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gothgengargirl · 1 year

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The Works

You came to the new salon mostly on a whim. It was a Sunday, so it’s not like you had anything special in mind for the next day. Just work. Boring, dreary, work. But you thought that feeling pretty might help the work week go a little more smoothly. Give your colleagues something else to talk about besides meetings and progress updates. You wanted to feel seen for once.

For such a nice place, it was a pleasant surprise that you were able to get a walk-in appointment. Fern’s Grove, it was called. Cute name. The ceilings were high, and the place felt remarkably open and airy for being just another building in a strip mall. A fountain bubbled away cheerfully, a variety of exotic plants growing alongside it. The air was even perfumed, floral and berry-like, but in a way you couldn’t quite place. And the woman at the counter, who set your bag in a drawer and got you settled into a astonishingly comfortable chair, was gorgeous. Everyone who worked here was gorgeous. If this was how they took care of themselves, you felt like you were in good hands.

Your cosmetologist came up to you just as you were getting settled. She was just as beautiful as everyone else, maybe more so, with her dramatic cat eye makeup, purple hair and generous curves. She handed you a laminated list of your options, and you could hear her whistling cheerfully in the background as she got her instruments together and you looked over your choices. Hair cut, hair color, hair extensions. Face wash, moisturizing treatments, full makeup. Permanent makeup? That sounded intriguing. Manicure, pedicure, they even offered waxing services (presumably those were in another room). And one thing at the bottom stuck out to you, drawing your attention like a light in the darkness.

The Works.

“I’ll take The Works, please,” you said, almost instinctively. You wanted to see what this place could do.

“Sure about that, doll?” Her voice was sweet like honey, with an edge of something in it. Condescension? Anticipation? Both?

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, then, The Works, coming right up. Lift your arms.”

You did so instinctively. You were always good at following directions. And you thought you knew what was going to happen. She would put an apron on you to protect your clothes, you would talk about what cut and color you wanted for the hair, maybe get your shoes off and your feet soaking for the pedicure.

That’s not what happened.

Cables descended from that high, airy ceiling, and wrapped themselves around your wrists. You tried, briefly, to pull away, but you were held in place. Like a puppet on her strings. Clamps emerged from the chair to do the same to your ankles. You were stuck.

A momentary wave of panic was replaced by a curious fear, as you could feel something seeping from your new restraints. Soaking into the skin of your wrists and ankles. It felt GOOD. Like you were being polished from the inside, like all of the tension in your body was replaced with pleasure. And as you sank back briefly, She placed something over your head. A visor. You tried to close your eyes, but the flashing colors shone through your eyelids, and you opened them out of curiosity. And once they were open, you never wanted to close them again.

At first the messages were simply soothing. Telling you to relax, to sink, to accept all of the new feelings in your body. And there were new feelings. You couldn’t see anything but the swirling colors, couldn’t hear anything but the whispered suggestions from that set of headphones that must have come on just after the visor. But you felt good. Hands nimbly massaged your scalp. The waves of whatever it was from your restraints spread all the way through your arms and legs, making them feel limp and loose and silky smooth and perfectly plastic.

Plastic?

Perfect. Plastic. Puppet.

Pretty. Programmed. Plaything.

This was what the suggestions in your head were saying now. And you kind of liked the sound of it. On some level, you knew that you had work in the morning. You were a Busy Woman With Important Things To Do. But you always hated it. There was another way now? And at least for this afternoon, you could enjoy being a

Perfect

Pretty

Plaything

...

Time passed. You couldn’t tell how long. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time felt less and less meaningful, paying attention to the sensations running through your body. It was almost like an orgasm, but orgasms came and went much faster than this. This was a slow build, leading to a great flowing tide of ecstasy. You didn’t want it to stop. You never wanted to stop being a programmed plastic puppet.

But then, as suddenly as it started, it ended. The visor and the headphones were pulled off. The restraints at your arms and legs snapped open, your arms dropping into your lap. Your hands moved automatically, one of them grasping a breast, the other rubbing at your crotch shamelessly.

As your eyes focused again, you were amazed with what you saw in the mirror. She… you… was different. Your clothes didn’t fit the same way—blouse swollen and buttons open, skirt disheveled and riding up over thicker thighs. Your mouth was hanging open, lips larger than they were before, and your tongue was hanging out. It was pierced! A blue gemstone sitting in your pretty pink mouth, its color matching your new long nails, your thick eye shadow. Your gleaming metallic hair. And the place on your neck that didn’t even look like flesh anymore. It was seemingly embedded in your skin, blue circuits tracing out from a thick black band.

A Collar.

You didn’t even look human anymore, did you? You looked like…

A Doll.

“What do you think, hun?” said the voice behind you. The voice you now instinctively knew as Owner.

“I don’t think. I just obey.” Automatic.

“Good girl. Stop touching yourself.”

You did, immediately. Arms limp at your sides. Awaiting further instructions.

“What are you?”

“I’m just a doll. An empty-headed plaything.”

“Excellent! And what do you want me to do next?”

“Please…” these words felt like they were escaping from your soul. They were your soul. All you had left was this one thought.

“Please play with me”.

You saw Owner’s luscious mouth open into a wide toothy grin as you said that, watching her and you in the mirror. And then you didn’t think anything else. Not for a long while. Dolls don’t think, they just obey.

Good Doll.

#this story literally came to me in a dream #i was half asleep and held my arms up #and thought hey i can work with this #dollification #transformation #brainwashing #hypnosis #robotization #femcorp #dollify yourself #some of the verbiage is borrowed from hypno files i enjoy #ask nice and i can send you some links #💙💙💙#💙💚💜

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madhulikaupadhyay · 11 months

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There is no cure for vitiligo, but there are treatments that can help to restore some of the lost pigment and improve the appearance of the skin. Contact Madhulika Updhyay.

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pygmi-cygni · 1 month

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T Minus Ten

remember that miguel fic I talked about....

here she is!!!!

series warning: eventual smut (light), angst, pining, lovesickness, adorable migs, enemies (?) to lovers, more like emotionally repressed to infatuated, angst, miscommunication, as many tropes as I can possibly manage

warnings for this chapter: lots of exposition, medical inaccuracies, introduction basically, canon violence

miguel o'hara x reader (afab) no description other than reader is v strong and has some small tattoos on hands (important later i swear)

enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

The medical field was essentially obsolete in the Spiderverse. It takes hundreds of years to name a disease, let alone cure it, and then to add in the factors of different biology, different gravitational boundaries, bacterial possibilities....you honestly just felt like hanging up your lab coat and starting an Etsy.

Each branch of the Multiverse was grouped in the extensive medbay located in HQ. The branches with the most similar biology and treatment varieties were closest together. Every spider was given their hall number that had any resources they'd need depending on their genetic makeup.

It was tough work, remembering where everyone was from and the unique characteristics that came with them. Especially when some varieties blurred the lines.

Namely one.

Miguel O'Hara, head of this shit-show and arguably the biggest pain in the ass you'd ever seen, rarely found himself in need of the medical ward's services. Which is probably why nobody thought to figure this problem out.

See, most spider-people were predominantly human. The spider that bit them had only added on to existing capability: extreme strength that improved muscle mass, improved grip on fingers...the only 'inhuman' factor was the webbing.

Miguel had a slightly different build. His DNA had been spliced; like two ropes being braided together. The spider DNA had rebuilt his human DNA, therefore it didn't follow the same pattern in response to medicine or bandages. Which made his medical aversion a little more realistic.

Either way, it didn't matter how much he hated doctors, he couldn't fix a poisoned spear through his chest with an at-home first aid kit.

Eight of HQ's most qualified doctors sat around various scans of the monstrous Spiderman, puzzling through the bizarre data. Your education had been focused on epidemiology, or the spread of disease. Poison wasn't really your thing, but you thought it might be cool to watch.

Dr. Ben Parkinson, the 'head' doctor, was explaining the possible treatments.

"It doesn't seem to be deadly," he reasoned, "but prolonged exposure without medication might have some deteriorating effects." He pointed to a highlighted area of the wound. "See, the muscle tissue is deteriorating, and long-term deterioration could be permanent."

The medical staff shot amused glances at one another, trying to imagine Miguel as anything other than a hulking boulder of muscle.

Ben rolled his eyes and tapped the scans. "Do we have any base vitals for him? Any logged info?"

Maria, his assistant, scrolled on her tablet. "Uhhhh....negative on that. Looks like he hasn't done his immunos either."

You frowned. When HQ had established itself with a medbay, you and the few other nurses had done rounds to make sure any necessary vaccines and medications had been administered. How did we skip him?

"New plan," Ben said slowly, "let's get him up to date and then we'll evaluate. he's relatively stable right now, so let's keep up the current treatment and move from there, yeah?"

He looked at you. "You're the nurse responsible for his wing, right? Do you mind doing his vitals and reporting back?"

You nodded, faltering. What if the spider DNA screwed up his vitals? His resting heartrate was probably higher, and his metabolism had to be insane...the rest of the staff clearly did not share your concern, glad to be rid of the Miguel problem.

Maria handed you her tablet and gave you an apologetic smile. "At least the sedatives will stop him from scratching you," she whispered in your ear.

You shuddered. Here goes nothing.

Miguel was laid out on two beds with the guardrails removed. He couldn't fit on one, so the staff had to quickly improvise. You tried to hum a calming tune, hyperaware of the large claws hanging off the blanket.

Even though he was unconscious, a ripple of fear went through you. He was enormous. If he got mad....you shuddered.

Tenderly, you angled your stethoscope under the mess of tubes feeding into his chest. His skin was unbelievably warm, and you pursed your lips. Definitely feverish. You took his heart rate, tried as gently as you could to do his blood pressure, and measured his blood sugar on the dial near his bed.

Well.

His DNA was definitely strange, because all of his vitals pointed to cardiac arrest and a 104F fever.

"What...the fuck?" He should be dead by those numbers.

You did everything twice more, just to be sure. Still the same. Elevated heart rate, high temperature, and blood pressure that wasn't physically possible.

It confirmed your theory. That meant you had to do a full body scan, analyze the numbers, try to find some kind of pattern....ugh.

His hands were beginning to twitch, and you scurried out of the small room. He'd likely be pissed, waking up in a hospital room with a poisoned stake sticking out of his chest.

Reading through his file, you chewed on your pinky nail. Apparently, a new variant of Green Goblin had been discovered on the fringes of a random universe. It produced a highly acidic venom, the same that had infected the rebar impaling Miguel. The science labs were analyzing the poison, and little info had been found.

Corrosive, acidic, highly destructive on human tissue.

Huh.

Miguel seemed to be holding up okay. Explains the elevated temperature and heart rate. His body was cranking out energy, repairing the damage almost as soon as it occurred.

A grin teased its way onto your face. This was the part of your job that you loved. The puzzle, all the little bits that opened up a bigger picture and eventually, the solution.

You wrote up his chart with your hypothesis and sent it to Dr Ben. Tomorrow would be exciting, to say the least.

Exciting was one word for it. Apparently your prediction was correct: Miguel was decidedly not happy with his living situation at the moment. The nurse who'd gone in to give him his IV had dodged a flying chair, and it had escalated from there. Jess had intervened, resorting to an anomaly cage to keep him secure.

After that frazzling morning, Ben was ready for some good news. You were excitedly explaining the deductions you'd found last night, when a small knock came from the office door.

Gwen, one of the newer spiders, shyly poked her head in. Ben went to shoo her away, but you beckoned her in warmly.

Wait a second, you nodded to your boss, and he sat back with a sigh.

The young woman's colored hair hung limp and unwashed. She had been on the backup team to help Miguel and his crew, and the fallout had been hard on her. It was a big mission, especially for a rookie. She was struggling.

"Hi, Gwen, how are you today?" You pulled over a chair, nodding at her to sit. She folded her hands tightly and didn't meet your eyes.

"'M fine," she mumbled, fidgeting with her hoodie. You grabbed the notes you'd taken earlier and a pen.

"...Do...you wanna talk about it? Anything you remember, something we might have missed?"

The room was quiet as you waited. Ben shot you an exasperated look and nodded towards the clock. Not much time.

You sighed and leaned forwards. "it's okay if you don't have anything, Gwen, but we want Miguel to get better, so if you remember-"

"He was glitching," she blurted, cheeks flaming.

You exchanged another glance with Ben.

"He...when the..."she gestured vaguely, "spear thingy went into him, he started glitching. Like, really bad."

That made you stop. "Was...did you see his watch fall off at any point?"

She shook her head sharply. "No. It was like as soon as the venom hit him, he glitched. and it didn't stop until Jess and the guys got there. He was..." she shuddered, and you patted her arm comfortingly.

Though you did technically have spider abilities, you would never in a thousand years want to be fighting. You couldn't imagine dealing with that every day, especially at Gwen's age. You made a mental note to ask the psychiatrist for a check in.

"What were the details of the mission? was there anything specific about the Goblin that made him so strange?" As a member of the med crew, you didn't have access to mission files.

Gwen nodded, wiping her eyes. "Yeah. He was portal jumping like crazy. Miguel was so pissed," she laughed weakly, "he was jumping in circles like a cat."

"Was he glitching?"

"No, he was fine. It was weird...like he somehow belonged to all of the dimensions. We chased him through three different ones before..." A glazed look came over her, and you figured she needed a break.

"Thank you Gwen," you said gently, walking her to the door, "you've been very helpful. Get some rest, honey."

Watching her shuffle down the hall, you puzzled with the information she'd given.

What the fuck was going on?

Ben's serious look confirmed your bewilderment. This was clearly a bigger problem than you anticipated.

"We should give that to the labs," he pointed to your notepad. "They'll wanna know that info."

You nodded wordlessly, handing it over. What did that mean for Miguel? If this Goblin wasn't following the multiverse rules, was there even a possibility of fighting this?

Ben disappeared around the hall as you groaned into your hands. The excitement of the last 36 hours had done a number on you. Despite your heightened energy levels, you still felt sluggish. Flipping to the surveillance footage, you peeked in on your burly patient.

He was laying awake, the sharp spikes on his heart monitor indicating his agitation. His limbs were lightly restrained to keep him from disabling the glowing red net cast over him.

Oddly, you felt bad.

It was hard enough being injured and alone, but he was being treated like a prisoner. Poor guy. No wonder he doesn't socialize much.

Figuring you had some time, you grabbed your med kit and strolled down to his room. Maybe he'd have a good explanation of his situation. He was a renowned geneticist, after all.

The spider positioned outside his door gave you a wary look. "Miss, you might wanna-"

"Doctor," you corrected crisply, "and I'd like to see my patient."

The young man hesitated, but let you through anyway. He rambled about precautions and avoiding Miguel's temper, but you weren't listening.

His eyes were red.

A bitter, furious shade of scarlet that made your tongue dry and your heart cower. He was pulsing with so much restrained energy that you felt three times smaller. Again you were reminded of his size. You clutched your kit and dismissed the guard.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Despite his condition, Miguel could still easily snap your arms in half. Sharp canines dug into his lower lip. Maria's earlier comment came back to you. I'm more worried about the teeth than the claws, honey.

"Miguel?" Your voice was surprisingly stable, though quiet.

He blinked but gave no further answer. Swallowing, you walked slowly around to the side of his bed and sat. His straining thighs were inches away. The net hummed gently, resisting any movement.

You squinted against the bright threads. Miguel continued to scowl, eyes narrowing to slits. Trying to breathe steadily, you pulled out a capped syringe.

"I'm going to give you your vaccines is that alright?" stay calm stay calm oh my god oh holy fuck-

A singular, clawed finger poked through the net.

"Be my guest, mija."

He'd broken the restraints.

______________________________________________________________

part two out on Aug 18! love you xox

let me know if you want to be tagged for updates!

#fanfic #fanfiction #atsv miguel #spiderman #spiderman atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #x reader #reader is female

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amaramd · 6 months

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byroneve · 7 months

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Byron Eve

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Cosmetic Services: All new patients are required to book an Initial Consultation prior to any treatment appointment. It is the first and most important step towards your journey to a fresher version of yourself! Consultations are an in-depth discussion where your practitioner will assess your facial structure and features, go through your individual concerns and discuss with you the underlying anatomy and ageing processes. Sometimes treatments may not be medically appropriate or contraindicated based on your medical history or anatomy.

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azurebyanahat · 1 year

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Azure by Dr Anahat Pirzada Sibia M.B.B.S MD (Dermatology) located in the heart of Chandigarh, Azure Skin Clinic deals with all Dermatology and Cosmetology Services along with providing Skin, Nails and Hair care solutions. Our treatments are carried out using cutting edge clinical techniques and top notch technology.

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madhulika-upadhyay · 1 year

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Moles are common skin growths that can be removed for cosmetic or medical reasons. In Delhi, there are various options available for safe and effective mole removal treatment. Contact Madhulika Upadhyay today to know more.

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aestheticbyreese · 2 years

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The Ultimate Guide to Cosmetic Tattoo in Sydney

Tattooing is a broad field of art that includes various different methods and developments to recreate beauty on different part of body which completely depends on skill sets and skill levels. Cosmetic tattoos are a kind of permanent makeup that helps makeup look natural and set on a face. It can also be called as a semi-permanent makeup technique. With more focus on eyebrows, the technique of brow lamination or eyebrow tattoo has become main stream. Not only brows, even lips, eyes, scalp etc. can be tattooed. Getting a stunning pink lips with perfect shape and sharp lined eyes are in trend. Natural enhancements have revolutionized the makeup industry. A daily fuss free permanent make up is the main goal behind cosmetic tattoo. If searching for Cosmetic tattoo Sydney, visiting Aesthetic By Reese online to book an appointment would be perfect if looking to get a cosmetic tattoo treatment.

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