#for like. medication solutions for injection
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girltakovic · 3 months ago
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wonder what it says about me that the only ads i get on this site are for bacteriostatic water
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afeelgoodblog · 3 months ago
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The Best News of Last Year - 2024 Edition
Welcome to our special edition newsletter recapping the best news from the past year. I've picked one highlight from each month to give you a snapshot of 2024. No frills, just straightforward news that mattered. Let's relive the good stuff that made our year shine.
1. January - South Korea passes law banning dog meat trade
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The slaughter and sale of dogs for their meat is to become illegal in South Korea after MPs backed a new law. The legislation, set to come into force by 2027, aims to end the centuries-old practice of humans eating dog meat.
2. February - Greece legalises same-sex marriage
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Greece has become the first Christian Orthodox-majority country to legalise same-sex marriage. Same-sex couples will now also be legally allowed to adopt children after Thursday's 176-76 vote in parliament. Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis said the new law would "boldly abolish a serious inequality".
3. March - Global child deaths reach historic low in 2022 – UN report
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The number of children who died before their fifth birthday has reached a historic low, dropping to 4.9 million in 2022. The report reveals that more children are surviving today than ever before, with the global under-5 mortality rate declining by 51 per cent since 2000.
4. April - Restoring sight is possible now with optogenetics
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Max Hodak's startup, Science, is developing gene therapy solutions to restore vision for individuals with macular degeneration and similar conditions. The Science Eye utilizes optogenetics, injecting opsins into the eye to enhance light sensitivity in retinal cells. Clinical trials and advancements in optogenetics are showing promising results, with the potential to significantly improve vision for those affected by retinal diseases.
5. May - Vaccine breakthrough means no more chasing strains
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Scientists at UC Riverside have demonstrated a new, RNA-based vaccine strategy that is effective against any strain of a virus and can be used safely even by babies or the immunocompromised.
6. June - Bill Gates-backed startup creates Lego-like brick that can store air pollution for centuries
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The Washington Post detailed a "deceptively simple" procedure by Graphyte to store a ton of CO2 for around $100 a ton, a number long considered a milestone for affordably removing carbon dioxide from the air. Direct air capture technologies used in the United States and Iceland cost $600 to $1,200 per ton, per the Post.
7. July - Stem cell therapy cures man with type 2 diabetes
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A 59-year-old man had been suffering from diabetes for 25 years, needing more and more insulin every day to avoid slipping into a diabetic coma and was at risk of death. But then Chinese researchers cured his disease for the first time in the world. The patient received a cell transplant in 2021 and has not taken any medication since 2022.
8. August - Chinese drones will fly trash out of Everest slopes
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Come autumn, Nepal will deploy heavy lifter drones to transport garbage from the 6,812-metre tall Ama Dablam, south of Everest. This will be the first commercial work an unmanned aerial vehicle does in Nepal’s high-altitude zone.
9. November - Tokyo to make day care free to boost birth rate
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Tokyo plans to make day care free for all preschool children starting in September, the city governor has announced as part of efforts to boost Japan's low birth rate.
10. October - FTC Rule Banning Fake Product Reviews Takes Effect With Stiff Penalties
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Federal Trade Commission (FTC) Chair Lina Khan announced on Oct. 21 that the agency’s prohibition on fake online reviews was taking effect, imposing fines as high as $50,000 for violations. Khan encouraged followers to report the proscribed practices at reportfraud.ftc.gov.
11. November - Bumblebee population increases 116 times over in 'remarkable' Scotland rewilding project
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The bumblebee population has made an impressive comeback in a developed area by increasing to 116 times what it was two years ago thanks to a nature restoration group.
12. December - Spain to enshrine gay marriage and abortion rights into its constitution so 'they cannot be undone in the future'
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The left-wing PSOE leader made the announcement at an event marking the 46th anniversary of the Spanish Magna Carta.
“We believe that these are rights that we must protect in the Constitution so that no one can touch them in the future,” Sanchez said in a statement in parliament on Friday.
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That's it for last year :)
This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:
Buy me a coffee ❤️
Also don’t forget to share this post with your friends.
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quarterlifekitty · 5 months ago
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I’m not always one for subverting tropes, but lately I’ve been thinking about being an army medic that’s just not nice.
Like, it doesn’t matter if it’s staples, stitches, or injections— you’re not giving out warnings or countdowns. Want a numbing solution beforehand? You’ve gotta earn it. You’re not inclined to waste time anesthetizing when you could be working. Terrible beside manner. Always telling people to get the fuck out when they’re able to walk on their own. If they pop some stitches? You make em’ wait a bit before putting them back in. Teach them not to waste your time and undo your work by doing stupid shit.
So why do all of the higher ups go to you when there’s other people on medical staff?
Because you’re the best. You get results. Your rate of post-procedure complications is lowest on the base. You have an immaculate workspace and respect sterility much more than patient dignity. You get people back on their feet in record time with no bullshit.
And Soap and Ghost are the absolute masochists that are in love with you. And Price is starting to see what the merit would be in having a private medical officer exclusively for the 141. Gaz? Can’t trust anyone who uses needles on people.
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cheol-e-kat · 3 months ago
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𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒓
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pairing: kim mingyu  / f!reader / choi seungcheol
summary:  y/n thought she was in a normal, healthy relationship with another human until mingyu was forced to turn y/n into a vampire to save her life. 
but when y/n is still upset about all of mingyu's lies, she leaves to find her own way and stumbles into vampire seungcheol along the way. 
y/n is left to chose between a new love and maybe her true love. 
teaser word count: 2.4k [full fic approx. 30k]
genre: vampire au, soulmate au, crack - when soonyoung pretends to be a doctor! (i said crack), smut, kind of found family
rating: 18+, mdni, explicit
warnings below cut
warnings: grief, depression, anxiety, gentle kidnapping, blood, gore, fake death, real death (mc has to die to be turned - sorry - just vampire things), sex, drugs, alcohol, blood consumption (vampires, hello)
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Y/n was depressed. Which everyone kept saying was natural because who wouldn’t be after they had watched their boyfriend be buried - so they were understanding. 
But the problem was Mingyu was (had been) so much more than just Y/n’s boyfriend. They had been dating for two years - they had plans to run away together and live together and make their own life TOGETHER. No one understood what Mingyu had actually meant to Y/n. 
No one understood that her inner grief was tenfold compared to what she let them see. 
She stayed cooped up inside her apartment wearing Mingyu’s hoodies, hoping that his scent would linger until she died - which, according to Jeonghan, wouldn’t be that long if she didn’t stop isolating herself so thoroughly.
And maybe Jeonghan had a point, since she only shifted from her computer to her couch when she was practically falling asleep at her keyboard. She hadn’t gone to class since it happened, or left her apartment for that matter, excluding the funeral. 
Y/n refused to accept what had happened. She didn’t like talking about Mingyu in the past tense. She didn’t think about Mingyu in the past tense. To her, it seemed like maybe Mingyu was just somewhere that, if she tried hard enough, she could reach, and they could be together again.
She had only gone to the funeral because her friends (their friends, she supposed) had dragged her there. She had stared straight ahead - her head swimming with thoughts of how she could fix all of what was happening. She had only paid her respects because she felt forced to, but to her, there had to be a solution - she was determined that Mingyu didn’t have to stay this way.
She did not mention this to anyone else. 
She did not explain that she had been digging into odd-looking message boards - ones where people claimed to have successfully reunited with their loved ones. Mostly because all of these seemed to center around things like Ouija boards and ghosts. Y/n had higher hopes than some knocking on a table. She wanted Mingyu back.
And that was how she found Dr. Kwon Soonyoung - founder of Tiger Life © 
According to one OP’s review, Dr. Kwon had been able to bring life back to the OP’s brother-in-law in under two sessions. 
Another one read, “Dr. Kwon has medical expertise beyond any ‘regular’ doctor - he truly views his patients holistically.” 
And one enthusiastic reviewer reported that “Dr. Kwon saved my life - everyone else was resigned to my quote-unquote ‘death’ but not Dr. Kwon - he never gave up and here I am typing this review!”
It wasn’t so much the reviews that got Y/n’s attention - for all she knew those were from bots - it was the videos showing the actual process. She had looped it trying to figure out if it was fake. 
But everything she saw, from digging up the body to injecting it with something pink from a beaker that caused the person to rouse like they had woken up from a nice, long nap, seemed to check out in her exhausted mind.
And somehow it only cost $499.99 plus gas and snacks, with a preference for gummy candies and chips. 
Y/n watched the other videos as well - there was an interview where Dr. Kwon explained that the ‘life-challenged’ were just in need of a hard ‘reboot’ of their systems and that all were just waiting to be reunited with their lives. 
Dr. Kwon did note that in some cases his patients may have elected to move on fully, but that in 98% of cases, the patients were now restored with their normal energy levels and “everything.”
Y/n watched the videos with tired eyes while she slurped noodles, barely tasting them as they wiggled down her throat and satisfied her grumbling stomach. The more she saw Dr. Kwon, with his glasses and white coat, the more confident she was that it was worth the money. So after a week of not sleeping and watching videos, she finally sent a message to the instagram account provided and waited for a response. 
Waiting really meant that she passed out on her couch - it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable slumber, but Y/n was no longer in a position to argue with her body and its needs, she yielded to sheer exhaustion. 
But apparently during the week that she had been researching Dr. Kwon and his methods, she had ignored Jeonghan a bit too much. Since she was suddenly being woken up from a very restful faceplant by a loud knocking on her door.
She slowly rolled off the couch, landing with a small thud and groaning, swearing that Jeonghan knew her door’s passcode. She stayed on the floor for a bit longer, her eyes not wanting to fully open, her thick eyelashes feeling almost tangled together, but Jeonghan was insistent and LOUD. Y/n roused herself forcefully and went to fling the door open.
Jeonghan, pale and slender and dressed to kill in his all-black ensemble, lifted his oversized sunglasses to stare daggers at Y/n, “You look terrible,” he deadpanned with a smile that tugged the corners of his lips, “Can I come in already or do I have to stand on the doorstep like some sad person delivering food?” he demanded softly.
Y/n sighed, “Yeah, come in, I guess,” and let Jeonghan pass.
She wasn’t exactly thrilled to have Jeonghan there. Because with Jeonghan there, she was suddenly very aware that she hadn’t showered in a few days and was unquestionably gross. 
She was also uncomfortably aware of every single greasy hair on her head because she was sure that Jeonghan was examining them as well. She felt like a child who had been left to their own devices compared to Jeonghan whom she had never seen with a hair out of place.
Jeonghan poked around Y/n’s desk, examining the haphazardly stacked dirty dishes with a slender finger that seemed to be declaring everything as ‘ick,’ “How have you been?” his voice was kinder than she expected.
She blushed, “Fine,” she didn’t want to say that she had definitely spent $500 on something that was maybe a grift.
Jeonghan nodded, “You seem like you’re still missing him,” Jeonghan seemed to be talking to himself more than to Y/n.
She shrugged, “No, I – uhh, I’m fine now,” she stammered - even if Dr. Kwon was a grifter, she would give it a chance.
 What was the worst case anyway - she dug up a dead body, she wondered to herself if that was the worst part. She had no idea what a body would look like after being buried for a week or so, actually she wasn’t sure how long it had been anymore, but not so long, she was fairly certain. But maybe it was more like a month, but only if she actually gave it some thought and counted the days.
She barely noticed that Jeonghan was suddenly in front of her until Jeonghan touched her cheek, “Who is Dr. Kwon?” he asked gently.
She shrugged, certain she hadn’t mentioned the name aloud, or at all, and avoided eye contact when she responded, “I don’t know,” she sounded almost confident.
And Jeonghan pinched her cheek lightly and sighed, “It’s funny when you lie to me and think I don’t know,” he sighed again, this time it was more pronounced and dramatic, “Oh well, I guess we will just have to meet the doctor together,” he announced and flopped onto the sofa. He gazed at her, daring her to contradict what he had just declared.
She bit her lip gently and shrugged, “If you say so,” she wasn’t in the mood for Jeonghan’s games, “I’m going to shower,” she muttered. She could have sworn she heard a small ‘thank you’ from Jeonghan but wasn’t sure and wasn’t going to check either.
Y/n was happy to shower - she hadn’t realized how grimy she had felt until she wasn’t. And now she could lie in her bed and bury her face in the pillow Mingyu had once used while she stared at her dms waiting for a response. 
She could hear low sounds from the tv - she had just assumed that Jeonghan was staying by the way he had parked himself on the sofa. There was something comforting about it though. She really had been very alone the last however many days or weeks. She nuzzled into the pillow that still held Mingyu’s balsamy scent and was quickly asleep. 
── .✦
Y/n had been used to her weird dreams since she was young - they were usually pleasant, maybe a bit too real, but since she had met Mingyu whenever she woke up from one there was someone there to cuddle her and assure her that she was okay. 
Now she sat up, rubbing her face, and remembered she was alone again - there was no one to tell her that the weird dream about Mingyu floating in the air above her with hungry red eyes was fake. 
She could have cried, but then Jeonghan would have probably heard her and had some snarky comment to make. She fell back onto the bed and chewed her lip. She stayed motionless, letting the sadness wash over her and then recede like the tide. She hated that even in her dreams Mingyu had become something macabre. 
Even as her feelings ebbed, she felt her phone vibrate with some new notification. She blinked and checked to see that it was an instagram notification. She was quick to unlock her phone and read the message from Dr. Kwon replying that he thought Y/n’s case was one that warranted review and suggested that they meet that night. 
She responded without hesitation, wanting to be sure that she met Dr. Kwon as soon as possible. She waited excitedly for confirmation. And she grinned stupidly when it came through - a message providing an address for a small tea shop and a request for payment only once she was satisfied with the results of the procedure. Y/n chewed her lower lip softly - if this were a grift, at least it wasn’t an obvious one, she supposed.
She got up and dressed in something she didn’t mind going out in. And walking out of her room, she was feeling a bit excited for once since everything had changed - she had almost forgotten Jeonghan completely until he piped up, “Heading out, Y/n?” 
Y/n’s head spun to look at Jeonghan, who was lounging on the sofa with some baking show playing in the background – his eyes were closed, giving the impression he was napping. 
She stared for a moment, her blood feeling a bit icy in her veins because it reminded her of the way Mingyu always seemed to know when she got out of bed (or into it) - he would seem fast asleep, but he was also keenly attuned to any little movement from Y/n. She wasn’t sure why it would make her uncomfortable now - probably because it was coming from Jeonghan and not Mingyu, she guessed. She knew Mingyu cared, at least.
Jeonghan sighed and stood up, stretching nonchalantly, “I assume we are going to see the mysterious Dr. Kwon?” he almost sounded chipper, which was a strange development.
Y/n shrugged off the feeling, “Uh, I’m just going out,” she tried.
Jeonghan tutted, “You aren’t getting rid of me so easily, Y/n, I’m an old hand at all of this - you just need to accept that certain things come along with dating Kim Mingyu,” he had already rounded the sofa and was next to Y/n, looping his arm through hers and steering them towards the door.
It was a strange turn of phrase that Y/n played over in her mind as they sat in the back of a taxi ‘certain things come along with dating Kim Mingyu,’ but what did that mean, she wondered, and more to the point why would Jeonghan say it to her - it was another of those annoying things that somehow reminded her of Mingyu’s mannerisms but was also starkly different. 
Mingyu was good at anticipating certain things - things that Y/n generally had to blatantly ask for from past partners, Mingyu always seemed to just understand. But that understanding felt natural between them, innate even. 
From Jeonghan, it made Y/n’s skin crawl and she attempted to sit as far away from the other as she could in a cramped taxi. Especially since Jeonghan’s comment had to do with her very dead boyfriend. 
Y/n stared out the cab’s window, watching the slow drizzle of rain and fog commingle as they wound their way to the ancient tea shop. It was in an older part of the city. To her, it certainly had the vibes of a place you would meet someone who was capable of reanimating the dead. 
Jeonghan took care of the cab while she went into the shop. There was only one table that was occupied. Y/n immediately recognized the man from Youtube - it was really him, Dr. Kwon Soonyoung.
He glanced up and smiled warmly, “You must be Y/n,” his voice was welcoming, as he stood from his seat and gestured for her to join him. 
She sat and, again, found herself being startled by Jeonghan’s sudden appearance at her side. It was a bit annoying to feel like she had a chaperone. Still, she wanted to know what Dr. Kwon had to say. 
She accepted tea from the pot - which, in hind sight, was maybe her worst decision. Because before they could really even talk, she had started to feel groggy. Her vision swam a bit, and her head began to ache horribly. 
Her vision blurred at the edges. And soon, she realized she was being taken by Jeonghan and Dr. Kwon, who Jeonghan seemed to know fairly well, since he kept calling him ‘Soonie’, out the back of the shop.
She tried to cry for help but there was no sound, nor did there seem to be anyone to even hear her. She noticed as they carried her out how decrepit the building looked - it looked on the verge of being condemned more than anything. How had it seemed so warm and inviting at first, she wondered in her haze.
She had no idea where they were taking her, but they put her in the back of a large black car. The last thing she saw was Jeonghan, leaning over her to buckle her in and pat her head, “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you, even if Soonyoung has crackpot ideas,” he smiled in a way that only made Y/n whimper. 
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this should be fun and messy ^^ also don't come at me about tags - this is a teaser for a fic that meets fluff, smut, and angst - but the beginning is def crack
@gyupappi - just a teaser, but vampire mingyu needs more than a one shot (and vampire cheol...and hosh as a grift doc on insta hehehe) kissesss
♡ kat
♡ my [master list] if you want to read more
♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts or for this fic, go [here] - or just follow
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[ taglist ] ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎
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drjae69 · 23 days ago
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INPATIENT CARE
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When your Dominatrix said she had something in mind you didn’t have this in mind particularly . The moment she picked you up at your apartment lobby, and once you got in her car, your fate was sealed . Once your seatbelt was buckled, she hit you with the chloroform and you were out fast . Between bouts of consciousness she put you on a stretcher and brought you into her clinic lair and that was about the last time you saw the outside. By the time you woke she had already set you up . Restrained and on oxygen and nitrous she had you just right and helpless . All you could do was lifelessly stare at her ceiling and accept it . She confessed that she lied to you to lure you here on false pretenses as you fit all her criteria for a permanent medical slave as her last one was no longer up the task and was her toilet now. The first thing she was going to do was going to be permanent . Already had prepped you she cleaned your scrotum already freshly shaved by you . She coded it with local anesthetic and waited until it was numb . She then introduced a muscle relaxer into your IV trip. Once she was ready and gloved she operated . She slowly methodically cut open your scrotum and extracting one testicle at a time before slicing it off the vas . Holding them in your hands she showed you her work before putting them in the biohazard bin before stitching you up. Enough trauma for one day she let you rest putting you back to sleep as tomorrow was going to be the first day of your new life as an medical slave .
She woke you the LED light always on she cleaned you before putting your mask back on and feeding you, IVs . You tried, but only could mumble at her as she had injected your vocal cords with solution . All you could do was groan and moan at her . After breakfast should be returned at attaching electrodes to you and slowly proceeded to increasing the voltage of every shock flinching with the hit . With every incremental jump, she got a bigger reaction from you . It reached a point where only she heard was agonizing moans where she stopped for a time  before returning to it . Still raw from surgery the shocks were unbearable but tightly bound restraints kept you stationary as she climbed . She then sounded you as she did it three reactions be becoming more visible and pained . That was just your first day. The next she gave you moops (man boobs) with saline and added needles to your nipples. Then the next she tenderize you on the freshly cut scrotum. Other times she humiliated you as your penis, shriveled, and atrophied due to hormonal starvation . At some times she brought other more broken and abused slave than you had been most docility following her commands to the letter . They sucked on your toes like royalty and suck you off when commanded all the wild expressionless .
With enough time passing, you realized that hell was real and you were in it . Eventually, she would see to it that you wouldn’t realize it after all the times tenderizing and abusing she had finally wanted to test a new procedure on you . Bringing an old-fashioned kit with a ice pic and ball pen hammer you know exactly what she was planning . She then again gave you muscle relaxers and local anesthetic before placing the pig through your eye socket and up against your gray matter before gently tapping it a few times . From that point on you were just like the other traumatized things in her charge, barely even a person anymore you could only lay in your bed as she played with you, your cock never erected again and only flaccid . You forgot your old name sometimes you were a sissy other times a pet and worse, a toilet . But you are always at the end of the day a slave. 

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blackenedsnow · 8 months ago
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I have the creepiest idea If you like idk.
If you've watched Demon Slayer, you might know the kocho shinobu, and whatever I say, she is constantly medicating/poison herself after the death of her older sister so I thought about this so here it goes.
After Shadow was created for Maria,Reader was was created by Professor Gerald, but after Maria's death, they both went into depression, but all she wanted was revenge, she wanted to kill the person..who had planned to kill her she had to kill them..with her own hands or..body..? She had only one idea. She had no choice. She was injecting poison into her own body every day like 37kg could kill which can kill around 1000+ humans if she got shot or killed yk what I mean, and she went on tirelessly. She blocks every emotion away and keeps her smile while her eyes are empty since maria liked her smile she always smiled and blocked all the emotions.
One day she was injecting poison into his body again, but she had promised shadow and sonic were going on a trip together, but while she was injecting the poison, she was constantly crying in pain but she closed her mouth but she fall to the floor (it happens everytime when she does that) the two wondered got worried and opened the door at once, they were shocked and terrified by the sight of their beloved sister lying on the floor with..poison syringe in her hand.
What would they do..? Will she continue until she got revenge or they will stop her? (Song or anything recommend to listen make it more creepy:the lobotomy)
Have a nice day.
toxic salvation
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WARNING: Self-harm (poison injections) depression, death and grief, emotional trauma, hurt/comfort, angst with a glimmer of hope
PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog & (Fem) Reader, Sonic the Hedgehog & (Fem) Reader
NOTE: I love the idea! It’s dark and intense. I haven’t watched Demon Slayer, but I’m definitely up for the challenge. As always, feel free to send as many requests as you’d like! Also, thank you for the song.
SUMMARY: After Maria’s death, all you want is revenge, even if it means destroying yourself with deadly poison. When Shadow and Sonic discover your dangerous secret, they’re determined to stop you before you lose yourself completely.
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You had been created with one purpose—to be a companion for Maria, just like Shadow. The three of you were meant to be family. But when Maria was killed, something inside you broke. The light you once carried, the joy of being by her side, was snuffed out in an instant, leaving you with nothing but an empty shell and a searing hatred.
Maria had always admired your smile, and so you smiled. But that was all it was—an empty expression, masking the gnawing rage that consumed you. You couldn’t simply mourn. You needed revenge. You needed to make them pay.
The poison was your solution. You knew you didn’t have the raw power that Shadow did. You couldn’t fight like Sonic. But you could turn your own body into a weapon—a lethal trap, a ticking time bomb. Every day, you injected more poison into yourself, quietly building up a dose that could kill thousands. If they ever struck you down, it would be their last mistake.
But the poison came at a price. Your body weakened, your muscles ached, and the constant pain was unbearable. Still, you carried on, day after day, injecting the venom into your veins. Each time, you collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down your face, but you kept quiet, biting back the agony. You couldn’t let anyone find out. They wouldn’t understand. This was your burden to bear alone.
You had promised Shadow and Sonic that you would join them for a trip that day. It was supposed to be a rare moment of peace, a break from the constant tension. But as the time to leave drew closer, you found yourself unable to move, paralyzed by the familiar burning sensation coursing through your body.
You were alone in the small, sterile room you’d claimed as your own. The syringe was still clutched in your trembling hand, its needle gleaming in the dim light. Tears blurred your vision as you pressed the plunger, releasing another dose of venom into your veins. The pain hit you immediately—sharp, excruciating, and unrelenting.
You fell to the floor, gasping silently for air. You had no strength left to cry out, so you bit your lip, suppressing the sobs that threatened to escape. You had done this a hundred times, maybe more. But this time, it felt worse. Your body was rejecting it, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, your vision blackening at the edges.
But still, you smiled. The way Maria had always liked.
The syringe in your hand slipped from your grip, clattering onto the cold floor, the faint metallic sound echoing in the room. The venom had done its work, the familiar burn spreading through your veins, a bitter reminder of the choice you made every day.
You promised them you'd go on this trip, promised that things would be normal today. But here you were again, falling into the same cycle, trapped in this twisted routine of self-destruction. The tears rolled down your face, silent as always. The pain was sharp and relentless, but you refused to scream. Maria had loved your smile, after all. She never wanted to see you cry.
Your body gave out beneath you, knees buckling as you crumpled to the floor, limbs heavy, vision blurring. You felt the cold bite of the floor against your skin, but it was distant, far away, like the rest of the world. The only thing that mattered now was the poison in your veins, the growing numbness that followed.
It had always been this way. The agony came first, sharp and violent, and then, slowly, the numbness would set in, blanketing everything in cold indifference. You’d gotten used to it by now—this was your life. Every injection brought you closer to your goal, and each time, you felt a little less alive.
Meanwhile, Shadow and Sonic were waiting for you just outside. Mainly Sonic had been preparing for a small trip, something to help take everyones mind off everything. It wasn’t often you all got to relax, but today was supposed to be different.
“Where is she?” Sonic asked, pacing back and forth. “She said she’d be ready by now, right?”
Shadow, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glanced at the door to your room. “She’s probably still getting ready. Give her a minute.”
But Sonic wasn’t convinced. “You sure? I mean, she’s been acting kinda off lately, y’know?”
Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Sonic said, frowning. “She’s been… quiet. I mean, more than usual. Like, something’s wrong, but she won’t talk about it. I just get this feeling…”
Shadow’s expression remained impassive, but Sonic’s words struck a chord with him. He had noticed it too. You had been a lot more distant lately, your usual warmth replaced by a cold, almost mechanical detachment. You smiled, but it never reached your eyes. And there were times when Shadow caught you staring off into space, lost in your own thoughts, your expression hollow.
Before Shadow could respond, a loud thud came from inside your room.
Both of them froze.
“What was that?” Sonic asked, his voice suddenly tense.
Shadow was already moving, pushing past Sonic and heading straight for your door. “Something’s wrong.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Grabbing the handle, he swung the door open with enough force to rattle the frame. The sight that greeted him was worse than anything he had imagined.
You were lying on the floor, motionless, a syringe lying just inches away from your limp hand. Your face was pale, your body trembling as you struggled to breathe. There were tears in your eyes, but your lips were curled into that same, empty smile.
“(Y/N)!” Sonic shouted, rushing to your side. He dropped to his knees beside you, his eyes wide with panic. “What happened?”
Shadow stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, his mind reeling. The sight of the syringe, the state you were in—it all clicked together in an instant, and a cold wave of dread washed over him. His crimson eyes darkened as he stormed forward, kneeling beside you. He grabbed the syringe, inspecting it for a brief moment before realization hit him.
“You’re injecting yourself with poison…” Shadow’s voice was low, dangerous, barely containing his anger. His hand gripped the syringe so tightly, it cracked.
“Why…?” Sonic’s voice was soft now, barely above a whisper. He was still trying to process what he was seeing, his heart pounding in his chest. “(Y/N), why would you…?”
You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Your body felt like it was shutting down, the poison taking its toll on you. You hadn’t meant for them to find out like this. Not yet. Not until you were ready.
“I… have to…” you rasped, your voice weak and broken. “For Maria…”
Sonic shook his head. “Maria? What are you talking about? This isn’t… this isn’t what Maria would want!"
He looked to Shadow for validation, in which he nodded. "She wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself like this!” Sonic continued.
You coughed, the sound harsh and painful in your throat. “I need to… kill him…”
“Kill who?!” Sonic’s voice was frantic now, desperate. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. “Who are you trying to kill?!”
Shadow already knew. He didn’t need you to explain. His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re trying to get revenge,” he said, his voice cold and steady. “You’re doing this to yourself to become a weapon. Is that it?”
You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. The look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.
Sonic’s gaze darted between you and Shadow, his confusion growing. “Revenge? On who? What’s going on here?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Shadow growled, cutting him off. He looked down at you, his expression hard. “What matters is that she’s killing herself. She’s been poisoning herself to the point of death, and for what? Some misguided sense of revenge?”
Sonic’s face paled as the realization sank in. “No… no, (Y/N), you can’t do this. We can help you. This—this isn’t the way..”
But you weren’t listening. You couldn’t. The poison was numbing everything, your body growing colder by the second. Your vision blurred, and for a moment, you thought you saw Maria standing there in the doorway, smiling at you like she used to.
“I’m… sorry…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I… I just want to make things right…”
“You’re not making anything right,” Shadow snapped, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. “You’re throwing your life away! Maria wouldn’t want this—she would never want this!”
Sonic placed his hand on your head, his voice trembling with emotion. “Please, (Y/N)… don’t do this. We can fix this. We can make it better, but you have to stop…”
But the weight of their words was lost on you. All you could think about was Maria—her death, her smile, the way she had been ripped away from you so suddenly. The only thing that had kept you going was the thought of avenging her. And now, they were asking you to let that go.
“I can’t… stop…” you gasped, your body convulsing as another wave of pain hit you. “I can’t…”
Shadow’s grip on you tightened. “You don’t have a choice. You’re not dying. Not like this.”
Without another word, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you out of the room with Sonic right behind him. His mind raced with a thousand different thoughts, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t going to lose you. Not like he had lost Maria.
Shadow carried you, his mind a whirlwind of chaos. His grip on you was firm, yet gentle, as if he feared that you might slip away entirely. Sonic jogged beside him, his face a mix of concern and urgency, but not the frantic panic he had shown earlier.
Sonic had seen enough crises in his life to know that freaking out wouldn’t help now. Instead, he tried to stay level-headed, even though seeing you in such a fragile state was like a punch to the gut. He was used to quick solutions, running toward danger and fixing things fast, but this wasn’t something he could outrun.
“Shadow, we’ve gotta take her to a hospital!” Sonic said, his voice carrying a sense of urgency but tempered with reason. “She needs real help—this is way beyond us.”
“No.” Shadow’s voice was cold, final. He didn’t even look at Sonic, his focus entirely on you. “We’re not taking her there.”
Sonic skidded to a halt, staring at him. “Are you crazy?! She’s been poisoning herself—she needs to be stabilized!”
Shadow paused, his face unreadable, but his eyes betrayed the deep uncertainty brewing beneath the surface. For the first time in a long while, Shadow didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t the physical state of your body that scared him; it was the complete surrender in your eyes, the look that reminded him of everything he had lost.
“Do you think a hospital can fix this?” Shadow’s voice was low, his gaze dark as he looked down at you. “They can treat her body, but not her mind.”
Sonic’s fists clenched. He wanted to argue, to shout that anything was better than watching you waste away like this, but the hard truth of Shadow’s words sank in. This wasn’t just about treating poison—it was about everything leading up to it. The grief, the pain, the revenge that was eating away at you from the inside.
“So what then?” Sonic asked, his voice quieter now, though still full of determination. “We can’t just sit around and do nothing.”
Shadow’s silence stretched on, and for a moment, Sonic thought that was exactly what he intended. But then, after a long, agonizing pause, Sonic’s eyes lit up with realization.
“Tails,” he said, his voice soft at first, but gaining strength as the idea formed in his mind. “We need to take her to Tails. He’ll know what to do. He’s smart, and he can help without all the questions.”
Shadow blinked, then nodded. Tails was their best bet. The fox was brilliant, and more importantly, he wouldn’t ask too many questions. At least, not the ones that mattered. It wasn’t about explaining everything right now; it was about keeping you alive and giving you a chance to heal—however long that would take.
The trip to Tails’ workshop was tense. Shadow’s usual confidence was fractured, his steps slow and deliberate, as if each one was measured to keep you safe. Sonic tried to keep pace, but his mind was racing. How had things gotten this bad without them noticing? They were supposed to be your friend—supposed to protect you.
When they arrived, Tails was in the middle of fine-tuning one of his gadgets. The moment he saw Sonic and Shadow carrying you, his eyes widened with concern. He didn’t ask any immediate questions, but the sight of you, pale and weak, sent a jolt of worry through him.
“Tails,” Sonic started, his voice unusually serious, “we need your help. She’s… been hurting herself.”
Tails’ eyes flicked to Shadow, searching for confirmation, but Shadow’s face was an unreadable mask. Without another word, Tails motioned for them to bring you inside, setting up his equipment quickly.
“I’ll need to stabilize her first,” Tails said, his voice steady but concerned. “Whatever she’s been using, it’s in her bloodstream. We need to clear it out.”
As Tails worked, Sonic paced restlessly, glancing at you every few seconds. He had questions, but they could wait. Right now, getting you stable was the priority. Shadow stood motionless, his arms crossed, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable. His eyes never left you, and for a moment, Sonic saw something unfamiliar in them—helplessness.
Tails worked quietly, efficiently, using his equipment to begin neutralizing the toxins in your body. Sonic finally spoke after what felt like hours of silence. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
Tails glanced up briefly, his brow furrowed. “Physically? She’ll recover, but… emotionally? That’s something only time can heal.”
Sonic swallowed hard. “Yeah. I figured.”
Shadow remained silent. He didn’t need to ask about recovery. He knew better than anyone that some wounds never fully healed, especially the ones tied to grief. He had carried Maria’s death with him for years, and no amount of time had ever filled the void she left behind. But unlike you, he didn’t let the death of Maria haunt him anymore. He doesn’t want to be stuck in the past anymore.
As Tails finished the procedure, you began to stir, your eyes slowly opening. You felt heavy, disoriented, but alive. The poison’s hold on you had weakened, but the hollow ache inside remained, deeper than ever.
Sonic was at your side in an instant, his expression filled with relief but tinged with worry. “Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
You blinked slowly, your mind still clouded by the haze of everything that had happened. “I… don’t know.”
Shadow moved closer, his voice firm but not unkind. “You almost killed yourself.”
Your breath hitched at his blunt words, and for a moment, the weight of what you had done crashed down on you. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced them back. Crying wouldn’t bring Maria back. It wouldn’t change anything.
“I had to…” you whispered, your voice shaky. “For Maria…”
Sonic’s face softened, and he knelt beside you, his usual cheerfulness tempered by the seriousness of the situation. “Look, I get it. You miss her. But this? Hurting yourself like this? It’s not right. It won’t change anything.”
You looked away, your heart aching. “I don’t know what else to do. It’s the only way I can make things right.”
Shadow’s voice cut through the silence, dark and full of the same pain you carried. “Revenge won’t bring her back.”
You looked up at him, surprised by the raw emotion in his eyes. Shadow rarely spoke about Maria, but you knew he understood the weight of loss better than anyone. He was living proof of what grief could do to someone, and in that moment, you realized he had never truly healed from it either.
“I know,” you whispered. “But I can’t stop feeling like… like I failed her.”
Sonic placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice softer now. “We’ve all lost people. We’ve all been through stuff that’s hard to move on from. But you have us. We care for you… a lot.”
Shadow didn’t speak, but his silence was telling. He knew the struggle of trying to move on when a part of you was stuck in the past. He wasn’t here to offer easy answers because there weren’t any. Maria’s death had left a scar on him that would never fully heal, and though he had learned to live with it, that part of him was gone forever.
But he was still here. And so were you.
You sat in silence for a long moment, feeling the weight of everything settle in your chest. The grief, the pain, the anger—they were all still there, but for the first time, you realized that maybe you didn’t have to face them alone.
Tails, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “You’re going to need time to heal. And we’ll be here to help you through it.”
You nodded, though you knew healing wouldn’t come easily. The path ahead was uncertain, but you weren’t alone. Sonic’s optimism, Shadow’s quiet strength, and even Tails’ support—it was enough to keep you grounded.
As the hours passed, you realized that your grief for Maria would never fully go away. It would always be a part of you, just as it was a part of Shadow. But you can’t let it consume you. You could heal, slowly, piece by piece, with the support of those around you.
You weren’t sure how long it would take, but you knew now that healing was possible. You had people who cared about you, who wouldn’t let you fall back into the same darkness.
You could learn to live again.
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megpricephotography · 6 months ago
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It's so tough watching dogs get older... Flynn's had to start a new medication today & oh boy, I'm stressing out about it - hopefully unnecessarily! More under the cut - discussions of blood tests, urine samples, kidney issues, medication...
*UPDATE* 20th Dec also under the cut!!
Longtime followers may remember Flynnie only has 1 kidney. The other one was removed when he was 2.5 yrs old but it'd been effectively non-functional from when he was around 5 months old (due to an abscess forming in it). So for the vast majority of his life, Flynn's had 1 functioning kidney & it's worked like a champ! But. At 11.5 years old, age is perhaps catching up with him. Flynn's last blood test was done a couple of weeks ago & overall, his kidney function is, to use the vet's description: "great". However... for over a year now, we've been monitoring an issue with Flynn's urine. He has protein in his pee & that's not great - it means the fine structures in his kidney aren't filtering properly & as this issue continues, it will inevitably cause kidney damage. So, while Flynn does not currently have "chronic kidney disease"... it's a concern, particularly given at best his kidney function is 50% of a normal dog.
Unfortunately, Flynn's UPC level (the measurement of protein in urine) has risen recently. Not scarily high but vets feel drugs are now needed - especially as, although bloods were generally good, Flynn's blood albumin level (protein in the blood) was really quite low - indicating the loss in his urine is having an impact. He's already on a renal diet, so trying meds is the next step.
Anyway, the drugs are ACE-inhibitors - same stuff as humans take for high BP. The hope is they'll lower blood pressure in the kidney & that will help reduce protein loss. Sadly, meds won't fix the problem 100%, the aim is just to slow things down. I do think starting Flynn on the meds is for the best but I'm stressed because there's a small chance it could actually make things worse. Very occasionally dogs don't react well to ACE-inhibitors & the meds actually cause kidney damage. I'm going to monitor him closely & he'll be having bloods/urine rechecked in a couple of weeks but it's scary! Also... we've had to stop giving Flynn regular NSAIDs for his arthritis pain. He can take paracetamol (tylenol) but regularly combining ACE-inhibitors with NSAIDs increases risk of kidney damage. Once he's hopefully stable on the ACE-inhibitors, I'll ask about trying alternative painkillers - but I don't want to start him on multiple drugs at once. It's tough trying to juggle multiple different factors! I'm aware I'm more twitchy than I used to be about all this because in May 2023, Flynn had an appalling reaction to Librela (actually, that was when we picked up on the issue with his pee). Librela is a new-ish medication & usually a safe way to treat arthritic pain in dogs. It's given as a monthly injection. Flynn had 1 dose & unfortunately, it made him very sick. His bloods were checked a week prior & everything looked good - but within days of the injection, his kidney, liver & pancreas were struggling & he suffered kidney disease type symptoms. Luckily, everything - except the high protein in his urine - fully resolved within 2-3 months but the entire ordeal was awful & logical or not, I felt so guilty about it. I do not want to go through that again!
Anyway, if you've made it this far - thank you! I just needed to write my thoughts down really! For now all I can do is monitor Flynn until he has his next blood test, hope the ACE-inhibitors work well & help his kidney stay relatively healthy & that we can then also find a safe, effective way to keep him physically comfortable for a long time to come. It's just hard because there are no perfect solutions...
*THE UPDATE* Soo… Flynn's been on the new ACE-inhibitor for about 2.5 weeks now. He went in for a blood test on Tuesday & we also checked his urine this week. I got the results today (Dec 20th)… Good news is that his blood work is OK & his worryingly low blood protein level has risen. However… we started him on the new meds specifically to LOWER the amount of protein in his urine & unfortunately, his UPC level has actually gone UP!!! It's higher than ever… It's possible this is a blip, or the meds haven't had time to improve this issue but very occasionally, dogs react badly to it & it can actually reduce kidney function (& increase protein in urine) instead of helping. Anyway, physically, Flynn seems to feeling alright in himself, so that's something. He's actually coping very well off the NSAIDs - paracetamol/tylenol is keeping him comfortable enough. We've been told to carry on with the ACE-inhibitors for now & Flynn's got to go have his blood pressure checked on Dec 30th & I will request they check his pee again then. Guess if he's got worse, we may need to change the type of meds he takes at that point. I am just so stressed - really hoping things have improved by the time we go back to the vets!Gah!!! Pets… why do they get problems over the holidays?!! Think good thoughts for Flynnie!
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charmedreincarnation · 1 year ago
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Let me share you some examples of people outside of a spiritual realm using the law of consciousness. Reading about placebo opened my eyes to realize whether I believe it or not, use it or not, it is always operating.
1. During wartime, particularly in World War II, when medical supplies were limited, the use of a saline solution as a placebo became prevalent. One notable figure associated with this practice is Henry Beecher, a medic during the war. When morphine, a powerful painkiller, was scarce, Beecher resorted to injecting injured soldiers with a saline solution (a mixture of salt and water) as a substitute.The fascinating observation was that many soldiers responded positively to the saline placebo, reporting a reduction in pain. Beecher’s experience led him to further investigate what is now known as the placebo effect. He discovered that even inert substances like saline could elicit a therapeutic response in individuals, highlighting the power of belief and the mind’s influence on healing. Using saline as a placebo during wartime was a practical solution to address the scarcity of medical resources. It allowed healthcare providers to provide some form of treatment while conserving limited supplies for critical cases. The phenomenon observed in these wartime placebo administrations contributed to our understanding of the placebo effect and its role in medical practices.
2. And then there was another placebo test done with surgeries demonstrated the power of the placebo effect in the context of surgical interventions for knee pain.
The study, often referred to as the “fake leg surgery” study, focused on patients with osteoarthritis in the knee. Participants were randomly assigned to either receive real arthroscopic surgery or undergo a sham procedure where no actual surgical intervention took place. The sham surgery involved making small incisions and mimicking the actions and sounds associated with the actual procedure.The surprising finding was that both groups, those who underwent real surgery and those who had the sham surgery, reported similar improvements in their knee pain and functionality. This suggested that the positive outcomes experienced by the participants were not necessarily due to the physical intervention but rather to psychological factors such as the placebo effect.
3. The most fascinating one was this one: The study aimed to explore the role of mindset in reversing some aspects of aging.
In this experiment, Langer and her team created a simulated environment reminiscent of the 1950s to immerse a group of elderly participants. The participants were instructed to act as though they were 20 years younger and encouraged to engage in activities that required physical and mental activity. It aimed to create an atmosphere where the participants felt as if they were stepping back in time.The results of the experiment were described as astonishing. Participants reportedly experienced improvements in various areas, including physical health, cognition, and overall well-being. The study suggested that by changing one’s mindset and engaging in an environment that challenges typical aging stereotypes, individuals may experience positive effects on various aspects of their lives.
4. The Man Who Overdosed on Placebo" is a story about a 26-year-old man, often referred to as "Mr. A," who was part of a clinical trial for an antidepressant drug. In a desperate state of mind, he attempted suicide by ingesting 29 capsules of what he believed to be the experimental drug. This act was triggered by his depression, which had worsened after a breakup with his girlfriend.
However, unbeknownst to him, the pills he had taken were not the actual antidepressant, but rather placebos - essentially inert substances, often sugar pills, used in clinical trials as a control group. Despite this, Mr. A's vitals showed alarming signs similar to those of a drug overdose, reflecting the power of belief over the physical body, a phenomenon known as the "nocebo effect."
The nocebo effect is essentially the evil twin of the placebo effect. While the placebo effect can lead to improvements in health due to positive expectations, the nocebo effect can cause negative symptoms or even exacerbate existing ones due to negative expectations. In this case, Mr. A exhibited symptoms of an overdose solely because he believed he had taken an overdose.
5. Sam Londe, is one of the best but sad classic example of the nocebo effect, as detailed in Dr. Joe Dispenza's book "You Are the Placebo."
Sam Londe was diagnosed with esophageal cancer, a condition known for its grim prognosis. His doctors informed him that he didn't have much time left to live. Accepting this diagnosis, Londe quickly became bedridden and his health deteriorated rapidly, following the trajectory his doctors had predicted.However, upon his death, an autopsy revealed a surprising fact: there was not enough cancer in his body to have caused his death. The small tumor in his esophagus was not large enough or in a position to interfere with his swallowing or breathing. Essentially, Londe didn't die from cancer; he died from believing he was dying of cancer.
This case demonstrates the power of the mind over the body, both positively (the placebo effect) and negatively (the nocebo effect). In this case, Londe's negative beliefs about his prognosis led to physical symptoms and ultimately his death.
I've seen dozens of examples where of stuff like this particularly in the realms of hexing and witchcraft. Honestly, the same could probably be said about subliminals. But it doesn't matter much.Why? Because they work. It's all about observation and choice. You could say it’s the mind but the mind operates on logic. This goes beyond the mind and to your true being, what observes the mind observing the pain in the first place.
Actually I was talking to someone who had been struggling with shifting for a while about this and it really resonated with her which is why I decided to share it. She took a water bottle, labeled it shifting juice and just assumed that when she finishes the bottle she has “full access to shifting powers” is that how it works. Nope. Did she shift after two years of struggling. Yep. It doesn’t matter what story you create yourself whether you want to use logic or not whatever you assume and persist in and know as a fact will harden into truth and therefore reality.I just wanted to share this story bc I find it absolutely hilarious how we sometimes take it so seriously yet it can be so easy. I know placebo is just an assumption. It’s like when you tell children you checked under their bed for the monsters and drafted them and they assume so so they can sleep soundly at night. Call it whatever you want assumption, placebo, it’s all just words and each community calls it something different but at the end of the day it works wether you know the truth behind it or not.
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aniharas · 1 year ago
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𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥
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pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
summary: on your first day back at spider society hq, your male colleagues are inexplicably drawn to you. your boss, miguel, seems to be affected more than anybody. surely there's an explanation and solution, but who were you to resist?
warnings: explicit language, sexual tension/content, use of pheromones (please let me know if i need to add more!)
wc: 9.6k+ oneshot
a/n: apparently there was a rumor that a body butter named Delícia Drench (hence name of the fic) attracted wolf spiders! somebody on reddit said it's because there might be two ingredients that imitate the pheromones of a female spider and it'll bring all the thirsty boy spiders to your yard. and with miguel being 50% spider, how could i resist writing? (shoutout to scarlet for the wonderful prompt!) however DISCLAIMER! these claims are unfounded, i just thought it was a fun prompt to write off of. anything i say in the fic referring to the butter is purely fictional and im just talking out of my ass. with that being said, enjoy!
Just before the sun began to rise over the city line of Earth-766’s New York, your hand shot out to slam the snooze button of your annoying alarm clock before it could even go off. The silky sheets you were laid in were far too comfortable, reluctant to release you from its dreamlike embrace, but alas, duty was calling. The holidays had come to a close, and your peaceful vacation back in your home dimension was a bliss escape away from your tiring job.
You didn’t hate your job; in fact, it was just the opposite. Since you were in middle school, you always had an unrivaled passion for chemistry, as many Spiders were. Your life before getting bitten by that spider was mainly winning science fairs, calibration rooms, and working towards your Ph.D. Even after becoming your New York’s one and only Spiderwoman, your academic pursuit never ceased, eventually landing yourself at the prestigious Alchemax. However, it was because you had secured such a high-profile job that you caught the attention of the Spider Society, in the form of its leader, Miguel. He somehow knew that you were on the path to creating a more stable version of Rapture, and because of this, he was persistent in roping you into his ranks.
At first, you had declined profusely, briskly walking away from where he had approached you in Central Park. The brisk walk eventually turned into a full-on Spider chase, although the uniqueness of his abilities seemed to distract you. The talons that protruded from his fingers that tore through metal like paper, the neon-red nature of his webs, and his fangs. His fangs were what intrigued you the most. Eventually, you were pincered by him and another Spiderwoman named Jessica, who would later become one of your best friends.
Alas, you accepted, although not until being lured in by the offer of all the technology and scientific advancements you could imagine in Nueva York. The first time you had entered the HQ’s lab, you were like a kid in the candy store. You loved your job, which involved tailoring different types of chemical equipment, unique for each Spider that came by, as well as equally unique medicines and antidotes for the medical ward. 
Your main job, however, was developing the Rapture injection, the one you were recruited for, almost daily. And for who other than your broody boss? Even though he hadn’t left the best impression after chasing you like a madman in your hometown, you were required to work with him. And in the beginning, it would be an understatement to say it was challenging. Miguel was a whirlwind of sarcastic remarks and impatience who constantly nagged you for any updates. And to make it worse, each morning, you would make your way to Miguel’s office and inject him with your experimental Rapture of the day. Then in the evening, you would return to observe the effects. The days consisted of constant complaints that you were late, that the injection didn’t have the intended effect, and that Rapture was your top priority, all of which were grating on your soul. 
Since your daily routine started and ended with Miguel, your relations grew slightly amicable over time. It started with silent gestures of gratitude: a cup of steaming coffee left in your office in the lab, bringing extra dinner for him during the end-of-the-day check-ups. After 3 months of your stay at the Society, you both started communicating with your watches (He was insistent that you call the watches gizmos, to which you adamantly refused). At first, it was only about work and your Rapture progress. The conversations then slowly changed into more casual ones, topics ranging from your pets back home to him venting his frustrations about the shenanigans of whatever Hobie was up to that day. Sure, he was slightly more friendly (which wasn’t a feat considering who he was), but his irritable nature was still a turn-off for you, and the sarcasm leaping into every evaluation didn’t help either. You considered him lucky that he was quite the eye candy. He was actually pretty attractive whenever he shut his mouth.
This particular morning was your official return to Nueva York after two weeks, so you decided you would put a bit more effort into your routine. Reluctantly, you rose from your bed and stumbled towards your bathroom, wincing at the harsh cold of its floor underneath your feet. You allowed yourself a moment of bliss under your hot shower, trying your best to wash away any stress you were anticipating that day. Once you had finally stepped out of the shower, you quickly dried yourself off and wrapped a plush towel securely around your body, trying your best not to slip as you trudged over to the bathroom counter. Admittedly, you weren’t the most graceful Spider; you were on the smarter side.
Then it was the usual sequence of your routine. Brushing and blow-drying your hair, skincare, and makeup. Just as you were about to make your way to your closet, you realized that you had forgotten your lotion, which you would’ve considered disastrous. Nothing bothered you more than your own dry skin. By habit, you were about to reach for the usual bottle until an unopened box tempted you from the corner of your eye. As you turned it around in your hands and delicately unpackaged it, you silently chastised yourself for almost forgetting. It was a body butter, given to you by Jessica during a surprise visit on Christmas day.
“This is from Lyla. She says to thank her later,” Jessica had said on that day vaguely before giving a brief hug.
Unscrewing the lid from the jar, you smiled to yourself. If there was anyone other than Jessica that you truly missed over your break, it was Lyla. The hologram assistant never failed to make you smile with the many ways she’d tease Miguel, but she also never failed in constantly bringing up asking him out. “I don’t care if he’s your boss,” Lyla would say. “I’d know more than anyone if he has the hots for you, and he guess what? He does!” Which was hard to believe, considering his persistent stubbornness in your day-to-day interactions.
Once the lid was finally off, a waft of vanilla with a hint of sandalwood drifted into the air. Inhaling the scent of the butter deeply, you felt oddly touched. This was undeniably a scent that was up your alley, and it was very thoughtful. As you worked it into your skin, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. It was when you were just about finished that you noticed something peculiar. You had caught a subtle whiff of another note, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was elusive, teasing your senses as you racked your brain for what it could possibly be. Figuring it was just an ester you smelled in your various experiments, you left the bathroom to get dressed, with a more confident aura around yourself.
Your first day back couldn’t have started any more peculiar.
You had barely gotten the chance to take in the surroundings of your beloved HQ before you were instantly greeted with Hobie swinging in as he called your name, landing just in front of you.
“Evil genius. Heard you’d be back today,” Hobie greeted with his signature half-smile, his lanky arms immediately opening to embrace you. Which was weird, considering he was more of a handshake-y/shadowboxing type of greeter. But he was a joy to have around in your lab (despite him not particularly having too much interest in your work), so you didn’t refuse.
“You’ve gotten taller,” you replied with a grin on your face, happily accepting his embrace. While it was comforting, you noticed that it was taking a while for him to pull away. Passing it off as mere affection, you pulled away and looked up at Hobie’s face. He seemed almost bewildered as he stared down at you, almost in some sort of trance. Was he looking at your lips? Was he looking further down?
“Uh, Earth-928 to Hobie? Helloo?” you called out, snapping your fingers in front of him repeatedly in an attempt to wake him up. It wasn’t until the 5th or 6th snap that he finally seemed to jolt awake, although still fixated on you.
“Oh. My bad, fam,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You raised a brow at his mannerisms; it was extremely unlike him to act so nervous. You then gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder, and you swore you saw him slightly tense at the feeling.
“So, you got a new cologne or somethin’ like that? Hold on, not cologne…what’s it called? Perfume? Toilettes?” Hobie began rambling, seemingly in a desperate attempt to cover up his uncharacteristic awkwardness.
“Oh, Lyla got me-”
You were cut off by another voice shouting your name to your left. It was one of the many Peters. “How’s my favorite scientist been? How was your vacay?”
“Just stayed at home,” you answered, a bit startled as you tried to split your attention between Peter and Hobie. “Anyways, Lyla-”
Another voice chimed in behind you. “I heard your universe is one of the most beautiful. You were definitely up to something.” Then another. “It’s been forever since I last saw you!” Another. “Wanna come eat with us at the caf?”  You even heard Ben’s voice, to which you were surprised he had taken a break from his usual moping to join the ever-growing commotion around you. “You smell nice!” Soon, all the greetings and compliments became a garbled mess in your ears, your view obscured by a wall of Spiders.
You tried your best to force on a polite smile as you tried to weave your way through the oncoming traffic of people. To you, this was completely unexpected and foreign. Sure, you had made lots of friends in your time at HQ, but people weren’t exactly buzzed to see you. At most, you’d get a friendly wave as you passed by each other in the twisty pathways. Now, they acted like you were an oasis in a desert.  As you whipped your head around, you noticed something in the ever-growing crowd around you: it was all Spidermen. That irked you slightly; you had made many Spiderwomen friends as well. Where were they? Becoming slightly dizzy with the growing clamor around you, you were just about ready to web yourself up to the ceiling and swing your way to your lab.
As if your prayers were miraculously answered, the familiar rev of an engine overpowered the clamor of the Spidermen, and they immediately parted ways down the middle to reveal Jessica, staring at you with an amused grin as she sat on her motorcycle.
"I’ll take you to HQ if you tell me what the hell’s going on!” Jessica offered, her voice raised so that you could hear.
Instant relief flooded through your body as you nearly sprinted your way to Jessica, planting a grateful kiss on her cheek before hopping on the back of the motorcycle. As you both sped away, you still waved goodbye to the Spidermen, despite how weird you had felt mere seconds prior. As if things couldn’t get any weirder, you noticed that the crowd you had left behind had almost immediately dispersed, with only some lingering around to chat.
“God, Jess. I’ve been here for two minutes, and I think I’ve already had the weirdest day out of everyone here!” you remarked loudly with a heavy sigh. You linked your arms around Jessica’s waist to remain stable on the motorcycle, eyes squinted from traveling at such a high speed.
Jessica only seemed to chuckle in response as she steered through the complicated structure, towards your lab. “Yeah? Try being pregnant!” she called out over the wind, her curls tossing about in the wind.
Your eyes widened immediately upon the revelation. “You’re lying, shut up,” you scolded, immediately feeling over Jessica’s stomach to verify it. Lo and behold, your hands smoothed over the beginnings of a bump, which caused you to squeal out in excitement. “Oh my god, Jess! When is it due?!”
“6 months! So don’t hold on so tight!” Jessica chided playfully as she effortlessly navigated her way through the building, shouting at countless Spiders to move out of her way. You held on for dear life, but of course, not too tight.
Eventually, you reached your beloved lab, to which you both entered. The door hissed closed behind you, and after you had set your bag down, you immediately sprung into action. This was simultaneously your sanctuary and your training, where you were at your best. Jessica watched from a nearby stool, gently holding her stomach.
“So this is where you cook up the good stuff, hm?” Jessica quipped, her eyes glued to the liquid that was poured into an instant syringe.
“Somebody’s gotta keep the boss alive,” you chuckled, your meticulous hands carefully measuring out just the right amount of Rapture before sealing it closed. This was the new batch that you had been working on at home, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager to show Miguel. “Speaking of which, I’ll need a lift there.” Packing the syringe into a box, you motioned for Jessica to come with you as you began to walk toward the sealed doors. That was until you were stopped by your pregnant friend’s hand in your face.
“Hold up, hon. You still never explained what was going on out there,” Jessica reminded you in a stern tone with an equally stern look.
“Jess, I wanna know as much as you do.” You paused, taking a deep breath as you recounted the event. “Maybe it's just a…welcome committee thingy.”
Jessica gave you a pointed look as a scoff left her lips. “Welcome committee, my ass. Those guys were like pirates, and you were a siren. It was more like a…’Welcome Back, I Would Die For Your Attention’ committee.”
As much as you wanted to bite back, it was unfortunate that she was right. While most of the Spider-folk were kind, as they tended to be, they were never that eager to see you before. People you thought you could never shake were in the crowd. Did it feel nice? You were ashamed that it did, just slightly, but perhaps for a different reason than you thought.
Perhaps Miguel would be the same.
Noting your silence and your brows creased in thought, Jessica gave you a reassuring smile as she stood to pat you on the back. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop messing with you,” she chuckled, giving you a gentle push toward the door. “But something’s up, and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“Yeah, yeah, let me know when you figure it out. I’d like to know too,” you said as you narrowed your eyes at her, although you could never keep a serious face with your best friend as you broke out into a smile.
With that, you both stepped out of the lab, only to be immediately greeted by another crowd of Spidermen that had gathered outside the entrance. Your face twisted into annoyance as you looked to Jessica for help.
“Move, people!” she shouted out above the onslaught of chattering Spidermen. “Unless you want to work with Miguel for a week!” With that, the crowd easily dispersed, scattering like…well, spiders. Despite the situation you were in, you were glad that many of them felt the same way about working with Miguel. Outside of work, he was bearable, but his free time was rare.
After another short ride on Jessica’s motorcycle through the complex, you reached Miguel’s office. You took a deep breath, giving your friend a firm nod as you prepared to walk through the automatic doors. As soon as you were about to take a step, Lyla apparated in front of you, sliding down her heart-shaped shades to get a good look at you.
“It’s been forever! Just know I’d hug you if I could,” the assistant exclaimed with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on her. Her playful antics were infectious, and her cheery tone seemed to wipe away the stress the day had accumulated so far. “Sooo, how’d you like your gift?”
“Oh! Right, uh, I’m wearing it right now,” you stammered out, feeling terrible. The morning had been so hectic that you forgot to seek out Lyla and thank her properly. Your response made Jessica raise a brow and lean over toward you, taking a whiff. You looked at her. “What do you think?”
“You smell sweet,” Jessica remarked, then paused, as if analyzing your scent a bit more. “And…womanly.”
Lyla seemed to nod eagerly at this statement, her virtual eyes glinting with curiosity as she prodded at you further. “And what’s it like?”
Perplexed by the wording of the question, you hesitated to answer. What on earth did either of them mean? Everyone was acting strange today. “Um, the vanilla is really nice, I had no idea you knew that I liked that sort of stuff. It was very thoughtful, Lyla.”
Lyla continued to stare at you a bit more intently, seeming to wait for another answer from you until she seemed to give up. “That’s good, I’m glad you love it,” she replied, though there was a hint of something enigmatic in her response. As if she were physically standing in front of the door to the office, Lyla stepped to the side, gesturing for them to go in as the doors slid open. “You can come in, but consider yourself warned. Miguel’s cranky at the moment.”
“When is he not?” You muttered, mostly to yourself, but you could hear Jessica snicker at your side as you both strolled in. The familiar hum of Miguel’s futuristic machinery filled your ears, the metallic interior of his office coldly greeting her eyes. When you first spotted your boss up on his platform (which was redundant, in your opinion), he was already wearing his suit. You swore he always wore it to show off his physique. He had his back turned to the both of you, seeming to intently stare at the screens and holograms in front of him blankly.
“Does he ever not do that?” Jessica muttered under her breath to you as you both stared ahead. It was so simple for her to break your resolve, pressing your lips together in a tight line to prevent yourself from letting out even the smallest sound.
“Are you ever not late?”
Miguel’s sharp voice immediately cut through the playful nature that surrounded the two of you. The smile immediately dropped from your face, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. How could somebody already be so irritated? The day hadn’t even started.
You glanced toward Jessica briefly before answering, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was just stuck in the lobby-”
“Yeah, I saw,” Miguel interjected coldly as he turned his head toward the hologram-screen that displayed the security feed. With a simple flick of his hand, the screen swiped out of view as he turned to face you, his face twisted into an unfamiliar emotion, albeit clearly not a pleasant one. “Really glad you had the time to mingle. Not like we’re on a schedule or anything.”
If Miguel hadn’t been 6’9” of almost entirely pure muscle, you swore you would’ve swung up and lunged at him like a rabid animal. Would it have killed him to be just a bit understanding? He was watching you through the feed, how was any of that your fault? His mockery and grumpy attitude were things you’d grown used to, but today, it was particularly biting. It seemed…personal.
Jessica seemed to feel the same way as you heard her snort audibly in response. This directed his attention towards her, his glare unwavering. “And you,” he began, pointing a finger directly at her. “What did I tell you about riding that thing through my building?”
“ Our building,” she bit back, her posture nonchalant as she lazily examined her nails. “How about you yell at the people who got in her way, smart guy?”
Miguel rolled his eyes at her remark, seemingly ready to go back and forth until he glanced down at her stomach. He then shook his head, gesturing to shoo her away. “I…I don’t even wanna get into it with you. Just…get out.”
Elbowing you lightly, Jessica leaned closer to you with a smirk. “See? Pregnancy perks,” she joked. “But I would’ve preferred a vacation.” You clamped a hand over your mouth to stop the fit of laughter you felt rising.
“¡Oye! Are you even listening?!” Miguel hissed at Jessica, pointing towards the doors. Genuinely, you admired her patience, as she didn’t even flinch. Giving you a look that clearly meant “good luck”, your best friend gently patted you on the back before taking her leave. You stared until her figure disappeared behind the automatic doors, and then you became all too aware that you and Miguel were alone. The air in the room grew tense as you attempted to quell the irritation rising within you.
Once you turned back to look up at Miguel, he was running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in somewhat of a stressed manner as he was fixated on another screen. Without sparing you another glance, he spoke up again, the words barely even louder than the quiet buzz of the hologram projectors. “The Rapture. Get up here,” he muttered, slowly pacing back and forth on his levitated platform.
Tucking the box securely in your (thankfully) deep pockets, you made sure to secure it tightly, the contents too delicate to leave dangling so carelessly. Mentally preparing yourself for the incoming 5 minutes you had to spend with Miguel, you flung your wrist towards the edge of his platform, a silky web instantly connecting the two. Pulling on the tensile web, you gave yourself enough momentum to fling yourself up onto it, landing opposite to where he was standing—one of your more graceful landings.
His back was still turned to you as you pulled the box out of your pocket, carefully extracting the syringe with your latest creation. Staring down at it proudly, you stood on your feet and cautiously approached Miguel. “Worked on this one during vacation,” you said, not necessarily caring if he had anything to say about it. “Think it’s my best one yet.”
Miguel’s shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep exhale, intent on reading the details of his upcoming mission. “It better be,” was all he muttered, holographic nature of his suit fading away in a patch on his left shoulder, his usual injection site. Placing your right hand tentatively against his shoulder blade, you held the syringe up to his skin, ready to administer until you noticed something. You gently pressed a finger against his skin, and it was almost as if the muscle was made of rocks.
“You need to relax your shoulder, boss,” you remarked, your focus beginning to trail across the expanse of his back. It almost seemed to ripple constantly from how tense they were. Usually, this process was the easy part, and you both had done this dozens of times. 
“Yep. Got it.” A muscle in his neck flexed slightly.
“Is something bothering you?” you asked cautiously, observing his odd behavior. Seriously, him too? What was up with everyone today?
“ Mierda , just get on with it,” he grumbled, an obvious strain in his tone.
“If you say so,” you whispered, injecting the green liquid into his system. Once again, it was different. A sharp inhale escaped his lips as he winced; you caught a glimpse of his eyes flashing a bright red in the reflection of his monitors. The eyes were normal, it happened every time. But it never caused him discomfort before. Concern was etched across your features as you took a step back, your eyes scanning over his body. 
“Seriously, Miguel. Is there something I should know?” you asked with a huff, placing a hand on his other shoulder to turn him around. However, when you were finally able to his expression for the first time, it was nothing like you had ever expected. His eyes were clouded over as they locked onto yours, a rawness in his gaze that made you shudder. His jaw was clenched, muscles taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed deeply. You even noticed the cadence of his exhales, each one sounding as if he was barely in control. Was this an adverse reaction to the Rapture? Uneasiness began to settle into your skin. Was this your fault? You worriedly placed a hand against his forehead to feel his temperature, now noticing the sweat that had begun to dot across his forehead. 
He wasn’t even stopping you or making any snide remarks. Something was definitely wrong.
“Lyla?” you called out into the void of his office as you retracted your hand. “Show me his vitals.”
“No, Lyla, don’t even think about it,” Miguel objected through gritted teeth. You both were only greeted by Lyla’s familiar giggle as a hologram screen materialized behind Miguel, displaying his various vitals.
“You’re supposed to work for me ,” he grunted.
“Misclick! Oops, gotta go-” Lyla taunted, the sound of her program shutting off following. You swore you heard him mutter “chinga tu madre” under his breath.
As you read through the different stats, you only seemed to confuse yourself more. His body temperature was slightly elevated, but nowhere close to a fever. No production of histamines, so no allergies. Nothing from the injection seemed to affect any aspect of his body. His heart rate, however, was through the roof. Surely Spider-people don’t get heart attacks, right? You were about to instruct Lyla until a certain statement in his vital report caught your eye.
Elevated levels of oxytocin present.
Those words seemed to knock the wind right out of your stomach, struggling to find the words to say as you froze in place. Was there something you missed when you were gone? Miguel just suddenly had a thing for you? Racking your brain, you tried to think of any way this could have developed. Maybe distance does make the heart grow fonder. Would you be disrespecting yourself if this was fine with you? 
Suddenly, images of your time with him began to pop up in your mind, but they were now corrupted. You thought of the way his quadriceps flexed as he carried boxes into your new office, the hitch of his breath every time you gave him a new injection, and simply how large he was in comparison to you. Your free hand began to fidget with the hem of your shirt, letting your gaze fall anywhere but him. You were certain your cheeks looked like they had been pinched. The both of you stood there, unsure of what to do, an awkward silence engulfing the room.
As if unable to endure this situation any longer, Miguel muttered a curse under his breath before he moved swiftly, hopping down from the platform. He seemed eager to escape his office, which was strange; this was where he usually holed up before and after missions. The sound of his footsteps rang in your ears, finalizing the fact that you were now standing alone, your mind a whirlwind of chaos. But with each step he took, the more you felt your heartbeat in your ears, the steady rhythm urging you to follow him. To demand one ounce of clarity from him. He couldn’t just leave you here.
“Miguel, wait,” you called out, shooting a web to the floor and flinging yourself after him. Once you had landed, you kept pursuing him, but he quickened his pace. Your mind flashed back to when he had chased you through Central Park, and a smile snuck its way onto your lips. It only made you even more relentless, your gait quickening.
Once you were close enough to him, you reached out, your hand gently tapping the broadness that was his back, a silent plea for him to acknowledge what had just been uncovered between the both of you. After receiving no response, you sighed in exasperation. “Miguel, please,” you implored. “Could you tell me-”
Miguel pivoted abruptly, the intensity in his gaze disorienting as you felt him tightly grip your wrist. Despite not having done much, his breaths were almost ragged. His eyes were glazed over, dropping down from yours just for a moment, stealing a glance at your body before returning it to a respectable place. 
“What the hell are you doing to me?” he grunted through his teeth, his voice low as it wavered with a hint of vulnerability. Despite his efforts to keep it down, the question echoed throughout the confines of his empty office.
As you tried to wiggle your wrist away, you realized it would be a waste of effort to try, so you let him. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with wide eyes. You knew for a fact that he could feel your heartbeat with the way he was gripping it, and you were certain it beat like a rabbit’s. Hopelessly caught off guard, you stammered, “I…I don’t know. It isn’t the Rapture, I promise, I did every-”
“Don’t you give me that,” he cut you off, his words seeming to slice through whatever resolve you had left. “I know it’s not the damn Rapture. It’s you. I know it’s you. You’re in my head.”
The admission hung in the air between you two, another thing that only seemed to confuse you further that day. Miguel’s eyes bore into yours, its murky depths desperately searching yours for any answers. But he was only greeted by ones who were as clueless as he was. As he stared down at your wrist that was so easily enveloped by his hand, it seemed to spur him on. Impulsively, Miguel gripped you by your frame and whirled you around, pushing you against the metallic wall, his arms forming a cage around you.
You felt like you were caught in the eye of the storm of emotions that were building up inside him. You were utterly dwarfed by his figure. Sure, you always knew that he was tall, but you never had been this up close and personal before. As you glanced over at the arms that had caged you in like an animal, you fought the urge to run your hand over the ripple of his biceps that were almost staring at you right in the face. Realizing you were definitely focusing on the wrong thing, your eyes met his once again, each time becoming more difficult than the last. Whatever he had to say, you had no choice but to hear it.
“I can’t control it,” he continued, the words escaping like a reluctant exhale. That part was obvious enough. “The moment you stepped into HQ, every damn thought is you. Coño , I can’t even read one sentence of the mission brief with you right behind me. I’m doing things before I even think. I want to hate it.”
The weight of his words settled over you, sinking deep into your skin as you felt yourself burn up again. His sudden infatuation made you realize all the flirty comments and gentlemanly gestures that had been following you all morning. Sure, it was similar, but none of them seemed to be affected more than Miguel. What was it? Swallowing thickly, you mustered the courage to speak, to test the waters. “But you…don’t hate it?” you breathed, your chest seizing with regret as soon as the words left your lips.
Miguel’s brows furrowed, and you had trouble discerning what emotion was causing it. “I don’t,” he choked out, his voice dropping to a whisper. “So fix it.” “What?” His demand hung in the air, a fervent and pleading demand. “I said, fix it,” he insisted, his words taking on a rougher tone. One of his hands slid down from the wall, and he poked accusingly at your chest, just at the top of your sternum. “Whatever you’re doing, fix it,” he persisted, his voice akin to a low growl that sent pleasurable tingles down your spine. “Or I will.” “I don’t know how,” you shamefully admitted, your words laced with sincerity. Your eyes were blown wide upon seeing how intense he was up close, you could hear his labored breaths. The silence that followed your answer lingered between the both of you, both searching each other’s expressions just for one hint, a clue as to how to proceed from that moment. Miguel had always made the decisions, not you, and seeing him at a total loss for words had also stumped you. “I– um, you said that it was when I arrived, right?” you sputtered out, desperate to say anything to ease the heavy tension that was beginning to crush the both of you. Your eyes tried to lock on anywhere that wasn’t Miguel, but it proved difficult when his figure loomed over you. “I can just, uh…go home? Yeah! I can go back home for the day, and I–” And then, with a suddenness that left you without your words, Miguel’s hands retracted from the walls at your sides, cupping your face. Without letting another beat of your heart pass, he surged forward, all too quickly, then his lips were on yours. 
At first, your mind tried to make sense of what was happening. This was Miguel O’Hara, your boss, and a rude one at that. The same guy who always scolded you for the smallest of reasons. Not only would it be inappropriate to continue, but a blow to your self-respect. Yet, in the moment that followed, you felt his tongue gently graze against your bottom lip, and all logic seemed to dissolve and wash away, surrendering to his kiss. You should have been embarrassed that you had to reach up so far to wrap your arms around his neck, but he hunched over to make it easier on you.
He seemed to have been waiting for any sort of response from you. His hands moved with purpose, falling from your face to claw at your body, exploring the curves of your back as if he wanted to burn every detail to his memory. The fevered kiss he gave you ceased for a moment, a curse just barely able to escape from his lips before he began to bury his head into your shoulder. He began to leave openmouthed kisses to the smooth, delicate skin of your neck, his canines gently prodding at the skin. The sting seemed to tease you, to ask you how far you were willing to let him go.
“So you are a vampire,” you remarked breathlessly, whining softly at each slow, tantalizing kiss.
You aren’t able to see it, but you feel the way his lips curve up into a smirk against you. The laugh that followed was mind-bogglingly euphoric, the vibrations rippling against the expanse of your neck so deliciously that the heat building between your legs became nearly impossible to ignore. Your hands trail down from his shoulders and smooth over his chest, an action that you found to elicit the prettiest sounds from your boss. You didn’t even know he was capable of such a thing. You wanted to know what else he was capable of.
“You want it here?” you asked, your hands gently pushing against his chest in an attempt to make him pay attention to your words. But it was like he couldn’t pry himself from you. You were given a mere grunt in response, and you felt his calloused hand hold the back of your neck, stroking your nape tenderly. With his face still buried against your skin, he inhaled the scent of you deeply. That alone seemed to make his yearning nature worse, his words barely escaping past the low whine that resonated in his throat.
“Wherever I can fucking have you,” Miguel said as he grasped you, hands cupping just beneath your jaw as his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks. The way he looked at you, half-lidded, pleading, and absolutely drunk off of your body, sent your mind reeling and melted your limbs as you pushed yourself into him. Your eyes darted around for a suitable place, but Miguel’s office wasn’t necessarily 5 stars when it came to comfort. Raising your head, your gaze locked onto the platform you both were just on. Meekly, you point up towards it, unsure if he would satisfy your request. His head followed as you reached out, and he vaguely scoffed.
You were about to suggest another place until his strong arm secured its way around your waist, and suddenly, you were being hoisted into the air alongside your boss. A yelp escaped your throat out of shock, desperately gripping onto Miguel’s body despite knowing you wouldn’t fall. The gesture made him chuckle in a way you had never heard before, the sound hearty and resounding deeply in his chest. And it seemed to drug you and fill your veins with such an unyielding desire; it made you wonder how something so simple as a laugh further fueled this indecorous addiction to him.
Before you even knew it, you were seated in the middle of the platform with him kneeling beside you. As you stared up at him, you were unsure of what to do. But it was like he had read your mind, resulting in a roll of his eyes and his sarcastic nature making a brief return. 
“You planning to just sit there?” Miguel huffed as he dragged you closer to him. “Lay down.” His tone is so enticingly irrefutable, so you comply, your back hitting the platform, the cold metal making you shudder. You stared up at him, curious as to how he was going to do this.
Slotting himself in between your legs, his fingers desperately tugged at the waistband of your pants before doing away with them entirely, barely noticing that he had taken your underwear with it. He marveled at what he had revealed, carefully tugging your legs apart as if he wanted to worship it further. His eyes flicked up to your face for just a painstaking moment, and it was hot from anticipation, worsening as he hovered between your legs, pressing kisses along your inner thighs.
“You want this?” he murmurs, his words deep and gravelly. You eagerly nod, fighting the urge to shiver from the coldness that overtook your lower half.
Suddenly, you didn’t have to worry much about the cold the moment you felt his warm breath graze you in just the right way. He pressed a wet, languid kiss to your heat, the saliva his tongue was slathering you with mingling with the arousal that began to pool. You were amazed at how effortlessly his ministrations manipulated your body, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each pleasured exhale. When did he have the time to be so good at this sort of thing?
Soon, you were introduced to his fingers, so lengthy and thick that they had your eyes rolling into the back of your head as they plunged inside you. Each call of his name seemed to spur him on, increasing his tempo and the lewd, obscene noises that echoed across his office. Before you even knew it, all of it was too much; the subtle curling and pumping of his girthy fingers, the flick of his tongue; it was like a wave had crashed over you, sending your thighs into convulsions. He slowed his movements as each thrust of his fingers grew more wet, easing you down from your high. The delicate touches lasted for a mere second before you were flipped over, your hips being dragged back as you felt your behind press against the outline of the stiff, rock-hard muscle at his crotch, a testament to how much he had been craving you.
What followed was a sweetly painful, visceral blur. You had heard the sound of his holographic suit retracting itself, and you turned your head, curious as to what you’d see. He smiled smugly at your doe-eyed expression upon seeing his goods, and the only thing occupying your mind was if he could fit at all. It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting it, he was a behemoth of a man after all. But seeing it up close, anticipating its entry was an entirely different beast.
But Miguel was experienced, having dutifully prepared you to take him, making it a more easy experience as his tip prodded your entrance gently, slowly easing himself in. The stretch was undeniably painful, your fingers clutching at the floor, desperately looking for something to hold onto. But as he pushed in further, the feeling transformed into a euphoric ache. He had been trying his best to remain silent to not attract any attention from the outside, but your name managed to fall from his mouth in a hoarse groan, harmonizing with the pathetic whines that you had been letting out. His hands pinned your wrists against the floor, the freezing nature of the floor beneath you contrasting with the heat that bounced between your bodies.
His vigorous pace slightly rocked the platform beneath you, threatening to tip over if Miguel had a mind to get rougher. However, he seemed to know his limits, effortlessly filling you up in a way that could satisfy you for lifetimes. Crude phrases left your swollen lips, each one a way to praise the man that was fucking you like his next mission was his last. The sound of your skin colliding with him was growing filthier with each second, more carnal. For a fleeting second, your mind filled with worry, anxious about anybody that could have been waiting outside his office. Anyone who stood within a 5-yard radius from the entrance could hear just about anything that was going on inside. But his fingers then came up to slither their way into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back far enough so he could whisper in your ear. “Keep talking, say you want me. Say it.”
And soon enough, you were begging for him, arms shaking as you struggled to hold yourself up as ripples of your orgasm traveled throughout your body, your slick absolutely drenching the both of you. Your pleas were what had done him in, his rhythm stuttering and his length pulsing inside you, unsheathing himself as he emptied himself all over your ass, the viscous liquid dripping slowly down its curve. For a moment, the both of you stayed where you were, worn-out breaths being the only thing you both could exchange as you tried to wrap your head around what you had done.
Surprisingly, Miguel had a thought for aftercare. He had retrieved a gym towel and cleaned you up, wiping away his release and your sweat as best as he could. “Still think you have to shower, though,” he commented, the smug undertone in his voice not going unnoticed.
“Back at you,” you quipped, though the smile never left your face as you redressed yourself.
You never thought you would have to try to sneak your way out of Miguel’s office, but considering how disheveled you were after your tryst with him, it was the only way to keep your dignity intact. The air outside was cooler, freezing against your skin that still burned with the residual warmth of his hands all over you. You shuddered. You definitely needed a cold shower.
After grabbing your spare clothes from your office, you found yourself in the ladies’ room. Stripping off your sweat-ridden clothes (you had a mind to scold him for not taking them off), you hopped into one of the showers and slid the privacy curtain shut behind you. The warm water was comforting, easily washing away the feeling of sex away from your body, but what remained emotionally was unexpected. The thought of seeing him again.
A nervous energy gnawed at your heart as you mindlessly lathered soap all over your body. The both of you just had a steamy hookup, but what would happen now? Your insides seemed to twist as you remembered the fact that seeing him at the end of the day was inevitable. The water from your showerhead seemed to pelt down at your skin now, creating an atmosphere perfect for overthinking. Was it a one time thing? Did he want more? Did he like you? Would he fire you? Thankfully, Miguel was due for a mission today, so you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him before your scheduled time. That would give you enough space to cool your head. 
“Relax,” you told yourself, barely able to hear your thoughts over the pitter-patter of water droplets around you. “You just screwed your boss. Tough it out. Forget about it. Act like it didn’t happen.”
However, the memory of his hands tracing the contours of your back seemed to follow you like a ghost, sending shivers down your spine no matter how much you cranked up the heat of your shower.
Enclosed in the white, sterile walled haven that was your lab, you buried yourself in work, hoping that the hum of calibration machines and the countless lab tests were enough to get your mind off of your tumultuous morning. You decided that it wasn’t enough, sliding your headphones over your ears and blasting your favorite playlist on repeat just so you wouldn’t have to hear your inner turmoil.
And it worked, the hours effortlessly passing by in a blur. Holographic displays and paperwork filled your visions, the very tasks you used to complain about becoming a solace on your first day back at your lab. You didn’t expect to get much done considering the crowd you had easily amassed earlier that morning, but strangely, that stopped, and you were thankful. Your usual visitors came in: Gwen, a few Peters, and even Hobie, who apologized profusely for how much of a “halfwit” he was being earlier, all while simultaneously swearing that you would never tell another soul. You agreed, stifling a laugh, knowing you could never be upset with him. Despite feeling confused for what had seemed like the millionth time that day, things seemed to be falling back into place, and it would have been comforting if it hadn’t been for one thing. You couldn’t exactly unfuck your boss. You chastised yourself quietly for thinking about it again; you were doing so well.
Once again, he was consuming your mind to the point where you couldn’t set your mind straight as you tried to come up with a new substance for one of your Spiderwoman clients. She had asked for a chemical that could help her easily attract and control actual spiders in her vicinity. You had a vague idea of how to bring her idea to life, with cetyl acetate sitting in one of your beakers, but you couldn’t quite remember the other component no matter how hard you racked your brain.
You retraced your steps, checking and double-checking the labels of the countless chemicals that sat preciously in your lab. You felt frustration coil up within you as you consulted your reference binder, embarrassed that you even had to look such a simple thing up. By the time you had located the constituent, many a Spider had begun to leave, the chatter outside of your lab winding to a hush. After squeezing a few drops of farnesyl acetate into your beaker, you gave the substances a quick mix, noting how nice it smelt. And how familiar.
Everything building up in you had left you seeking refuge in your dainty office that sat in the corner of the lab. As you closed the door behind you, temporary relief washed over you, and it was then that you decided it would be best if you went home for the day. Retrieving your bag, you sighed as you sank into your chair, weariness finally settling in after hours of constant work. Fishing around your bag for your office key, your fingers brushed against a jar-shaped object. You brought along Lyla’s gift for retouching throughout the day, but it slipped your mind amidst the chaos of the day. Hoping the vanilla scent would ease your thoughts, you unscrewed the cap with purpose, hoping it would ease the tension in your skin.
Just as you were about to apply, the sound of the entrance doors hissing open disrupted your serenity. Ready to tell off whoever was disturbing your peace, you set down the jar, twisted the doorknob open, and stormed out of your office, only to be frozen in place as you were greeted by the one and only Miguel, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. A new cut adorned his face, already in the process of regeneration as it had already scarred over. Different parts of his holosuit were damaged, leaving behind a glitch-like static; were those claw marks? He definitely had a rougher day than you.
Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “You alright? That looks like it hurt,” you remarked, tentative as you were unsure what the conversation would lead to.
Miguel simply shrugged, his eyes unable to find yours. “I, uh…the anomaly was more intense than I thought. Was a bit distracted, got roughed up,” he said, his voice a rare mix of honesty and humility.
Your brows furrowed together in sympathy despite the unspoken words between the two of you. “Did you need me to whip something up for you?” you offered, moving towards your box of plastic gloves.
It was only then that he looked up at you, his hand coming up, gesturing for you to stop in protest. “No! No, it’s okay. I’ll live.” He met your eyes, and you immediately knew that he was just as unsure as you were, the uncertainty giving way to a hint of vulnerability.
After a hesitant pause, Miguel finally spoke, the moment you were waiting for finally happening. “Look, about earlier…I’m sorry,” his words stumbling out. “It was unexpected.”
Although you had anticipated this answer, you couldn’t help but deflate upon actually hearing it. You weren’t expecting him to fall on his knees and ask for your hand, but you would’ve at least liked to hear him say that he enjoyed it. “You’re sorry? Would you rather have not done it all?” you accused, much to his chagrin.
“I– no, carajo , that’s not what I meant at all,” he sighed in irritation, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s just…it caught us off guard. I’m not sorry it happened, I’m sorry that it was just…sudden, that’s all,” he huffed, not wanting to get into it with you.
For a moment, you pondered over his words. So he wasn’t opposed to sleeping with you. With impulsive thoughts bubbling up inside you, you were prodded to take the leap again. “Would you do it again?” you asked genuinely, an offer to him.
Miguel’s eyes widened in surprise, an exhale of relief shortly following, a chuckle mingled with his words. “Yeah, I’d do it again,” he answered, moving to step closer to you, and you didn’t mind. Just as it seemed as if he was about to sweep you into his arms again, he stopped in his tracks, his head turning to your lab bench as he fixated on the beaker, the one that was carrying your latest project.
Initially, you thought that Miguel was some sort of a stickler for cleanliness, so you felt embarrassed, reaching for your disposable gloves once again. “Oops, I’ll just put that away–”
“No,” he ordered with a familiar intensity in your voice, making you retract back to your original spot. He inched closer to the workbench, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the mixture in the fragile glass. “What is that? Tell me,” he demanded, the urgency in his voice increasing tenfold.
Although you were weirded out by how much this seemed to matter to him, you answered earnestly. “Some…strange project one of the Spiderwomen wanted me to work on. Something to attract spiders, but just the males to prevent them from fighting. Synthetic pheromones, essentially.”
“Huh. Smells like how you did this morning,” he remarked almost immediately, raising a brow in confusion.
You stood there, utterly winded by his words, unsure of what to say. Was he saying this figuratively to flirt with you? But judging from the look in his eyes, he was deadly serious. As your eyes locked onto the concoction that you had made that morning, your mind went to the jar that was sitting on your desk, opened. Without another word, you rushed to your office, taking the jar of body butter and inhaling its aroma deeply. You felt your heart drop to your stomach in terror, the scents were strikingly similar. Turning the jar around in your hands with haste, your eyes scanned for the list of ingredients, silently praying you weren’t rubbing what you thought you were rubbing into your skin.
As you searched, you felt Miguel’s presence right behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he examined the jar with you, inexplicably drawn to it. “What’s that?” he inquired, the strain in his voice from before making a return.
“The lotion I put on this morning,” you said dreadfully, turning your head to look up at him sheepishly. Still confused, he met your gaze only for a moment before he searched through the neverending list of ingredients.
“What did you put in that beaker?”
“Farnesyl acetate and hexadecyl acetate. If it doesn’t say hexadecyl, try cetyl.”
After a minute of searching, Miguel hunched over you to point at a specific spot on the jar. Following his finger, you sighed, laying your eyes on the very thing you didn’t want to see.
“So…” you began awkwardly, unable to wrap your mind around the information bouncing around in your brain. It started to connect like dots: how you attracted the Spidermen in the morning by the dozen, Jessica’s remark about you smelling like a “woman”, Miguel’s sudden lust for you. Then the notable absence of your eager Spider-crowd after your shower. “As your head chemist, I can conclude that spider pheromones can work on…us.”
“Evidently,” Miguel responded, visibly dumbfounded. Seeming eager to prevent more chaos from occurring, he took the jar and its lid from your hands, screwing the lid tightly shut before placing it on your desk carefully. “Where’d you even get something like that?”
“I didn’t. Lyla got it for me,” you confessed. Your mind went to that mischievous hologram. Did she know? Was this a clever attempt to kickstart something between you and Miguel?
“Lyla, that minx...” Miguel trailed off, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling before he squeezed them shut, pinching his nose bridge in an attempt to quell what presumably was a string of curses toward his assistant. Immediately, he swiftly turned around, muttering quietly to himself as he made his way towards his exit. “I ought to give her a piece of my mind…”
You stared after him, about to leave him to his own devices before a thought crossed your mind. You remembered Miguel’s biology, the very thing that made him Spiderman in the first place: his DNA was spliced with one of a spider, effectively making him 50% arachnid. The pheromones you had been unknowingly emitting would affect him more than anyone else, and it proved to be true. An uneasiness settled into your stomach, was that the only reason why he wanted you?
“Wait,” you called after him, your voice betraying your attempted nonchalance. Miguel paused at the doorway, leaning against it as he turned to look at you with an arched brow. His eyes silently asked you to proceed.
“Is it… just the pheromones?” you asked, feeling your stomach twist and turn into knots as you awaited his reply. “You know, about everything, uh, earlier.”
Miguel pushed himself off of the door. “Well, it definitely gave me the push I needed,” he admitted, sauntering over to you with a grin so smug you wanted to smack it off his face. “But, if we’re being honest, I would’ve done it eventually.”
You blinked, processing his words.”You mean that? But you’re kinda mean.”
He sighed loudly, stopping just in front of you. “Idiot. Yes, I mean it,” he muttered, leaning down to cup your cheeks in his hands, his face levelling with yours. “You drive me crazy.”
And the kiss that Miguel left on your lips afterward was more gentle than the hungry, needy one he gave you before, dispelling any doubts you had about the true nature of his feelings. His lips were like heaven, slightly chapped from the labor of his mission from earlier, but you didn’t care. When he pulled away, there was a soft playfulness in his eyes you had never seen before.
“You got it?” he teased, his thumb smoothing over your cheek.
You managed a nod, resulting in Miguel gently patting your cheek before releasing you and turning to leave, still insistent that he give Lyla a piece of his mind. Giggling at his antics, you were about to grab your things to leave until you saw his head pop in the entrance once more. “Yes?” you called out.
“Bottle that thing up and label it as a hazard,” he ordered in response, pointing toward the open beaker on the bench. “It’s damn near chemical warfare,” he mumbled before disappearing again.
“Yes, boss,” you complied, unable to fight the grin that was now plastered to your face. As you bottled up your concoction, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. Again.
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originally posted on ao3! first fic i'm ever posting on tumblr and i'm so excited! feedback and suggestions for more stories are more than welcome!
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tf2occontest · 2 months ago
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The Courier VS Ágatha, the Nurse VS The Intern
(Full matchup list here)
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Alright team, here's a recap: This is a contest to determine who amongst you will take the top of the leaderboards and be hired at TFI! Simply put, whoever gets the most votes gets to move on, and whoever doesn't... Well. They'll be put down swiftly and cleanly. :}
So, mann your stations, because here are your next contestants! Vote for your favorite mercenary who you want to win the TF2 OC Contest! - P
OC INFO UNDER THE CUT!
We highly encourage you to take a peek to make your decision!
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The Courier
@sicc-nasti
Image credit: @/sicc-nasti
Do you like receiving your mail on time and your packages in pristine condition - untouched by curious hands and peeping eyes? Do you love when your woefully embarrassing love letters filled with poetry from your soul are delivered with the utmost care and secrecy? Does it fill you with glee when your special snacks you ordered overseas finally make its way into your hands and not a SINGLE piece is missing?
If you said yes to any of these questions then WOW do I NOT have the guy for you!!!!
Instead-
TFI presents you something you didn't know was possible OR legal - weaponized postal services!
Meet your 10th Class-
The Courier!
By intercepting and opening someone else's mail, an individual can gain access to confidential information that can be used for identity theft, fraud, or other illegal activities. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we? That's why our solution to this simple problem is bringing the mail to the battlefield! Courier is equipped with MANN CO approved disposable stackable mail crates for your climbing or shielding needs. Just think of how nice it would be to build a tower to do taunts on or have cover from that enemy Heavy's hail of bullets. Sure it's clunky but nothing shreds paper faster than a bullet - that's science tested and math approved by TFI scientists! And monkeys!
Courier is THE MANN for the job.
If that ain't enough to catch your attention, let's take a peek at the men behind the uniform.
RED’s Courier is a Puerto Rican ex-felon hailing from the greatest place on earth! New York City! With an insatiable appetite for all things fraud, deli meats, and violence - what more could you ask from a guy?
BLU's Courier is a Puerto Rican-Italian ex-con plucked from the greatest place on earth! Jersey City! With an insatiable appetite for all things smuggling, deli meats, and violence - what more could you ask from a guy?
Not enough for a vote?
Well, listen, I'm not above bribery. If you vote for them, Courier promises to not read your mail for like a week and INSTEAD- will write you up a totally not fraudulent marriage certificate to any merc you want!! Just think! Finally legally married to Heavy! Or Engie! How’s that sound for incentive, boss?
THROUGH RAIN, SHINE, BULLET HAIL OR SNOW, THEY’RE YOUR COURIER.
VOTE FOR COURIER IN THIS UPCOMING TF2 OC CONTEST
Maybe there’ll be enough in the budget for a third one!
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Ágatha, the Nurse
@arts-of-gjb
Image credit: @/arts-of-gjb
Ágatha is a young brazilian girl from Salvador, Bahia (Brazil). She is very friendly and energetic, but also have a deep taste for medical experiments and doesn't mind seing blood for the most of the time, traces that were noticed and encouraged by her uncle, Medic. He started to bring her once she made 10 so he could teach her all he know. Inside the battlefields, Ágatha asumes The Nurse title, The nurse class in unable to capture control points, move payloads, grab inteligences or even cause directly cause damadge to others players, because her only objectives as part of the team are:
To assist, by curing her team. different of Medic, the nurse does not have a medigun to that, so she fulfills this task by being able to grab the medikits (or other healing iten disponible on the ground) and then give them to your teamates
To anoy, by shooting small injections on the rivals. as said before, they wont make any damadge, however, they will "stop" the player for a few secconds (the same way that when you're hit by a christmas glove from heavy, but it should make a pain animation than a laught one, and would work if hit in any body part).
Once her hp reaches 0, the nurse would enter in a "sleeping mode", where you get unable to do anything. If no one does anything with you when youre like this for a couple of seconds, then you wake up with half of your total hp, but if someone from the opposite team pick you up and leave you to a specifc location, then you are teleported to your respaw base, where you get unable to go out for a minute (be grounded time >:I )
A vote for Ágatha is a vote for Red team, Medic, Brasil and nepotism!!!!!!!
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The Intern
@queensqueercourt
Image credit: @/queensqueercourt
YOU KNOW THEM! YOU LOVE THEM!! The ever so fashionable intern makes a stance once again! paired with a improv pen shiv, stapler gun and rifle, they're ready to hit the battlefield with something never seen before!
These teens accidentally stumbled on the battlefield during their job orientation, and as a reward for surviving the battle unscathed they got a brand new responsibility: fighting in the field alongside the mercs! Simcha is a fun good-hearted rapscallion from Denver, and Tirzah is rebellious punk from New York City! help them win and who knows! maybe they'll get a paycheck for this!
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beautysamour · 2 years ago
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I’ve done the math, there’s no solution.
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✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miguel o’hara x reader
✧ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: miguel o’hara
✧ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in every universe you fall in love with miguel o’hara, and in every universe, it doesn’t end well.
✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, implied suggestive moment, italicized words in paragraphs mean it’s a flashback
a/n: inspired by that one trend where someone lost who they consider their true love and they say “in another universe we’re (something emotional to them. ex: you have my picture in your wallet).”
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Being associated with Spider-Man was a risk in of itself. Wherever Spider-Man went, death followed close by.
“Lyla, make sure to shut everything down before I leave.”
Miguel craned his neck to the side cracking it in the process, he glanced at the digital clock, 6:30. Right on time.
“Ok.”
All of the projectors Miguel was previously watching still surrounds him as the platform began to lower. When it’s a comfortable height from the ground, he jumps off adjusting the tie on his suit that now took place of where his spider suit was.
As he was about to fully exit the room, the sound of a familiar voice paralyzes all the muscle in his body. “Lyla,” he nearly yelled out causing the artificial intelligent being to pause in her movements.
“Not that one. Leave that one on.”
“Uh, ok,” Lyla teleported to another screen not thinking anything of Miguel’ order.
Miguel practically ran over to the screen of where the voice came from, his thoughts growing frantic, it’s you.
He watches as he listens to your laughter, a laughter that he wanted to put into one of his serums so he could inject it into his system, allowing you to take over all of his senses, caused by a version of himself.
“Miguel, stop,” you said in between laughs making no effort to actually push him away, only making an effort to splash him with water and soap.
“Uh, boss,” Lyla popped out from behind the screen, “You’re going to be late if you don’t get going now.”
Miguel blinked remembering what he had plans for. Clearing his throat he nodded to Lyla and continued his way out the building.
Miguel was never interested in flowers but he always made sure to buy them for you. On your first date, your favorite flowers were settled in a vase to the side of your table restaurant. He remembers the way you tried to keep your calm as you glanced at the flowers ever few seconds, the way your eyes lit up and the forced control over the corners of your lips that you tried to keep down when ever you looked at the vase.
He almost stole it when you two left the restaurant, and it was at that moment that he knew he fell deep, and there was no way he was going to reach the surface again.
“That’ll be $35.99.”
Miguel had no idea how much money he’s spent at this flower shop, all he knows was that it was your favorite and nothing else mattered after finding that out.
The sun was starting to set and Miguel had everything he needed for your anniversary date. Normally he would still be at the spider society, making sure everything was in check, no anomalies running around in any universe.
He remembers an argument you two got into during your first anniversary. It had been a while since Miguel was in a relationship and he forgot all about what it was like to prioritize himself over work, and in return ended up letting you down.
He wasn’t even sure why it even turned into an argument, it was obvious you were in the right.
“I was in that restaurant for four hours! Four, before it started raining and I come back to you injured?”
Your hair was drenched from the rain, you immediately ran back to your shared place after getting a call from Jess telling you that he refused to get medical treatment. While yes you were upset that he was late to your anniversary dinner, you couldn’t deny that what really set you off was that he got hurt and was planning on throwing on a suit to cover it up.
“Mi vida,” he groaned out not wanting to argue with you. Why couldn’t you understand that he had work?
You seemed to have only gotten more angry, and Miguel braced himself as he watched you come over to him with a cold bag of peas in your hand—ready to catch it only for you to avoid his eyes when you stand in front of him, the feeling of worry and hurt making itself known in your eyes.
You press the bag of peas to his biggest bruise, “Today is our anniversary for getting together. I don’t want it to also be an anniversary for me loosing you.”
Miguel was sure he felt his heart break at your words, guilt finally catching up to him. He took your chin in his hand, tilting it upwards to force you to look into his eyes.
“Perdóname, mi vida,” his eyes softened as they trailed down to your lips, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Yeah? Well, you did,” your voice slightly wavered at the end of your sentence. It wasn’t that you thought him incapable of protecting himself, you just didn’t want to see the day where you would get a call revealing that his skills weren’t enough.
He caresses your check and presses a kiss against your forehead, “From now on, I’ll make sure to communicate a sudden change in plans before leaving, does that sound ok?”
When you gives him a deadpanned stare he forces himself to continue, “I will make sure to leave work early during any special occasions.”
“And not go on any life threatening mission that lead to your stubborn self refusing help before said special occasions? Of course there are exceptions, like if it’s really really bad, but in general.”
He huffed out a laugh, “Yes. That too.”
Your eyebrows furrow as you truly look into his eyes, giving you a wounded look that makes his heart clench, and an indication that you were really taking his words to heart, “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Miguel was never the best with words, he preferred actions above else so when he finds himself unable to tell you how sorry he is, he decides to show it to you.
“Miguel,” you brokenly moaned as the feeling of pleasure built up crumbled upon you, allowing you to reach your peak.
You shivered at the airy breath that hit the skin behind your ears, Miguel’ fingers trailing up your torso leaving a trail of your own doing behind as he littered kisses along the side of your neck.
Your eyes shot open as you felt his fingers trail down your body again, “Cariño,” he sweetly says into your ear, “Let me make it up to you.”
He presses his lips against yours when you try to tell him it’s ok; you forgive him; you don’t have to cum again, but all those thoughts go away when he tugs on your tongue and babbles out the word, “Please.”
Miguel leaves the memory before it becomes too much, the imagery of you in such a debauched manner being too much to handle in public. Luckily he was just a few more blocks before he’d arrive.
The first step is always the hardest, but the next step after the first always seemed a lot more difficult at a place like this.
The flowers by you looked well, of course they did— they were new. Miguel was just here two days ago. He placed the new bouquet of flowers in a vase he brought from your shared home, setting them on the opposite side of where the other bouquet was.
As he brought out a handkerchief from his left pocket he lowered himself down on his knees so he’d be fairly leveled with your gravestone. He looked up and down, left side, right side, behind and in front and dusted off any dust, dirt, and pollen he could find.
Not to his surprise, there was barely any on it—on you.
For a few moments the only thing that would be heard by a person walking by would be the breeze and the sound of tree leaves brushing along one another. It’s only when Miguel realizes something that he speaks.
“I know why all the visits usually reside in silence now, my vida.” He looks at the engraved letters in front of him forming your name, the concept of breathing suddenly feeling uncommon.
“Really? Why,” he could almost here in your voice.
“It’s because you always started the conversations.” He paused, as if waiting for a response— no he was hoping for one. Hoping that he’d suddenly hear your voice from behind him, but he knew it was an imbeciles dream.
That pause lasted for a minute, then five minutes, then forty minutes, then all of a sudden the sun was setting.
The first step is always the hardest, but to Miguel, these last steps of every visit put that very saying to shame.
He’d be back again in a week, and a month, and a year later, and will probably never stop coming back but the other universe he saw today— the one of you and his other self— he felt that he had to get it off his chest now.
“You know, in another universe you’re laughing and splashing me with water as I tickle you.”
He waits again, and only silence gives him a response.
Being associated with Spider-Man was a risk in of itself. Wherever Spider-Man went, death followed close by.
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creepyscritches · 2 months ago
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This may be an over-generalization but I think a lot of misguided home remedy type people are interested in options that work (or appear to work). And by that assumption, showing them things that actually work or showing them how their current methods lead to the opposite desired outcome can sometimes open the curious door to better resources. Idk, I don't think people are stupid. I think people can do stupid things, especially when they're scared. And when you're scared of a health issue, you may end up doing stupid shit like offering special tea to a loved one bc you think it'll cure their cancer. Arguably you would like better for this person, and the only tool you have is tea that doesn't work at best and at worst nullifies medicines. In my experience, meeting someone where they're at can look like asking what they know about their remedy and what they want from it.
Maybe they were on the right research track and got pulled into a snake oil rabbit hole. Kill the snake oil salesman but help the person tricked into buying snake oil. Did you know the USA's breadth of cancer knowledge is published publicly for anyone to access? We also have our international knowledge pool available. There are patient verbiage versions so you don't have to learn a quarter of oncology to follow their explanations. Did you know snake oil sells best when the salesman knows you are scared bc you haven't heard the medical GOOD news? Scientists have a shotgun in cancer's mouth, girl. My grandmother was able to beat cancer in 7 MONTHS bc of trust in her awesome doctors. Any "doctor" trying to make a sale with a treatment may as well be Dr. Kellogg to me.
Idk! I live in the south and work with the Affordable Care Act patient population so I spend lots of time demystifying and encouraging (very conservative) people to explore their options. In my experience, I discover most times that while conservatives are not more or less doctor-averse than others, they ARE more likely to have been misinformed about a health remedy (often by someone close to them who didn't even know the remedy was fake!). You cannot treat gout with cayenne and apple cider vinegar. The temporary relief may make you confident that your money saving solution works, but the disease process will continue to worsen and you will find yourself looking down the barrel of necrotic tissue + amputation. You cannot lose weight by injecting pregnancy hormones. A doctor charging you $1500 a month for a disproved "treatment" does not care if you gain weight or get sick from it. You do not have secret intestine parasites. You do not have secret toxins.
You are working so hard to ensure good health, but you are securing an early decline. At the very least, let me leave you with a list of trusted, peer-reviewed resources. You have the investigative initiative and the drive to make healthy decisions, so try applying those traits in a sphere that does not have anything to gain from lying to you about treatments.
People very rarely change their minds in front of you. Let me leave an objectively helpful foothold for you to explore other options. You stopped researching too soon, try these options next time you want to look again. Also you should know that special tea might kill your friend - - I have some dot gov sites with helpful charts you may appreciate.
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reality-detective · 9 months ago
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This 👇 is the perfect example of problem, reaction, solution by the government.
You must fundamentally recognize that it is not above the government to use a medical emergency as a fraudulent pathway to acquire more control and power over its citizens.
They did it with Covid — a virus with a 99.7% survival rate. Yet they restricted your freedoms, your movement, even labelled your speech misinformation and banned it. They coordinated with media, social media companies, other governments, and the private sector to accomplish their objectives. They made it so if you don’t comply, you can have your license revoked, be fired from your job, and have your income and livelihood threatened. Then they restricted viable treatments in favor of an experimental dangerous vaccine, and told you that if you don’t inject it, you can’t get your freedoms back. They said the only way to get back to “normal” was to follow their orders and inject this dangerous drug.
Does that sound like a government that cares about its people? Does that sound like it happened in the most free nation on earth? 🤔
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meekmedea · 3 months ago
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CRACK AU thought - let's just say Volumnia has been cooking up some odd concoctions in her lab lately.
So the snake bite happens as it does in book canon. It's treatable, and maybe there's two parts to this antidote. Part 1 is given in the lab. Part 2 (at the hospital) is where someone messed up.
The screaming that Coriolanus overhears is because it is anything but comfortable to be forcibly de-aged to a child.
Someone messed up labelling the solutions and now they've got a 5 year old Clemmie on their hands instead of an 18 year old.
And 5 year old Clemmie is just as much of an escape artist as her older counterpart. They get her into kid sized clothes, and she makes her escape. She's actually a bit more successful since little kids can get into spaces adults can't. So while the hospital is trying to catch her, they're also trying to convince Endymion & Aelia that their daughter is very sick, but everything is still under control.
So she gets out of the hospital, but not very far when she runs into someone. Literally.
`
Enter Felix, who's been dejected that he can't get medication for Dill. He's on his way back to the Academy and blinks when a kid runs into him. Why does this kid look so much like Clemensia?
While he eventually realizes this is Clemensia, she's far more skeptical that he's Felix. She doesn't have the memories of her 18 year old counterpart. Felix panics and decides he has to tell someone about this. Clemmie's parents? The President? School is the last thing on his mind as he's trying to bribe her into going with him.
It goes great until some peacekeepers spot him, and are like: wait, that kid is the one we're looking for. Cue a chase through a park with Felix thinking that if he has Clemmie hide in a bush, he can order off the Peacekeepers and come back for her. Nobody accounts for the fact he'd be held up by them instead and Clemmie gets discovered and has to run.
She's like a cat, getting into places you think she shouldn't be able to. And in her haste to escape, she ends up inside the enclosure where the tributes are. Just dives behind a bewildered Reaper seconds before Peacekeepers appear, demanding if they've seen a kid run by.
Nobody is planning to snitch on the kid, who looks as if she is in some sort of hospital gown. And are those snake scales on her?? What is the Capitol doing to children?
Moments after the Peacekeepers leave, we get:
Clemmie holding out her hand: Hi, I'm Clemmie! What's your name? Reaper staring her down: ... Clemmie: 🥺🥺 The other tributes: Aw come on, just shake her hand. Reaper: *finally shaking her hand.* Reaper.
Everyone's trying to figure out why she's in here. Clemmie's answer is straightforward - people were trying to hold her down and inject something. It hurt. She ran. There was some boy who tried to help, and had her hide. Except she got found so she ran here (she has more of her 5 year old mindset.)
And her answer only solidifies that they are NOT turning this kid over to the Capitol. Particularly when someone Treech pointed out the snake scales and almost made her cry, because she didn't know about them until they were pointed out.
"Wow, real smooth." - Bobbin, probably.
Conversation devolves into: hey, if someone bigger than you is chasing you, you should do XYZ. Also a bit of: [tribute name(s)], stop teaching the 3 year old how to murder someone. / I'm not 3, I'm 5!
`
While this is going on, the hospital staff are losing their mind. As are those in the lab, like there is a missing mentor somewhere out in the city. Felix has been hauled back to the presidential estate for a supposed lecture, only for it to become him yelling at the President that his friend has been clearly subject to some human experimentation.
Arachne's funeral still goes on the next day, but minus the living tributes being paraded around. Moving the tributes is a liability, and the Capitol don't want to deal with it, when somewhere in the city, there's a missing mentor. Around this time, someone discovers Clemmie in the enclosure. The only issue is that she has no intentions of leaving with a stranger.
Word gets around quick, so as the funeral is going on, a news team is there by the zoo. Lucky doesn't get the scoop he's looking for, rather, he gets chewed out by the 5 year old who's very indignant on their behalf. Also some district sympathetic sentiment (the 5 year old who hasn't experienced the dark days has a very different outlook on things. Hector would be proud though.)
"Clemmie, get back here! It's dangerous!" - some tribute trying to catch her.
"You're being very rude to my friends." - Clemmie, standing just out of arm's reach from the bars and about to give Lucky a piece of her mind.
Quite a lot of people see this broadcast. Namely, Endymion & Aelia who immediately recognize their daughter. They have many questions.
`
Coriolanus gets volunteered to persuade Clemmie to leave the enclosure. It almost works until a tribute whispers to her that he was the one who kicked Reaper and she decides she doesn't want to talk to Coriolanus anymore.
But not before kicking him in the shins in retaliation. (A tribute or two cheers in the background haha)
The other mentors are told to attempt to persuade their tribute. Not that this works. If anything, the tributes that sort of get along with their mentors, have them leave thinking that maybe the games should end...
Reaper's mentor is absent (rude). Nobody from the Capitol is allowed to mention that Clemmie is his mentor, in fear that he would decide to take it out on her.
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pyrrhiccomedy · 1 year ago
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the one thing I have heard probably the most consistently, from the most people, since being diagnosed with breast cancer, is that I have a "good attitude;" meaning, that I make jokes about having cancer, which makes whoever is listening to me feel better about the fact that I have cancer.
Here's the thing - the worst part of having cancer (so far, in my experience - I'll update as this progresses) is having to live with the constant, oppressive dread that right now, somewhere in my body, a cancer cell is taking root in my bones, or in my lungs. That it will silently grow, and spread, and eventually become rampant and untreatable, killing me decades before my time, and I won't know that I'm on that course until it's too late to do anything about it. That I will have to leave my wife alone, that she will have to watch me die painfully and without dignity, and that I will leave this world without having had the time to see so much of what makes it beautiful and strange.
this is not a funny thought!
However, the second worst part of having cancer is - okay, so they removed the tumor, right, and at the same time, they also removed a clump of lymph nodes in my armpit. They do that to test whether or not the cancer has spread. So coming out of surgery, I have two incision sites: one above where the tumor was, and the other one on my trunk right about where your bra passes under your arm.
And that means I'm not allowed to wear deodorant for ten days.
Imagine me: stinky, in my bed. I am an adult woman with a beating heart. I will not claim I have any greater share of dignity or wisdom than a typical example of my cohort, but I have lived and learned and erred, and amassed a small collection of accomplishments which I would not be ashamed to present to God at my reckoning, should such a being exist, and should such a reckoning take place. Times when I have shown meaningful kindness to someone when it would have been more convenient or popular to do nothing. Times when I have told a necessary truth to my own painful detriment. Things I have made that possessed, to at least a meager measure, a glimmer of genuine beauty. Trust I have earned, and not betrayed. I'm not a saint, but my soul is not nothing, and as I am forced to reckon with my own mortality in a way that few people my age ever do, I, like - I smell pretty bad? And like - my armpit is, like, clammy. I mean, how long has it been since you didn't wear deodorant for multiple days. There's a change in texture that I was not expecting. Just in the right armpit! The left armpit is fine, she gets to have deodorant.
But like, stress makes the B.O. situation not so hot, and I'm medically prohibited from doing the one thing that would rectify the situation. I own deodorant. It's right over there. I can see it from where I'm sitting. I am sure you understand of course that I am immersed in greater miseries. Even aside from the existential dread of having cancer - the incisions are painful. I'm very tired. I have two blown-out veins from when the anesthesiologist struggled to find a workable injection site before the surgery, so I have some wild bruising, and I can't really bend my left arm. But these are afflictions with some dignity. To have pain or fatigue after surgery is rather ennobled in the common discourse. But - do I have to smell like ham, too?
Must I smell like rank ham?
Of course the solution to the ham smell is just to take more showers, but bathing after surgery presents its own category of woes, which are also not particularly dignified. And it's here, caught betwixt the Scylla and Charybdis of 'smelling like old meat' and 'unwinding my boob from its surgical sling to take another ride around the wet room rodeo' that I find the humor in my situation. The feeble ape rails against her trivial but intractable stink!
And that humor spreads - much like cancer! - to everything else that it touches. It is, actually, very funny to tell someone that the joke Christmas gift they got for me is probably what gave me cancer. It's funny, when people find out I got my diagnosis on January 2nd, to blandly follow that up with "--So, 2024, not off to a great start, but 2025 is going to be my year." It's funny, when someone invites me to something we both know I probably don't want to go to, to suck air between my teeth and go, "Ooh, I would, but, you know--the cancer. Yeah, I can feel it flaring up right now. Maybe next time."
Things are funny when they subvert your expectations. People expect you to treat your cancer diagnosis very gravely, and so it's funny - to them, and to me - when I don't. And then they tell me I have "a great attitude."
"You'll be fine," I've heard over and over again. "You have a great attitude. That's the most important thing, in this kind of a situation - keeping a great attitude."
I certainly hope that's true! There is definitely plenty of science to support the idea that a positive mental attitude has an impact on health outcomes. I think the effectiveness of modern chemotherapy drugs, and the extent to which my particular cancer responds to them, will have a significantly larger impact; and that moreover, it's probably prudent to remember that people with great attitudes die of cancer every day. But I will not turn my nose up at a percentage point or two perhaps coming from the willingness to crack jokes about all the cancer I've got, and how surprised I was to learn that I'd got it.
As I suggested up top, I know that when people say "you have a great attitude," they sometimes genuinely mean that they are pleased to find me in a mental state that might increase my chances of recovering from a deadly disease, but mostly they mean "thanks for not being a huge bummer about your cancer. I appreciate you for not ruining my day about it." And I'm completely okay with that. Like, yeah - I am deliberately sparing you from the burden of having to Take Seriously my life-threatening condition. You're welcome. I, too, would rather avoid this conversation on one of the finite number of Thursdays God has seen fit to grant unto the measure of our lives. What the fuck are you supposed to do about any of this?
(Shout out to my one good work buddy who, on hearing the news, instantly responded with "Oh my god, Geri Hallwell aka Ginger Spice also got breast cancer young! You're like twins!" Thus far he is the only person who has said something in response to the news that actually made an immediate, positive impact.)
So anyway, obviously all I ever say in response to "you have a great attitude" is "Thanks! I'm just focusing on the positives and taking it a day at a time." Because that's true, and moreover, it's all anyone needs to hear.
What I'd like to say - not to them, because there's no point in burdening them any further than the embarrassing reminder of death burdens anyone - but maybe to someone, maybe just to You, maybe that's why I'm writing this -
What I'd like to say is: dogg, you have no idea how subverted my expectations have been lately. How could I not find this funny?
How profoundly alienated from the absurdity of death would I have to be to not laugh about this?
Like - I know this is so stupid, but listen: I could die. No, no - listen - no I know everyone dies - but like - are you listening? Are you actually listening? I could die. I could die. I could die. I could die.
Isn't that so funny? Isn't that actually so funny?
And this - this attitude that I'm in, right now, this one right here, where shaking my head ruefully and marveling at the - maybe belated, but I think probably actually quite premature - realization that oh no, 'everyone dies' means for me too, huh - and laughing at myself for never, apparently, really grasping that until now, and laughing at the incredible statistical unlikelihood my cancer - I've never won anything before! - and laughing at how woefully ill-prepared most people are to respond to news like this, and laughing about how, of everything terrible about cancer, the actual number-two-on-the-list worst thing about it so far is that I can't put on deodorant -
Is this the great attitude you're talking about?
I'm not angry, I'm not resentful, I'm curious, I'm really curious. Do you understand why I'm laughing?
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datesinredink · 1 year ago
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Yan turtles (rottmnt) with an m/c that’s allergic to reptiles/turtles? Idk I just think it would be funny (not Donnie trying to get m/c into getting injections to help the allergy-)
ANON I AM SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BCIRBIFUNUIEH
Super duper sorry i ended up procrastinating really hard and i guess god took issue with that because he struck me down with multiple QAs and a Feelings crisis but the tests are over and I finally managed to sit down and finish Raph's part- seriously i struggled with him and mikey a lot but i guess it was kinda worth it in the end because Raph has an entire 110 more words to his part than the other three- hopefully it makes up for my lack of knowledge of his character. Enjoy!
Donnie
“My inspiration for this device was simplicity-”
Yeah you’re getting a hazmat suit until your allergies either magically disappear or he figures out some other solution
You’ll probably have to do a lot of tests, including possibly a blood draw but I’m no medical expert- since I headcanon Leo to be the medic he’ll probably end up helping too
After he finally puts the pieces together, he’ll start working with Leo to engineer a medicine to help suppress your allergic reaction, and maybe even be able to get rid of it entirely
Also anon you’re very right, you may be subjected to becoming the human pincushion of allergy shots while he figures it out. It’s safe. No it won’t kill you. Yes he made sure. Just, uh, maybe don’t ask your best friend their opinion on needles for a while….
In the meantime, he completely hates the current situation. He finally meets someone that he’s (mostly) fine with touching him, and they CAN’T TOUCH HIM without a HAZMAT SUIT. Just the worst. Awful times.
Normally, he’d have you around almost always, but, unfortunately, that’s currently not ideal.
Starts trying to keep things extra clean around the lair for you. Also everything that can be sanitized is sanitized. Good luck in the cleanliness prison after you get kidnapped later on.
The best about keeping distance, since he already wasn't super touchy before this whole situation. While he might tap you on the arm or something once or twice, it's nothing serious and you won't have a problem with him on that front.
Going back to the hazmat suit real quick, while it does do its job well, it's definitely not the most comfortable thing to wear, and you'll probably end up getting too hot pretty quick, so chances are you won't willingly be wearing it all too often. Donnie may occasionally force you to wear it, but otherwise you (usually) just... don't have to.
Leo
He’s the one who finds out you’re allergic. It was an accident he SWEARS. He only wanted to give you a pat on the arm when April first introduced you to them! How could he have known you’d get hives where he touched you?
At least he knows how to treat it. He managed to guide April through treating it, after which he sulked while rereading some Jupiter Jim comics.
Has a personal grudge against your immune system for daring to make you allergic to him. How dare your cells get mad about him.
When Donnie tells him that he might have “a fix, bro”, Leo jumps at the opportunity- oh thank god, he can finally hug you!
…Doesn’t mean he’s not super bad at focusing on actually working on it. Don’t worry, he’ll fix it eventually, just have a little patience.
Honestly, this is your chance to BOOK IT away from them, because none of them are as clingy as they will be after your allergies are cured/suppressed, which gives you more time to leave New York before things go from bad to worse.
Anyway, Leo’s about as clingy as he can be without physically clinging onto you for hours on end. Constantly hanging around you, like a ghost haunting their killer, except you’re not the one who kills people.
He might end up using your allergy to try and manipulate you away from his brothers. Mikey keeps forgetting to keep distance, Donnie’s suffocating and makes you wear a hazmat suit, and Raph almost treats you like a sopping wet cat that he has to take care of, so why not just stay with him? 
As much as he likes to criticize Mikey for forgetting, sometimes, particularly early on, he gets a little too close, and your allergies flare up, and while he does genuinely feel kinda bad, he will exaggerate his remorse for sympathy from you. He genuinely does try and apologize for it later, and he probably portals you two somewhere nice and gets you a couple of trinkets you like or find useful.
Mikey
Absolutely heartbroken!
His love is allergic to him! This is awful!
2nd most panicked when they first find out. Is their new friend ok? Did they mess up?
If you have a low tolerance for pain/allergic reaction symptoms and cry a little he probably will too. High empathy, man…
He’s really understanding after everything’s resolved and they figure out you’re allergic to them. He tries his best to keep a fair amount of distance between you and him, but he tends to naturally be physically affectionate, so there may be a slight adjustment period. He really doesn’t mean harm though.
He occasionally tries to bring you something from the mystic city that he thinks would be safe- a small figurine, maybe a sketchbook if you also like doing art, if he manages to bargain for/steal a piece of jewelry, he’ll also give that to you.
As I mentioned before, Mikey’s pretty big on physical touch, but since that’s off limits (for now) he’ll try to show you affection in any other way he can think of
Mostly quality time. He likes to take you with him when he explores through the sewers/city to spraypaint a couple of blank walls, and he’ll probably get you to try it too, and regardless of your skill level he’ll tell you it’s great
After Donnie and Leo finish making the cure, Mikey squeezes the LIFE out of you- he doesn’t mean to practically strangle you, but he’s fairly strong and he got excited, so he does feel a little bad afterwards.
Will decorate the hazmat suit Donnie gave you if you let him. He'll put stickers on it that match his and draw fun patterns that may or may not relate to him in some way. Maybe the spots he has, or the face on his knee pads. It's pretty endearing, even if his brothers may occasionally glare at him. In Mikey's opinion, if they're really that jealous, they should add something themselves.
Raph
And the award for most paranoid goes to….
Ok but really, he’s the most overbearing about it. This probably isn’t a surprise, but it’s still something I've gotta mention.
You don’t really have to worry about Donnie making you wear the hazmat suit- he gets it, not a fun sensory experience- other than a couple stand-out occasions, but you will have to convince Raph fairly often that you’ll be fine without it.
To be fair, it’s partially because he also forgets not to touch you sometimes, and while he’s better about it than Mikey and most of the time Leo, he’s also self-aware and protective enough that he’d rather be safe than sorry.
If you’re having an allergic reaction, he’ll either get Leo/Donnie/April to help you, or go find the hazmat suit Donnie made him a while ago when Splinter got sick and then help you himself
There’s a chance he might not do great though, as he’s not always the best under pressure and tends to panic when the people he loves are hurt or in some sort of extreme situation, especially when it comes to you (seriously, he treats you like a porcelain doll), but you can be reassured that he’ll do his absolute best to make you safe and comfortable.
Feels terrible after, pampers you a lot after the ordeal. Every time, not just the first few.
If he wasn’t the one who caused it, then he’s definitely pissed at whichever of his brothers made your allergies flare up. He won’t kill them, and he won’t lose it and drop kick them into tomorrow (yet. If they ever intentionally trigger your allergies he might snap some bones) but there will be a noticeable irritation and tension for at least the next few weeks between him and them.
He’s super excited after Donnie and Leo finish the allergy shots! I personally headcanon him to be the second touchiest of the brothers (Mikey being the most touchy, of course) so there’ll be a lot more casual touch between you two after. Hugs, headpats, you get the idea. If you try to tell him to stop, he’ll be very upset, though doing his best to understand, he will try to respect your wishes.. Before going right back to it after a week tops. Sometimes he genuinely does forget, after all, he does have a fair amount on his plate, but sometimes he does intentionally wait until he thinks he can get away with it again before jumping right back to how things were before. He’ll vehemently deny it, but no matter what happens, you’ll likely never really get him to stop for an extended period of time.
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