man.) with a judge darling who over works themself to the point of passing out. Like they go to work earlier and come home later than him. And they leave the hospital going against medical orders and say to the nurse " Tell doctor Ishida that I am leaving since I have a hearing in 2 hours, if he wants to see me he can see me at home. " Thank you
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, paranoia, controlling behavior
Judge darling who overworks themselves
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◻️It truly is the definition of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. Truly, if you wouldn't push yourself so much Ryuken could admire this all a bit more. After all he appreciates your hard work and your respectable job. After all both of you have jobs where you essentially hold control over someone else's life and Ryuken wants to admire that. But he just can't do that with the way you constantly go against the medical orders he places upon you. Your partner has a tendency to be a bit more controlling, especially since he is a doctor and the director of the hospital in this town. So of course he would react very sensitive when he finds out that you overwork yourself to the point where you skip sleep and faint due to exhaustion and a lack of proper nutritions. You can protest and claim to know the limits of your body all you want but you aren't the medic in this relationship. He is and so he knows best.
◻️This topic is sure to spark a lot of discussions and arguments between the two of you. You are extremely stubborn and refuse to listen to Ryuken whilst he just ends up belittling you for your attitude. You're acting like a little child in his eyes right now, one that doesn't know when to stop. He thought that you would know better than that but apparently he was wrong. Those arguments never end in a shouting match though because both of you think that you're above screaming at each other from the top of your lungs. Instead there are sharp glares thrown at each other, words dripping with sarcasm fired at each other and constant belittlements directed at each other. Ryuken would rather not spend so much time arguing and destroying the domestic bliss but you give him no choice. He won't back down and watch you ruin your health.
◻️He tries to approach this all logically for a while in hopes of reasoning with you. So he explains to you that if you were one day to seriously suffer from the constant days and nights of overworking yourself, you wouldn't be able to help all your clients and bring justice upon the court. Can't you see that your reckless behavior is also harming other people? If you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for your clients who need you in your best condition. Or do it for him, your husband who is very worried about your health. Even as he tells you this argument, he can't hide the sharp edge in his voice completely. He considers himself a patient man but even he is slowly losing his patience here because both of you have been quarreling like this for way too long now. And you still refuse to listen to the his advice. The advice of your husband and an actual doctor.
◻️Ryuken finally reaches a limit when he finds out that you constantly leave the hospital and go against medical orders despite having fainted prior to being brought there. He will absolutely not tolerate such neglectful behavior for one's own health. Fine. If you refuse to properly take care of yourself, he will have to take some measurements then. He starts meddling with your job as he talks to people you work with to bring them on his side and convince you to take a few steps back and relax from your constant work. He starts taking this matter more to the public and even if he dislikes sharing what is privately happening between you two normally, this is for your own good. He plans to make people aware of what you're doing and uses his influence as an actual doctor to strengthen their belief to trust his words that you need to slow down or else you might suffer serious consequences later on in your life.
◻️You hear words from your concerned colleagues soon after and storm angrily to Ryuken who calmly stands there and listens to your furious rant. He rebukes you for your accusations though as he explains to you that he only informed people about this because apparents his own words as your lover and doctor weren't enough. You really are too reckless for your own good but he won't allow anything to happen to you just because you are too stubborn to just sit down and rest for a while. You are worse than he is and that is already an achievement in itself. He additionally scolds you for leaving the hospital despite the medical orders for you to just spend a day or two there and rest. Are you even aware of the risks? Next time you will head the advice he gives you as your doctor.
◻️Ryuken is definitely persistent and you feel his influence in the people around you who try to encourage you to work less and take more breaks. This only adds gasoline to the flames and obviously you try to work even more as a protest. Only that you soon find out that Ryuken has stepped his own game up. He stays longer awake himself to catch you before you can leave for work again and when you scold him for getting too little sleep he quickly points out the sheer hypocrisy in your words as you have been doing the very same thing even longer than he has and even locks the door to the bedroom to prevent you from leaving. He uses the same strategy whenever you end up once again in the hospital as he makes sure to lock the door that would allow you to leave the room and tries to take as much time to stay with you in the same room to ensure that you take proper rest. As soon as you start an argument with him, you just receive this cold glare from him. You got yourself in this situation. If you would have just listened to him, none of this would have to happen. But he'll keep on playing this game you try to play until you learn your lesson.
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appocalipse · 2 years
Note
Idk if you're still doing that prompt list but "sick" or scenario 13 with Steve would be 🥹🥹
i wasn't going to do it anymore, but...reading those prompts gave me an idea so i decided to try ♥ i kinda mixed them together
[SICK; Trying not to look but helping them out of their clothes when they’re physically unable to, both of them so close together. ]
"Steve," you had called, worry eating at you. Halfway to the front door, he'd turned and looked at you over his shoulder. And so, even though you knew the answer, even though you hated the answer he would inevitably give you, you'd asked, "Do you have someone to take care of you?"
And that's how, you remind yourself, you ended up where you are now — moments away from helping him out of his clothes.
The thought seems alarming, but there's nothing romantic or sexual about it.
Or at least there shouldn't be.
"Here," you say, touching the hem of his sweater with shaky hands, hoping he doesn't notice your inexplicable uneasiness. "Let me help you."
Steve lets you. He's a much better patient than you are a nurse, you think. But the reason you're here, helping him out of his uncomfortable clothes so he can hopefully catch some sleep is pretty valid: he's broken his right arm, and as if it wasn't bad enough there is also a cut on the left side of his abdomen, just below the ribs, big enough he'd needed 8 stitches to close it.
In his defense, the car crash hadn't been his fault. 
The sweater is gone after what seems like an eternity of careful movements and apologies at every slightest hint that Steve was in pain (although he'd assured you the whole time that it's okay, it's okay, I'm fine), but in the end, you're successful. How the people at the hospital had managed to get those clothes on him so quickly is an absolute mystery to you. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, a small burden lifted from your shoulders. You don't even have to look to know that Steve is beaming. The fact that he is so calm through it all is even more maddening to you.
Next up is his t-shirt. 
The cycle of nervousness starts all over again when your fingers find the hem of his shirt and you start to lift it up, exposing a small sliver of skin, then a bit more...
Steve says your name and it's the first thing he says after many minutes of being silent, so you lift your head to look at him without a second thought. 
"Breathe," he says, certainly not without kindness but with an unmistakable amount of amusement in his tone as well.
He's too close. Almost nose to nose, a hairsbreadth of distance between your face and his.
And yes, as much as it bothers you to admit it, Steve is right — you were holding your breath without realizing it.
He bites his lip to hide a smile. "That's not funny," you chide, though you're trying to contain your own smile.
"You're nervous."
"You had eight stitches and broke an arm."
"Sorry."
"It wasn't your fault," you say, because it wasn't, although he probably isn't apologizing for that specifically.
Steve always drives carefully and responsibly, most likely because there's almost always one of the kids in the backseat of his car. The problem that caused the accident was some malfunction in the car, something you hadn't quite understood because all you could really think about since you found out that Steve had crashed the car was him; if he would be okay, if you'd be able to see him, if he'd be in pain. Most of the explanations got lost on the way from your ears to your brain.
"I meant I'm sorry for calling you," says Steve, and for the first time he sounds serious, almost embarrassed. "From the hospital. They tried my parents first, but they-"
"-are idiots," you say, with more contempt than you probably should let on. Then you realize how rude that probably sounded like. "Sorry, I-I shouldn't have said that. They're still your parents and-"
To your surprise, Steve laughs — a low, small chuckle that barely lasts a second, and even so it's enough to make him wince, probably feeling pain. Fortunately, it passes quickly. "No, no, you're right. I was going to say they're out of town as always, but you're right. They are idiots."
You smile.
The feeling that took over you the moment you'd arrived at the hospital to see Steve and realized that he was there, alone, was indescribable. He was alone in there as if he had no family. As if nobody cared about him. 
Maybe it was for the better that his parents didn't show up until now, you think. You're not quite sure what you would have said or done if they had appeared in front of you.
Great. Now there's a lump in your throat. 
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Steve would have shrugged if he wasn't injured, you're sure. "I'm used to taking care of myself, it's no big deal."
"Well, you can forget about that," you say firmly. Because I'm going to take care of you from now on, you hope he understands.
He doesn't say anything. It doesn't seem like he's able to, you realize. But, in his silence, Steve understands; he understands so well that he cannot express his gratitude in words, his affection. He hopes that you will be able to read it in his eyes.
Back to your task, you take a deep breath, looking away from his face to where your hands are gripping the fabric tightly. You help him pull his shirt over his head very slowly, very carefully. 
If Steve feels any pain, he doesn't let it show. It wouldn't be the first time, but you hope it's not the case, hope he's not in pain anymore, that he feels he can be vulnerable in front of you. Everyone needs to be at some point.
There's not much else to look at than Steve's now exposed chest, although you do your best not to stare. The flush creeping up your cheeks betrays you, though, and now there's only one piece of clothing remaining. 
Steve is wearing jeans. You can't sleep in jeans, can you?
"You don't sleep with a shirt on, do you?" you ask, wondering if he'd like something else to wear.
"No," he says. "No pants either."
Your mind freezes for a brief second. Probably not your brightest moment. "Do you want me to- I mean-"
You're far from a doctor, but it doesn't seem like a good idea for him to bend over to take off his own pants when he's had that many stitches.
"Are you asking me if I want you to take my pants off?" Steve is making a huge effort not to smirk, you can tell.
How can he be so relaxed?
Somehow what comes out of your mouth is, "I promise I won't look."
"I don't mind if you do."
A shiver runs down your spine and you feel what can only be described as butterflies in your stomach, something wonderful and unnerving at the same time. Your gaze meets his and you try to sound convincing as you say, with your chin held up, "Stop messing with me, Harrington."
"But I like messing with you."
"Oh my God-" you let out something between a sigh and a small laugh. "I hate you."
"You love me."
And then, it's like your mouth works on its own.
"I do," you find yourself saying.
And, as expected, silence follows. Steve looks shocked. This silence seems to last a lifetime, to stretch out impossibly longer — it's an everlasting torture. You didn't mean to drop the l-bomb on him like this, didn't mean to say the words even though you knew them to be true. He probably did too, but hearing it out loud is a different thing entirely.
Steve's mind is a mess.
Did you mean it as a friend?  he wonders.
Did you mean it as something else?
Did you mean it at all?
Then…
Does it change how I feel?
No.
"I love you too."
Unlike you, Steve sounds firm, certain. Like it's a decision. Like he is ready for it to change everything between you two or nothing at all if that's what you want.
"I would do all of this for you too, if you were in my place," he continues…and then he frowns, as if something unpleasant just occurred to him. "Actually, please never be in my place- I don't even want to think about you in pain. Okay?"
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pocketramblr · 9 months
Note
If the ask game is still going, how about an au where Aizawa is actually a time traveling Eri who is trying to prevent the current chapters of the manga from happening?
Absolutely fascinated by the implications of this. "girls who become their fathers" to a new level.
1- Eri lives in a small cabin in the woods with her adopted father. Sometimes, she gets visitors. Mizushima makes sure they have clean water delivered. Tenya sometimes brings people to her to heal. Yamada brings news around to the encampments of survivors. But most days it's quiet. Eri has clothes, but as she gets older she finds she really doesn't like the sweet dresses picked by the nurses. They make her feel like a doll. The bright fun clothes her father got her, for a show that doesn't play anymore, is alright. Comfy. But so are the plain dark hand me downs. The boys clothes. Shouta cuts her hair over the sink.
2- Most days are quiet, calm. Shouta braids their hair, reads them books, tries to cook. But some days, the quiet is not calm. It is plans, whispered back and forth. Shouta them more than the others, the child knows. Rational deception. It would make Deku sad. But Deku isn't here anymore, he's sleeping and won't wake up, like their grandfather won't. But there a plan.
3- And then it's time for the plan. He's thirteen. He leaves the cabin with Shouta for the last time. They go to the place with the machine, and the child gets a shot. Momo says that he'll be able to handle a second quirk, abilities carefully copied from samples from Shouta, Deku, and Monoma. The child's eyes begin to burn. Shouta presses a bottle of eye drops into his hand and a brief kiss to his forehead, on the other side of the tall curving horn. The child will wear it down to a nub as he powers the machine far enough, and crashes to the floor of Nedzu's office over two decades earlier.
4- The boy gives Nedzu some answers, and lets him puzzle out the others. Nedzu, in return, gives him documents. Officially, he's now Aizawa Shouta. He leaves, and will return later as a UA student determined to focus on preventing a full scale collapse of society as they know it. The messy hair hides the nub of his horn when it's down, and the movement of floating up around it usually covers it then too, but he's careful to use Rewind enough to keep it low and avoid detection. It's absolutely necessary to keep AfO from discovering his quirk in this time- he knows that is part of why his father cut off his own leg and let it go, because the other way to negate the effect of the bullet would have revealed the second quirk hiding behind Erasure, which is desired enough. The cats around his apartment are very healthy, and he secretly thinks it very amusing to watch the younger versions of the teachers he knows. But Shirakumo is different, totally new. He reminds him of Deku and Lemillion both, and he's suddenly dragged into friendship not just with Shirakumo, but the others too.
5- Back in the left-behind-future, Yamada mutters that the kid looked just like...
"Cuz he is." The 38-year-old Aizawa admits. "But it's not a stable loop. Every time, things go better. We'll get it right, eventually."
Yamada closes his eyes.
"You never tell me?"
"I don't know, only that I didn't. He might."
Yaoyorozu looks over from where she's memorizing the formulas before they destroy the lab.
"What is it?" She asks.
"Nothing. Is it safe to move Midoriya yet?"
"Yes. Iida's in charge of that. I... We'll wake him up, soon."
Aizawa hums, and looks over to Yamada. He hopes they can wake him up, one day. And he hopes one day, the child will tell his friends the truth.
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shy-urban-hobbit · 1 year
Note
Hi! If I can ask for another I would love to get 29. pet names from the Soft™ fic prompt meme with Lambert/Aiden, thank you <3 I love your writing 💕
Aaaaw!! Thank you so much!!! And thank you for the prompt!
29 - Pet names. Lambert's pretty sure coming up with a pet name for your ex best friend/ current boyfriend shouldn't be this difficult.
Nobody told Lambert thinking up a suitable pet name was this God's damned difficult. Granted, he wasn’t sure that Aiden was into that sappy shit but Lambert had never had a romantic partner before and he wanted to have at least something to fall back on so he wouldn’t panic and call Aiden something either inappropriate or insulting (looking back, the slap that whore had dealt him that time had been completely justified). He wasn’t overthinking this, he was just trying to be prepared. Shut up.
His family were easy. Either call them what they were, or something that pissed them off. Geralt was “Pretty Boy’ when Lambert wanted to annoy him, same as he was “Lambchop” when Geralt or Eskel wanted to get a rise out of him. Ciri was “Girl” or “Kid”, sometimes “Brat” (affectionate) depending on what mischief she decided to pull that day.
Aiden had been easy too, when they were still just friends and the same rules applied or they'd just call each other increasingly random shit just to see who could make the other laugh first. Now, Lambert wanted something different. Something special just between the two of them – that’s what couples did, right?
He couldn’t exactly just call Aiden “Cat” as that’s what everyone on The Path and everyone else in the Keep used for him (and most of the time that had been intended as an insult until the other Wolves actually got to know him). He’d contemplated just sticking to the classics, but Jaskier had low-key ruined that for him by casually calling everyone some variation of “Love” or “Darling” or “Sweetheart” (or some sickening combination of all three if he was drunk and your name was Geralt), Aiden included.  He sighed as he looked over the sheet of paper in front of him absolutely covered with rejected possibilities (which he must remember to burn later). Alright, so maybe he was overthinking this.
Lambert didn’t bother trying to hide his grin as he continued cleaning the blade of his sword with a soft rag, half of his attention on Aiden. The Cat’s mending lay abandoned as he perched on the edge of his chair, eagerly following the small blob of light reflecting off the blade and onto the wall, his fingers and legs twitching as if he were resisting the urge to pounce, Lambert was pretty sure his pupils were also dilated. He couldn’t resist.
He sniggered to himself as he purposefully jiggled the blade, making the light bounce around erratically.
“Kitten.” Lambert huffed to himself affectionately as he watched Aiden’s whole body weave from side to side trying to track it.
“Hmm? Yeah, Puppy?”
Shit. Of course Lambert would forget now that he wasn’t the only one in the room with enhanced hearing. But then his brain caught up to Aiden’s reply.
“Puppy?”
“Well, it’s only fair if you’re calling me Kitten.” Aiden said with a fond smile. He vacated his own seat and took Lambert’s sword, resting it against the wall before plopping down into the others lap and purring when the Wolf wrapped an arm around his waist, “I won’t if it bothers you though.”
Lambert mulled it over. Everything was screaming at him that he should find it patronising. He just knew that if any of his brothers tried it, they’d be finding themselves nursing at least one bruise. when Aiden said it though...
He shrugged, “I don’t hate it.”
 Aiden’s smile turned slightly predatory, “Want to see how long it takes me to make you whimper like one?”
Lambert didn’t get a chance to answer before Aiden’s mouth was on his, the Cats purrs increasing in volume as Lambert kissed back with a groan.
His Kitten was going to kill him, but what a way to go.
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weaselishmcdiesel · 2 years
Note
clears throat this is long as hell uhhhhhhh sorry <333
so.
grian recovers very quickly after the reveal, adjusting to the fact that it’s just a party and starts mingling. as he does yknow. but mumbo absolutely noticed his shock at the reveal, and he can’t believe that he actually managed to hide it that well, so there must be something else going on
he asks grian about it, when they get a moment alone, both nursing drinks in the corner as the others prepare to cut the cake
“i— sorry if i’m reading this wrong,” he begins, stumbling over the words, “but you, uh— were you— you seemed shocked.”
grian tilts his head slightly, “what?”
“uh, sorry,” mumbo is flushed, his face turning beet red as tries to clarify, “at the reveal. of the- the party.”
grian, who had been taking a sip of his drink, chokes on his drink slightly at the words.
“oh gosh, uh— goodness,” mumbo pats his back as he sputters for a few long moments
“are you… you alright, mate?”
grian nods, with a strangled noise of agreement.
“peachy,” he adds.
“right,” mumbo’s hands have begun to sweat, he reaches one to intertwine with grian’s fingers as a comfort, “so..?”
grian squeezes his hand, “i thought— uh. nevermind.”
he looks embarrassed, more than anything, and the pit of nerves that has slowly been knotting in mumbo’s stomach loosens. he watches grian’s humiliated face, the way that his cheeks flush and his nose wrinkles, and he can’t stop a short chuckle passing his lips.
grian glares at him lightheartedly, and mumbo rolls his eyes as he tugs the smaller man towards him with their joined hands. grian slots naturally into his side, body melting until they are fitting together perfectly, as though he was always meant to be there.
he clears his throat, not wanting to drop the subject, since grian seems to be playing at being miffed more than anything.
“what did you think was going on?” he asks again, voice aloof and knowing all at once.
grian simply stares at the cup in his hand, the drink suddenly much more interesting than anything else in the room.
mumbo laughs again, a shaking giggle as he tightens his grip on grian, “c’mon man, you can’t *not* tell me, after all of this.”
their eyes meet, and mumbo observes as the other’s gaze roves over his features, taking in every detail, searching for something, before there is something hardening behind his eyes.
“i thought,” grian says slowly, carefully, “that you were going to— to ask me to marry you.”
“you—“ mumbo’s feels like one of his prototype contraptions, stuttering and buffering, before ceasing to function entirely, “you what?!”
“see?” grian’s face is on fire as he goes to bury it in mumbo’s chest, his next words muffled by mumbo’s party suit, “in my defence, you were being very suspicious.”
“so you jump straight to marriage?” mumbo whines, “gri— grian, please know that i would talk to you about it if i was planning on proposing.”
“are you saying you’re not planning on bagging me officially?” grian questions, a grin clear in his voice.
“well,” mumbo begins, indignantly, “i’d say that i’ve had you ‘bagged officially’ for a long time now.”
“buy me a ring, mumbo.”
the noise that follows somewhat resembles a deflating balloon, and the vampire finds himself wishing he was one with the floor. grian simply chuckles, pressing a kiss to his chest where he has his face buried.
they stand quietly for a second, mumbo desperately trying to recover from such an outlandish idea as they sway slightly, out of time with the blaring music.
grian is the one to break the silence first, “this feels silly.”
mumbo snorts, nodding. “it is a little silly.”
“mhm,” a sly grin creeps onto the avian’s lips, “but we’re a little silly.”
mumbo leans down, resting his head atop his lover’s, and sighs.
“i can’t believe you thought i was going to propose to you…”
“well, i can’t believe that you’re still stuck on that. it was like, ages ago- forget about it, mumby.”
“would you,” mumbo clears his throat, “would you want to marry me?”
grian suddenly pulls himself up, his features softened with fondness as he cradles mumbo’s face in his hands, “this better not be an official proposal, mumbo. you can do better than this, i believe in you—“
“no, you spoon! just… would you want that, eventually?”
grian leans forward, pressing a long kiss to his lips.
“yes,” he mumbles into the kiss, lingering for a moment more before he’s pulling away. “yes. we’ll get married, eventually. after a good proposal, something fancy.”
mumbo simply laughs, a watery smile on his lips, before scar appears in the corner of his vision to drag the pair away for cake.
PART 2/2
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I FUCKING LOVE COMMUNICATION AND MATURITY AND TRUST AND VULNERABILITY WAAAAAA THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD i can hear precisely what deflated balloon sound you mentioned your mumbo is so fucking. correct akshjdfasdj WAAAA MAX THIS IS REALLY REALLY CUUUUUTE OTLLLLLLL HIP HIP HOORAY FOR CERTAIN MARRIAGE !!!!!!!
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Text
Watching Cult of Chucky
I'm watching Cult of Chucky and damn I feel bad for Andy (I'm watching the movies out of order (meaning the ones with Jennifer Tilly) so I have very little idea who he is)
Poor Nica 🥺 she deserves so much better
All, she and Tiffany have so much in common, they've both been electrocuted🥺
The scenery in this is so eerie and awesome 👀
I think Carlos is gonna die, but I kinda like him😔
Awwwwwww he gave her gum 🥺
The lady who's acting like she's invisible creeps me out and Nica is already nicer than me, cause I would've said no when asked if I could see her
Michael is weird, I don't trust him, and I'm guessing he's gonna do something with that gum
Oh damn, now they're having sex😭😭😭 I mean good for Nica, but I will always ship her and Tiffany 😂
Yup, Angela is creepy as hell
OH SHIT CHUCKY'S COMING FOR NICA👀👀👀
Oh shit
YOU IDIOT (THE DOCTOR) I think he's in league with Chucky
Michael is me😭😭😭 (hiding in his sweatshirt when the girl starts hugging the doll)
Madeleine is definitely gonna get killed by the doll
Nica is so nice 🥺🥺
Nica's totally wondering who she had sex with😂😂😂
Oh no, she's got a visitor 👀👀
TIFFANY!!!!
Tiffany is seizing Nica up👀
Tiffany being told she doesn't seem motherly (she's like wtf)😂😂
Tiffany's eyes when Nica asks how Alice is🥺 like for a moment she felt bad for her
NOOOOO ALICE IS DEAD?😭😭😭
Her fake tears when she realizes she's supposed to be more emotional than she is😂😂
Damn, she's really telling Nica her niece died of a broken heart, knowing full well it was Chucky (I still love her tho)
Damn Tiff😂 she really just put Chucky on Nica's lap? Nica just can't catch a break 😭😂
The way she's like 'this is so sweet' and then just leaves😂
Oh she 💯 said the good luck to Chucky
I love how when she loves someone, she loves them with her whole heart, but she absolutely deserves better 🥺
Oh noooooo not Carlos 🥺🥺
They really should have the sharps in a more secure place
The way Chucky is taken aback from Angela saying he shouldn't be afraid of her😂 he's like the AUDACITY
She moved up his list 😂😂😂😂
The thing I find so funny about Chucky is that he has no chill for bullshit or someone being stupid
Rip Angela you were a hoot
Oh damn, Andy tried to help Nica🥺
The way Nica just realized that Valentine is Tiffany 👀
Well that's terrifying (the
I love how Malcolm says to just stay positive 😂
The way he's Mark Zuckerberg 😂😂😂
Well shit, Claire is 💯 gonna die
Nica and Malcolm tried to tell you🙄(the way she believes them now)
Nooooooo Malcolm 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
Dr. Foley sucks
Yeah, Claire you're gonna die
Oh thank god, Malcom is alive
OH SHIT CHUCKY'S MALCOLM NOW? SHIT
Ok that skylight is low-key awesome, and I wouldn't mind a psych stay just for that view alone lol😂😂
Awwww, Chucky's wittle running 🥺
Oh no, compressed air? (ngl I was thought that he was gonna inject her or something)
The way Andy just realized that Chucky is able to possess multiple dolls👀(it did answer my question of how Chucky is able to possess the doll and
Yeah, this doctor is 💯 in league with Chucky & Tiffany
Oh fuck no, he's been assaulting Nica? (And probably his other patients too) HELL NO ASSHOLE
Forget my previous assumptions that he was with Chucky and Tiffany
You know he's a sick dude when even Chucky is appalled
Poor Nica, she just can't win
Damn, Madeleine is nursing Chucky? 😂
TIFFANY!!! I love her sm
The way she does a little shake when she says both her names😂
I truly adore her
If I can be around you all the time, Tiffany/Jennifer, I would happily join the cult
Oh no, Madeleine's chest is bleeding 🥺
Holy shit👀 she just suffocated her child 👀(Chucky) I guess that's how she killed her real kid👀
Huh, they held a funeral for chucky
Good job Andy😂 (he wasn't being let in, so he got himself committed, honestly very smart and kinda relatable)
Well shit, he's come back from the dead👀
Dr. Foley got another doll😂😂😂 I BET ANDY HAD STUFF HIDDEN IN IT!!
Oh Madeleine, have you never see a horror movie before, you don't
Oh shit I just saw Chucky's shadow 👀
Well, I mean it's not technically suicide if she lets Chucky kill her👀
Is he ripping her tongue out? I'm so confused?
Oh, yup, he 💯 ripped that out, yuck
Ooof he left his arm in her mouth 😂
Yeah Carlos get rid of him, THROW HIM INCINERATOR
Nica's just waiting for Foley in his office 😂😂
Damn, poor girl got put in a straight jacket
FOLEY YOU FALL FOR THEM BECAUSE YOU TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THEM AND GET OFF ON IT
You suck man, you SUCK!
What the fuck, he got her heels? Oh fuck no, he just kissed her foot YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE
Ha! She spat in his face 😂 YEAH CHUCKY! HIT HIM IN THE HEAD
I love how Chucky's both disgusted yet vaguely impressed by th absolute sickness of that guy😂
And another Chucky has awoken!
Oh shit, poor Carlos 🥺🥺🥺 poor guy didn't deserve this🥺
The short haired Chucky saying that he's never felt so alive 😂😂😂
I love how all the Chucky's immediately concede that the short haired Chucky is the one who deserves to kill Andy😂
Oooooooooooo 👀 Tiffany is totally gonna kill the guard 👀
The way she laughs when killing the guard is so endearing 🥺
Oh shit👀 so that's how Chucky possesses Nica
The way Chucky stomps all over Foley's head as revenge for Nica is low-key so sweet 🥺
Wait who'd you kill?👀 Awwwwwww poor Angela
Poor Malcom
Wow, Fiona is really KILLING IT as Chucky 😱
Ouchy Andy
I knew he hid something in the doll!!
"Think about it."
*Gun's out of bullets*
"Yeah, thinking is for losers"
Fuck, Tiffany is so hot👀
Really I love Tiffany and Nica, I don't care that they may be toxic
The way Tiffany liked having Alice around🥺🥺
I love their laughs
Like seriously Fiona deserves alllllll the awards for her performance
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if-loki-was-a-fox · 1 year
Text
Here's some Exile AU Peer Pressure Duo rambling bc I haven't said any of this on Tumblr yet — CW for references to abuse, manipulation, trauma, and general unhealthy relationship and Exile Arc stuff
(as always, thank you to @proudfreakmetarusonniku for helping me come up with this AU and a lot of this stuff specifically)
So when exile!Dream discovers exile!Tommy's attempt to hide stuff from him and blows up Logstedshire, he also chops of exile!Ranboo's tail to make the punishment even greater.
e!Tommy, finally realizing that e!Dream isn't their friend (something e!Ranboo still doesn't realize btw) and being unable to properly take care of e!Ranboo's injuries, tells e!Ranboo to run and find e!Techno's cabin, hoping that e!Techno will take care of e!Ranboo and e!Dream won't care enough about losing only on of them to go after e!Ranboo.
So e!Ranboo is badly injured and just generally not doing great after ages in exile, losing their tail, and then running through the tundra in old tattered cloths, so after they pass out on e!Techno's porch they're unconscious/barley conscious for days while e!Techno (and probably e!Phil too) nurse them back to health.
e!Ranboo has no real memories of L'Manburg and hasn't for a while at this point, and by the time they recover from their injuries they don't remember a whole lot about Exile either (esp not with how traumatic the whole thing was). They do however, still have a lot of conditioning left over and a very messed up view on what friendship looks like thanks to what e!Dream taught them. (e!Ranboo absolutely starts trying to figure out what e!Techno wants and likes and doing that and only that to avoid punishment as soon as they wake up, given that they think that's just how relationships work)
So in canon DSMP c!Ranboo has a tendency to use gifts as their main friendship gesture (see, giving c!Timmy alliums, giving c!EmDuo gifts their first or second day in the tundra, and giving c!Techno the ax). This is exacerbated with exile!Ranboo.
For as long as e!Ranboo can remember, one of his two best friends would come by every couple days and take all the stuff he made in the meantime. As such, e!Ranboo thinks they don't deserve to own things and that it's a normal give up all their stuff to e!Techno, the actual owner of all their things. e!Ranboo basically repeats the "put your items in the hole" by giving e!Techno their stuff frequently and getting anxious when they have stuff for too long, something e!Techno doesn't initially pick up on and recognize as abnormal or a trauma thing (he's just overwhelmed by the excessive "affection" and unsure how to emotionally process it).
(One day, e!Techno makes a comment on this behavior and e!Ranboo reacts badly thinking they did something wrong, which is when e!Techno finally realizes that this is Not Normal.)
Also, an important context on e!Techno's part: e!Techno is initially very oblivious to e!Ranboo's trauma, but even as he starts to slowly uncover stuff about e!Ranboo's trauma and abuse, he assumes it comes from L'Manburg, given that L'Manburg is, in his eyes, the Corrupt Evil Government that exiled e!Ranboo and e!Tommy (innocent kids) and tried to execute e!Techno in front of e!Philza. On top of that, what little e!Ranboo does remember of Exile is that e!Dream was his friend, so why would e!Techno ever even consider that e!Dream abused them?
(anyways, if you couldn't tell already, this is very much an Angst/Horror type of AU. e!Techno here is very well set up to side fully with e!Dream against L'Manburg and generally be easily manipulated by him on an ongoing basis. There's a non-zero chance this AU ends with e!Dream getting his really messed up Big Happy Family that he so wants.)
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March 1
First day of pokemon journey.
After the Nidoking incident, Professor Oak asked me if I would be willing to be sponsored by him. Those who are sponsored by Regional Professors usually perform tasks for said professor. My task is to travel the Kanto region, collect and digitize information of pokemon on a specialized laptop.
I received Charmander (Char). Seems like he gets with Slasher just fine.
I only just got out of Pallet Town when Celebi flew right up to my face with a look of pure panic and shoved me into the time stream. I got met with the sight of a giant flower crystal, glowing with such an intensity. Celebi pointed to giant . . . power cords?
The green onion passed mental images of the cords being in certain positions, pointed at the cords again and flew off. I made sure that Slasher and Char were safe in their pokeballs before starting the task.
Power kept fluctuating as I unplugged and plugged the cords. And AZ, the King of Kalos was there. Japan got definitely got one thing right, that man is HUGE! He kept coming out of nowhere, probably to see why the power was acting up. I had to keep running ahead to complete the task Celebi gave me.
Just as I finished, AZ caught me. As expected, he demanded answers. “I’m not doing this to stop you AZ. I don’t have a choice myself.”
AZ tied me up and left me on the ground next to where the controls were. It was pretty terrifying to feel the power build up, the air felt THICK! Celebi flew in and dragged me back to present time just as the weapon went off.
Landing at Pallet Town’s border, I laid on the ground, trying to quickly process what just happened. Char and Slasher released themselves and freed me from the ropes.
"C'mon little ones. Might as well get started."
Turning to head over to the entrance of Route 1, I plucked Char and Slasher up automatically when they held their arms up. I forced myself to walk forward. I’ll freak out later.
An hour passed and we came across a Pidgey being heckled by a Spearow. Slasher and Char chased the Spearow off. Looking at Pidgey, the golden hoop flashed. Pidgey is now Powerglide.
During my time in Pallet Town, I hear many complaints on flocks of Spearow being an absolute menace. I get that now. Have you ever been chased by an anger flock before? For hours on end?
Powerglide stayed tucked in my bag while Char and Slasher sent out attacks to keep the birds off me. And now we have a storm brewing right on top of us. I saw lighting on top of me before. From the safety of my house. But never out in the open.
I ended up taking a tumble down a cliff and knocked someone to the side just as a beam of energy burst by. Turns out I saved Misty from a hyper beam by Gyarados. Her bike got toasted instead.
The birds are still at it, so I grabbed Misty and we booked it.
It was about 7pm when the birds decided they had enough and left. The storm was at an end as well. Ho Oh flew in from the clouds and purposely gave me a feather. The feather melded into the skin of my right arm.
It was 8pm when Misty and I finally reached the Pokemon Center of Viridian City. But things won't stay quiet. Team Rocket came crashing in. I don't mean the comedic Trio. I mean criminals dressed in black with a red R on their chests. They know what they're doing.
Team Rocket barricaded themselves in the Pokemon Center, trying to stall being arrested by the G Men and Lance. I help Nurse Joy and other trainers blockade in the back. I push the last one in before the whole place went into lockdown.
I went to hide. I wasn't stupid. The remaining Rockets tried to find someone to hold hostage. They found me with a crowbar. A few swings to the faces and they were down.
Two more chased me to the back. A Pikachu was chewing on wires on an old piece of equipment. It went boom. I leaped to the side in time. The Rockets didn't. They died.
TT
After giving the officals the needed info, I was outside getting fresh air, scratching at feather on my arm. It was ITCHY. Lance was walking out when he noticed. He's the Champ. Of course he'll recognize the feather. There have been some feathers in the past.
As I was explaining my day, the Johto Beasts came out of nowhere and did a cuddle session with me. Lance took pictures, because they don't usually act like this.
The Beasts left shortly afterwards. Barely making it to the room Misty and I booked, I was greeted with the sight of a humanized? Arceus. He didn't say anything. Just handed me an Arc Phone, patted my head and vanished.
And it was only day 1 of my journey.
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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years
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Online Relationships–Keys
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Keys and Y/N met in Free Life two months ago. Since then, they've logged on at the same time every day, met in the same place, and played the game together. They've talked to each other and learned as much as they could about the other.
She learned about everything that Antwon did and how Keys and Millie got their AI back. He learned everything about her parent's divorce and how the game was her escape from their fighting and the stress of nursing school.
The more they talked, the closer they got to each other. Soon, the only thing that was off about them was the fact that they've never met face-to-face. It's not that they didn't want to meet each other. Neither one of them suggested it first.
Keys was about to change that. He took a shaky breath before blurting out the thing that he's wanted to ask her for a long time.
"We should meet." He quickly added, "You know, in person."
He held his breath as he waited for her response. The longer it took her to say something, the more like an idiot he felt.
"I don't know," she finally stuttered. Her eyes filled with tears when she thought of the last time someone she met online wanted to meet.
"It's not that I don't want to meet you, Keys," she said softly. "It's just. . . Last time. . ."
"Last time? What happened last time?"
"My friends had pushed me to start online dating. I started talking to this guy and he said he wanted to meet. I hesitated but eventually gave in. We went to dinner and things were going really well until. . . He kept. . . He tried to. . . I said no but he. . ."
"Y/N," he whispered when she didn't finish any of her thoughts. "Did someone try to hurt you?"
Y/N covered her mouth, trying to hide her cries. Keys' heart jumped into his throat when he heard her struggling to hold back her sob.
"Y/N," he said gently. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. But that guy was a jerk. He didn't deserve to meet you and he sure as hell doesn't deserve you."
Y/N held her breath as Keys hesitated. She could tell that he wanted to say more so she waited.
"Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you know that I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you, Y/N. I need you to know that."
"I believe you," she whispered.
She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She knew Keys. And he knew her. Since the day they met, he's been nothing but truthful with her. She's gotten to know everything about him and he has given her no reason not to trust him.
"He forced himself on me."
This was the first time she had told anyone about what happened that night. But she trusted him.
"Y/N," Keys whispered, "you don't have to."
"I want to," she continued shakily. "I trust you and I want to tell you what happened."
"Okay," Keys nodded. "And I want to hear it."
"It started with him touching my knee under the table," Y/N started to shakily explain. "But then he asked if I wanted to go to the bathroom with him. When I refused. . . He tried to drag me. Luckily, our waitress had been watching. When he tried to force me into the bathroom, she got the manager. He ran over, asked if I was alright, and kicked the guy out. He let me stay and told me dinner was on them."
"I'm so sorry," Keys sighed. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "What's his username?"
"Why?" She chuckled.
"Because I'm going to find him and ban his ass from the game."
"Keys," she sighed. "It's okay."
"No," he said through his teeth, "it's not. Guys using the game to hook up with girls is disgusting. It's not the purpose of Free Life. The purpose of the game is to. . ."
Keys cut himself off, stopping himself from continuing on with his rant. He took a shaky breath as he thought about Y/N.
"I'm sorry," he said under his breath. "I just hate that he did that to you."
"He was a horrible guy," she sighed.
"I understand if you don't want to meet."
"I didn't say that I didn't want to meet," she cut him off, her smile finally returning. "Keys, you're nothing like him. I know you won't hurt me."
"So," he hesitated, "you want to meet?"
"Absolutely," Y/N chuckled. "Just name the time and place."
                                * * * * *
Y/N's breath got caught in her throat when they linked eyes. They slowly walked towards each other, their smiles matching. The second they were inches from each other, they stopped.
They wanted to talk but neither one of them knew what to say. Instead of saying anything, Keys did something he's wanted to do since they met online for the second time.
He gently grabbed her face and pressed his lips to hers. Before either one of them could get into the kiss, Keys quickly broke it.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You told me about that guy and. . . I swear I wasn't trying to take advantage of you. I've just wanted to kiss you since our first online date."
"Keys," she gently cut him off. He bit his bottom lip, his cheeks burning. "It's okay."
Y/N stood on her toes and pressed her lips back to his. She felt him smile as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back. When neither one of them could breathe, he broke the kiss.
"You hungry?" He asked.
"I could eat," she shrugged, her face still flushed. He smiled as he reached down and grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. They started to walk towards Keys' car but he stopped them.
"You okay?" She asked. He took a shaky breath before turning towards her.
"I promise that I'm in this," he started. "I'm not using you in any way. I care about you, Y/N, a lot and I want you in my life. I really like you, Y/N. So much so that I think. . . I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I think I fell in love with you."
Y/N stood on her toes and gently pressed her lips to his. He smiled before kissing her back. She broke the kiss and leaned far back enough that she could look into his eyes.
"I think I fell in love with you too."
498 notes · View notes
wri0thesley · 3 years
Note
Well shit. The pet talk has me thinking about turning into a neko because of a curse gone wrong... would you like to write headcanons for the jjk men reacting to their crush befalling that fate? Who'd try to reverse it, who'd want to keep them that way? Who would use the chance to get closer or even turn it into pet play?
ahh to be a neko and be owned by a handsome jjk man.....
warnings: not sfw, afab reader implied, cat/neko hybrid reader, petplay mentions, master/pet dynamics!
♡ —-> below the cut: gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna, mahito <—-  ♡
♡ Gojo probably immediately figures out how to reverse it - but the thing is, right away, he doesn’t much want to. You just look so cute with the neko ears resting on your hair, your hands curled like paws, your tail curling around you so cutely. The light purr in the way you speak, the way your eyes keep contracting as you get distracted by a loose thread on his clothes or the light reflecting off his sunglasses. 
He’s going to take a lot of pictures of you; partly to make fun of you with later, partly because he just can’t help it. You’re adorable! As part-cat now, too, you’ve gotten a lot less good at hiding your affection. Gojo is suddenly being subjected to you batting your head against him, rubbing your face against his to mark him as yours - and he’s not complaining about it at all. 
He will very much use this as an opportunity for petplay. He’s got a bit of a power complex about being the strongest; you being a cute little pet at his knees, all helpless and mewling, is something he didn’t realise he’d want so badly. And you’re so sensitive, when he touches your ears or your tail. He kind of wants to get you a collar, to leave you like this forever - but he’s not going to, because at the heart of it, he’s a good man who wants the best for you.
It won’t stop him bringing this up all of the time afterwards, showing you the pictures, and buying you a cute tail and ear set to wear for him when the two of you are spending some alone time together, though. 
“Aww, kitty - that’s right, smile for the camera - say ‘nya~’!”
- ♡ -
♡ Nanami is more concerned than anything else. His first instinct is to protect you, and his second instinct is to be frustrated with himself for not protecting you thoroughly enough. He takes you back to his place before Gojo or anyone can see you, knowing that most of them won’t let you live this down and preparing to organise things himself. When it turns out Shoko can’t have a look at you until the next day, citing the fact that you’re not in any real danger, Nanami resigns himself to having to spend the night with you in this state. 
He tries to make you a bed in the spare bedroom but you crawl onto his bed anyway, nesting at the foot of it, curling yourself in covers. When he doesn’t pay attention to you, you sigh, rubbing your head against his leg, as if to say ‘well, go ahead, pet me’ - unfortunately, if you want Nanami to do that, you have to open your mouth and ask. He doesn’t want to take advantage of you.
When you finally do ask him with your words, he presses his lips thinly together but he also knows cats - you’re not going to let him rest until he does it. He finds himself soothed by petting your ears, the soft rumble of your throat, the way that his touch seems to make you relax. He hadn’t realised just how comfortable you must be with him. 
Nanami will not do anything to you in this state, even if you try and initiate it - when he gets to take you to bed for the first time, he hopes there will be no cursed nonsense present - just you, and him, and the beating of your hearts. But at least this little experience has given him some courage to push forward with his crush.  
“You really want me to stroke you? Well . . . I suppose I could . . . is this alright?”
- ♡ -
♡ Geto does not want to like the sight of you with your eyes big and wide and cute cat ears on your head and a tail extending from your backside as cute as he does. You’ve always been one of his favourite curse users, and perhaps he’s been nursing a crush on you for longer than he’d like to admit - but this just feels rude. You’re so cute with your head tipped to the side, sticking very close to him, fair brightening up when his hand so much as brushes your arm. 
He does want to fix you, of course - he doesn’t want anything to dull your sharp knife-edges, the cleverness thrumming beneath your skin. He thinks of the people he surrounds himself as family, and you as - as more than that. But he indulges in it for a little too long. Liking to watch your tail swish as you walk, your ears twitch - liking the noise you make when he runs his palm over your face. 
Geto, too, will indulge in a little petplay. How can he not, when you were so obedient and good for him even before this unfortunate occurrence? He soothes you with pets and kisses as you sink onto his cock, calling you his good kitten, asking you to purr for him and groaning when your slightly sharper than usual teeth nip at his neck and you mewl so prettily at the touch of his hands on your spine. 
Out of anyone, Getou is the most likely to tie a ribbon around your new tail and get you a cute collar with a bow and a bell on it. When you’re sat on his lap with his cock inside you, he murmurs softly not to let the bell jingle, be a good pet and stay exactly where he puts you - and for Geto, you’re a very well-behaved pussy-cat, and you do exactly what he asks you.
“Mm, that’s right - good kitten. You feel so right there. You’re such a pretty thing, so well-behaved--”
- ♡ -
♡ Toji should want to do something about this. He hates the idea of all of this cursed energy clinging to you - but he also knows there isn’t much he can do, and he isn’t willing to lower himself to ask for help from anyone who can do anything about it. So, welcome to your new life - you’re Toji’s cute little kitten now. He likes his kitten to lie on his lap, to nest in his bed, to eat off a bowl on the floor and wear their pretty collar--
He likes his kitty to be well-behaved, but honestly, Toji’s treatment whether you are well-behaved or not is much the same. He likes that you’ll sit and listen to him like everything he says is the most important thing in the world - likes that, now you’re his good little housecat, he is the centre of your universe. He’s rough with you no matter what, but you grow to absolutely love that sensation - love digging your claws into his back when he fucks you, love it when he groans ‘good kitty’ into your ear, love it when he stretches out beside you and lets you nuzzle into his chest, purring at him. 
He secretly likes it when you act up a little bit; if you spill your milk or if you purposely ignore him. He loves having an opportunity to tame the brattiness out of his kitten - to tug on your tail a little meanly, to remind you of who exactly you belong to.
“Aww, kittycat-- you’re really pushin’ my buttons today, huh? C’mere - lemme remind you who your owner is--”
- ♡ -
♡ Sukuna . . . if you’ve ended up like this and you’re Sukuna’s object of affection, we can only assume that Sukuna himself is the one to have engineered it. No other curse would dare to touch his property, after all - and if you are Sukuna’s, you are his property. You being a cute little kitty now doesn’t change the fact at all; if anything, it reinforces in Sukuna’s mind that you’re his pet. He owns you. You ought to be on your knees, your head bowed, practically quivering if he deigns to pet you or lavish you in affection--
You will be staying this way.
You’ll be learning exactly how a good pet behaves; how and when to use your tongue, how to respond to your Master’s petting of your ears, how to learn to roll over and present yourself when your Master wants to take you. Heaven help you if you go into heat, kitten - Sukuna’s deeply amused by your whimpering, by the way you keep nuzzling against his thighs and telling him that it hurts, please fill me up, pleasepleaseplease.
If you’ve been very good, he’ll reward you by filling you up fuller than you even realised you could be. If you’ve been very bad, you’ll be sobbing and clawing into his sheets and begging to be touched with your own need streaming down your thighs. Either way, in the end, you’ll be mewling into Sukuna’s kimono with tears on your face from the stretch, secure in the knowledge that you’re owned. 
“A good kitten walks on all fours, hmm? A good kitten obeys their Master. A good kitten knows to do it immediately when I tell them to open their mouth--”
- ♡ -
♡ Mahito wants to find out everything he can about this interesting new development. Chances are, if he has a crush on you, you already know it - subtlety is honestly not one of the curse’s strong points. Chances are, too, if he has a crush on you and you’re still around, you’re okay with is - but this is probably going to push it over the edge. His hands are all over you, petting and tugging on your ears and your tail, probably trying to see how they attach to your skin and laughing when you flinch or blush or a certain rub of his thumb across your tailbone makes a purr thrum in your throat.
He’s telling you how cute you are through it all, laughing - he’s talking earnestly about the way humans keep pets, how he’s always wondered about it, and now he’s had one dropped into his lap, and isn’t that just fortuitous? At first, he wants you to be as much of a pet as you can - on your hands and knees, purring, mewling, the whole nine yards! But once he’s exhausted that option (Mahito’s moods tend to be whimsical and over in a flash before he’s moved onto the next one), he wants to explore your new additions and how doing certain things to you makes them feel. Expect to be fucked from behind by Mahito pulling your tail - expect him, too, to be very interested in the concept of cats going into heat! You’re an endlessly fascinating new toy, until you’re not quite as fascinating--
And then Mahito is shifting his soul to have his own cat ears and tail, to be mess around with you some more and see if your reactions are any different when he’s made himself your cat-boyfriend! Eventually, he’ll get bored of you being part cat and he’ll figure out how to get you back to your normal self on his own, but by then the damage has probably already been done and some part of you is just conditioned - to purr when your head is scratched, to docilely sit at Mahito’s feet and paw at the front of his trousers.
“You’re so cute! Humans like to play with their pets, right? Let’s play, then! Purr for me, koneko-chan~”
-  ♡ -
2K notes · View notes
fruggo · 3 years
Note
I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,
Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?
And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing
oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!
i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request
the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)
warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins
word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)
(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)
𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇
when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.
your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.
the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.
it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.
you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.
it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.
“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.
hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.
“that i am,” he replied.
then it was quiet for a while.
very quiet.
well, what were you supposed to say now?
the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—
it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.
it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.
“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.
you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.
however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.
there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.
despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”
quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”
you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”
“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.
“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”
from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.
he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.
𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘
leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.
most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.
that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.
and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.
you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.
your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.
after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.
he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.
you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.
leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”
“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”
leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.
but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”
begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.
but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.
“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.
the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.
you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.
it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.
but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.
the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?
biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..
but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.
leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.
from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍
you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.
you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.
“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.
“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.
you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.
he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.
steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.
eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.
as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.
“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”
you know, the usual friendly stuff.
you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.
and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.
and that was when the chaos started.
steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.
“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”
steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.
it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.
and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.
after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.
“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.
“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.
“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”
he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”
oh. oh.
realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”
“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”
oh.
huh.
you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.
𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍
to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.
this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.
your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.
sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.
this was very funny to you.
not to him.
while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.
he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.
frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.
the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.
so he threw a rock at you.
it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.
“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.
he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.
you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.
“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.
frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.
“i want a truce,” he said.
you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?
he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(
just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.
“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”
he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”
frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”
“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.
of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.
so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.
when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.
when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”
you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.
he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.
this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.
oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.
and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.
listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm
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