#don't tag as anything weird or i will do a murder
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linterteatime · 11 months ago
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Redraw of the most epic undertale sticker
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chaoticlandworlder · 4 months ago
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What is with the practically psychotic hate for Lance Stroll? I'm not even his fan- more indifferent- but the hate he gets is sickening. Like just see the recent 'Never have I ever' vid- so many top comments on youtube, instagram etc. are just spouting shit about him (attacking his looks, calling him window licker wtf etc.) based off the 'Never have I ever stood up someone question' (and of course they conveniently ignore all the other drivers that also said they have because it's trendy to hate on Stroll).
Of course, standing up someone sucks but first of all we have no context at all, and more importantly, it's clear the commenters don't actl give a shit about that because they're only hating on Stroll. This is literally just one instance of the way these F1 'fans' are so quick to seize any opportunity to put down Lance. Honestly, it's so off-putting, pathetic and sad.
#he's not even one of my faves but the hate in the f1 fanbase for this 25 year old is crazy#don't give me the 'his daddy bought the team!! he's so shitty!!'#he may not be the best driver but he's still a good driver#he got a podium in his rookie year for goodness sake#also one of the youngest polesitter#yes he was blessed with a rich family but god forbid a father loves his child and would do anything for him#he's usually good in the wet/mixed conditions too#but if you listened to ppl on social media you would think lance can't even walk in a straight line#im so done lol the f1 fanbase is so toxic#esp those on twitter/insta#honestly I doubt those type of 'fans' actl watch the races#they just do monkey see monkey do#and hate on a fucking mid-20s dude 💀#their lives must be incredibly sad to waste time spreading hate like that#lance stroll#f1 2024#honestly this isn't even about the never have I ever vid#it's more about the general and practically fervent hate ppl have for lance#which is so overboard#lance puts in the effort everyday but these ppl will have you believe he sits arnd throwing moneg everyday#this is the man who drove despite his hand injury last year for goodness' sake#the way some ppl talk about him will have you thinking he murdered their family#also he's just thr to drive??? idk why ppl go all up in arms to hate on everything he does from his looks to how he talks...#and in general the hate various drivers get is so weird#*money#<- too lazy to edit my tags lol
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mothwingedmyths · 7 months ago
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This took so freaking long
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throes-of-warm-tornadoes · 29 days ago
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the 2001 planet of the apes is so good to me. like, the 1968 version will always have a special place in my heart because the makeup magic was... dare i say... very magical, but i liked how the 2001 one leaned into a more biologically accurate angle. like, those are straight up apes. no wonder humans aren’t speaking as a survival tactic, those things could hurt you without even trying. again, the 1968 one was so good and impressive but the fact that taylor could overpower the actors that were playing gorillas was a little jarring lol. which makes sense, cos so much of his escape plan relied on him being strong enough to push people out of the way.
this isn't a complaint btw! they're just people in costumes---they are still very much giving ape, but there wasn't much they could do about that on a physical level. so, when the 2001 had these big hulking gorillas and more accurate looking chimpanzee faces on the screen, i appreciated that detail about the humans exploiting their fear of the water. it leveled the playing field without making the fight against the apes look like a losing battle
#i do really love that u can still tell it's makeup though#i feel like people say that as an insult bc it apparently “takes them out of the story” but like. cmon#cgi or not they're not real apes either way#i explained this so horribly as per usual :(#but im just saying that those mfs---especially chimps---are STRONG#like if we wanna get technical the gorillas at the beginning had to have been making a conscious effort not to use ALL their strength#when they were hunting the humans in the 1968 movie#otherwise they prob just would have died/been severely injured by just being manhandled into their cages#i think the only hint of ape strength we got is when cornelius straight up murdered that mf just by whacking him in the head w a lunch tray#im no movie expert (far from it... i cant be trusted to analyze anything really) but i did rlly like the 2001 version for a lot of reasons#the first one obviously being what this post is about: addressing the natural strength advantage apes have. which is why they don't use gun#bc why even give humans a sliver of a chance to get the upper hand#also they officially addressed why they hate monkeys! i mean u could kinda assume why but the confirmation was nice lol#i lowk didn't understand how the apes rose in that movie like even tho it was weird in the 1968 version#at least they dedicated several movies to the concept#woah these tags got long! thank god for this sideblog cos im not even embarrassed about it#ah shoot i forgot to add actual tags!#planet of the apes#planet of the apes 2001
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dropespeon · 1 year ago
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i Need to write something about dcmk because i just have so many thoughts and nothing i've read has done it for me but I do not know what. But I need to write Something
#drop#i am a chronic overanalyst#and dcmk has . so much in the way of thematic parallels and just so much? potential#like i see these characters and i think. boy you have so much potential for an extremely interesting story#like. list of themes that dcmk's characters are terrifyingly well tailored for lighting round go:#(some of these intentional some not)#justice & morality esp pertaining to law. selflessness vs selfishness and how they're inherently intertwined.#so much loss. good lord. of course death is a theme in The Murder show but like actually it's everywhere#avoidance & escapism. looking directly at every parent in the series as i say this#identity. don't need to elaborate on that i think#this is a weird one but i feel like there's also a lot of stuff about Passion and the conflict between reaching your goal & the people#you've left behind#and in general it's just. doing things both good and bad for the people you care about#and likewise sacrificing the people you care about for the sake of protecting the many#ok i could go on forever but anyways.#this isn't analysis or anything these are just things i personally think could be interesting to explore#i have a few comics planned though so. i will probably make at least Something#but god . god. the constant overwhelming urge to write something.#if i do ever get around to writing that atla crossover fic proper. all of this will be there. like in excessive amounts.#.... i have got to stop leaving all of my thoughts in the tags. but i won't 💚
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vanmarkus · 4 months ago
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goddamnit. this post was about if a ship would "make sense" in canon context, but now i gotta point out that there is no way a ship can be illegal. because again, fictional people aren't real.
incest and underage and whathaveyou might make you feel uncomfortable, but as long as it's fiction and no real people are being put into a situation of harm, it's not illegal jfc. grow up.
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i've been in fandom spaces for about 18 years or so at this point and i never thought we'd hit a point where this has to be said
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neverendingford · 2 months ago
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,
#tag talk#said out loud “I've felt drunk for the past week” and suddenly realized no you idiot that's dissociation#anyway. I've been floating on clouds for a while and I'm absolutely not complaining it feels nice#restarting my meds is maybe what's doing it.#going off and then back on my meds has just been a wild ride all around#oh well. I gotta stay quirky and weird somehow right?#I've been thinking a lot about my breakup and how it wasn't even because of anything except that I got bored of him#and even playing aoe with him is getting boring cause his skill level is way behind me#the only person who moves the same speed as me is my brother. so I'm gonna go with him wherever he goes#I do like him a lot. but also there's the knowledge that if I don't stick with him I'll be way more lonely#moving out with someone else would guarantee that I'm leaving the only person in life who actually gets me#and I would be depriving him of the only other person who even kind of gets him (I won't say I get him fully cause that's a lil arrogant)#idk. I don't dislike it. but I'm trapped nonetheless. my course in life is laid out for me because I have no one else.#I love him but I wish I had more than one person who I could stand being around longer than a few months#idk. I do feel more conscious right now. more aware. I'm glad I have him.#I just wish I wasn't so fundamentally incompatible with every other person except him.#we're damaged in very similar ways and so we match. even the rest of my siblings don't click with me the same way#I guess I'm lucky to have him. if I didn't I would be 100% dead right now#which... certainly would be the easier simpler option#but oh well. I'm cursed to live on this earth until he eventually offs himself#we have a pact that we're gonna talk about the suicide beforehand to turn it into a murder mystery or something#he said he wants my skull if I go first. which honestly would be cool as hell. I'd be happy with my skull sitting on his bookshelf#he wants to travel and he's lined up to have a good job to let him do that. so I think I'll end up coming along#idk. we're together for life because both of us are so incapable of making other meaningful friendships#even his closest friends bother him constantly and he struggles to connect with them#so we vibe in that regard.#sorry if this is depressing as hell. it's just.. idk. we both are likely and certain that we won't die of natural causes#but life keeps getting better. I've got plans to go back to nursing next year and I'm medicated so I should be able to make it through#I've had my current job for over a year which is a personal record for me so I'm kinda stoked about that#I'm getting bored of it but so it won't last forever but nursing should get me something new to work on
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the--queen-of--hell · 2 months ago
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I don't know what to think about anti proshippers anymore.
Antishippers say "stop normalizing child x adult ships" "stop normalizing incest" "stop romanticizing child x adult ships" "stop romanticizing incest" while being okay with romanticizing murder in some shows/movies and romanticizing cannibalism in some shows/movies. I didn't see any antiship throw hands the moment someone said "I like Hannibal" although it romanticize cannibalism. It's weird, isn't it?
Antishippers say "shipping fictional minor x adult ships is gross and disgusting" "shipping fictional incest ships is gross and disgusting" and "shipping X is gross and digusting" while being okay with telling real people to kill themselves. While being okay with telling real people "you should be raped" "you should be tortured" "you should burn in hell" and more things. Do you even pay attention to your actions and the actions of other people? How shipping two characters is worse than telling a real person "kill yourself"????
Antishippers say "you are gross" "you need help" "you're insane" "you need therapy" while being the ones who tell proshippers "you deserve to have trauma" "you deserved to be raped" (for those proshippers who were raped and were told they deserved it by antis- I'm so sorry). I'm no therapist, but if I were I would honestly find more disturbing an anti saying "kys" to a real person than a proshipper liking problematic fictional content.
Antishippers say "protect the children" "children could see this and think it's okay" "victims of pedophiles/abuse don't deserve someone romanticizing their trauma". You have no right to claim you want to protect children when you're harassing or telling children to kill themselves. Because yes, in the proship community there are minors. And no, they haven't been groomed into being a proship. Actually, if anything, they would have been groomed into being an antiship because they're scared of people telling them "kys" "you're a pedo" "you're fucking disgusting". And what are children doing in Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad anyways? They're not supposed to be here. They're not supposed to see content not made for them. If they are in these websites, I'm worried about why their parents aren't there to tell them "this is not a safe place for you". And if people were hurt by real pedophiles or were abused, I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for them. But why the hell they're seeing fictional content that triggers them? If it upsets them, then block the content, ignore its existence, and trust me, you will feel less upset and more happy.
Antishippers say "you deserve to be harassed" "if you don't want to be harassed then stop being weird" "if you don't want to be harassed then stop sharing that type of content". Do you realize you sound like those people who say "if you don't want to be harassed for being gay, then don't be gay" "if you don't want to be harassed for being trans, then don't be trans" "if you don't want to be bullied, then stop being a weirdo", right? Or you didn't realize that?
Antishippers say "this ship is fucking gross" "this ship is fucking disgusting". I'm sorry, didn't you see the thing that said "block button" "filter tags"? Because you can do that. If you don't like some kind of content, use the filter tags/block button. Watch the content you want to see. Use the block button and filter the tags. Search for the ships you like instead of the ships you don't like. I forgot something? Oh yeah. Use. the. block. button. and filter. the. tags.
Antishippers say "why there are so many fics of these ships on AO3?" "why people are so gross?" "why people have to write about this?". Bro- I'm sorry that you didn't realize before but- AO3. IS. A. FUCKING. WEBSITE. FOR. PROSHIPPERS. So don't start with the "Proship DNI" in your tags because AO3 is a PROSHIP web. If you don't like it, GET OUT of AO3 and go WATTPAD or FANFICTION. AO3 is for PROSHIPPERS and we're TIRED of your "Proship DNI" bullshit.
Antiship community is honestly one of the worst communities I've ever seen. There's no other community so inmoral, digusting, and horrible in the Internet.
To my proshippers fellows, if I forgot something antis say you're free to add it.
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zae-heeyyy · 4 months ago
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Valor
Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst
a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!
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Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.
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The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.
A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.
You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.
"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.
"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"
"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."  
You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.
"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"
You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"
You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"
Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.
"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."
Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.
"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."
And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.
Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"
Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.
"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.
The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.
"You got something to say?"
You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."
He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."
Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."
You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.
Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.
Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.
When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.
You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.
"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"
"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."
He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.
"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.
He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.
The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.
He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."  
The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.
"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.
"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."
The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.
"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.  
He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"
You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months ago
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Jungkook
𝐄𝖝𝖊𝖈𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗 | Teaser
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When second chances are wasted, there's only one thing left to do.
Tags/Warnings: Dystopian AU, Werewolf AU, Alpha!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Angst, Some fluff, romance but he's a bit weird about it pls let him cook he's awkward okay, Violence, crime and.. bad stuff.
-> Masterlist
There is no taglist for this fic.
A/N: oh look another werewolf fic oops. BTW if you do not like any of the tags or the trailer doesnt vibe with you, don't read the story. I literally have tons of other content for you instead. Thanks.
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“Do you think that people can change?”
No. Jungkook does not believe that people have the ability to shed their dark desires once they've shown their ugly faces to the world. Once someone has lost control over themselves and their inner demons even just once, it’s over. A wolf's inner beast set free won’t be tamed again, by anyone. There is no coming back from that- and a crime committed has to be punished, especially when there’s not even any effort put into areas trying to redeem one’s self. second chances should always be valued highly if given-
Because everyone has to face judgement for their actions, and if those second chances are wasted, he is the man who will execute the fitting punishment.
Jungkook doesn't believe in second chances.
A man who’s laid his hand on his wife will never truly change his mind and put the shackles onto himself after the line has been crossed. A cheating spouse will not suddenly become loyal as a dog again just because they realize the hurt they’ve caused. A murderer can’t give back the life they’ve taken even if they desperately want to. A young wolf lost to a frenzy can’t gain back their sanity with the snap of a finger.
He is part of the new world’s law.
Violence is the punishment put on people who can’t seem to keep themselves in check even after second chances. Violence is the final answer to the worst of the worst, the people who will never change.
Violence is the thing that changes people- from being alive to no longer being a threat to anyone ever again.
To Jungkook, these people are like maggots, infesting the cities and homes of families who just want to exist and live. Jungkook is the pest control, he removes those insects, cleans out the infestations.
Saves potential victims.
“I didn’t do anything!” the man slurs a little, alcohol in his veins causing him to visibly struggle with his bodily functions, even if he wants to desperately be sober in this moment. You’re sitting in the corner still, watching, well aware not to interfere with a man sent by the people in charge of the wolf’s law to carry out the final judgement.
“Evasion. Armed robbery, twice. Domestic abuse, twice. Attempted kidnap of a child while intoxicated.” Jungkook lists, having memorized what this person is being accused of- or rather yet, has already been judged for in the past. “You’ve shown that you do not aim to change.” He says, not even looking at you once. Instead, he just walks closer, like a predator, staring down his prey. “And now, keeping an omega hostage? Not exactly the actions of a man innocent.”
“I-“ the man tries, but he doesn’t get far with his words. “-There’s- nothing happened- Tell him! Nothing happened, right-?” He asks you, who’s staring him down.
Jungkook looks at you as well now, awaiting your answer.
You’ve got a life in your hands.
Your lips part, but you can’t speak- when suddenly, the man moves again, lifts his hand as he steps towards you, ready to intimidate you into answering if needed- but Jungkook is faster, having seen enough. Even if nothing happened- yet- surely if he was to leave, you’d be another body found. “Where- where are you taking me?” the man begs to know, unable to really go against the hand that holds the back of his head by the hair, fingers tightly dug into the locks to have a secure hold on him as he drags him into a corner or the small, run down house.
In this moment, Jungkook looks like a different person to you. There’s no trace of the man who just wants to help others. The hands that force this stranger to his knees aren’t the same that helped you stand earlier that day, hold gentle and without any intention to hurt. Those eyes are dark as coal, like two black voids swallowing any reflection whole.
“I'll take you straight to hell, where you belong.” Jungkook simply answers the man, before he lets go-
And takes out his gun, to fire the first shot of many.
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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago
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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.
Zipper
Day #12 - Prompt: Ow! | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Aftermath of a Sex Injury | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Minor Steddie | Tags: Gareth's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, And Eddie Tries To Make It Better, While Goodie Tries To Make It Worse
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"Is it bad? It feels bad," Gareth says, clearly refusing to look down again. And, he's gotta say, Eddie doesn't blame him. He wouldn't want to look down either if it was his dick in this condition.
"Well," Eddie says, as diplomatically as he can, "it's not great."
Gareth whines from his place on the closed toilet seat, as Eddie is squatted down between his thighs. Looking, examining. 
"It's probably gonna fall off," Goodie chimes in, and Eddie reaches over and swats at him. 
"Stop it," Eddie chides, because that's not gonna help anything, then he reassures Gareth, "It's not gonna fall off."
Goodie laughs his ass off, and Eddie's gonna kill him if he keeps this up. Gareth's freaked out enough as it is. These things happen, and yeah, Gareth seems more prone to stupid accidents than the rest of them. But still. This is brand new territory, even for him.
But Eddie's pretty sure it probably feels like it's gonna fall off, even if it isn't, because goddamn, fucking ow. 
The door out in the main room of the hotel opens and closes, and then Jeff is in the doorway of the bathroom, asking, "Why does it look like Eddie's examining Gareth's dick?"
"Because he is. Gareth tried to rub it off," Goodie says, dryly.
"He didn't try to rub it off," Eddie clarifies. 
Jeff leans over Eddie's shoulder, "Looks like he tried to rub it off."
"I didn't try to rub it off!" Gareth shouts. "If you aren't gonna tell me what I need to do to fix it, then let's all stop looking at my junk."
Eddie laughs, because it's ridiculous. It's not like he asked to look. Definitely not. Eddie lifts it up one more time, and man, it looks like he's been stabbed in the dick with an icepick, right under the head.
"What happened?" Jeff asks, and Gareth sighs, because he's already been through this twice before and he's beyond fed up. He told Eddie, and then told it all again to Goodie when he showed up, even if he really didn't want to, Eddie's sure. 
And now Jeff is here and wanting to know, too.
"So, I was fooling around with this girl last night," Gareth says, like he's giving witness testimony in a murder trial and not a sex story.
"And she bit your dick?" Jeff asks. 
"Tried to Lorena Bobbitt it right off," Goodie riffs.
"Yeah, with her teeth," Eddie adds, piling onto the bit. Can't help it. He feels sorry for the kid, but not that sorry.
"Guys!" Gareth shouts, and they all fucking laugh. But let him continue.
"We were fooling around, and she was grinding on my lap, my cock, and it got caught up against my zipper in a weird way," Gareth says, and the rest of them all shift uncomfortably, as if their dicks might be the next in line for such an injury.
"It didn't hurt while it was happening?" Jeff asks, being far more empathetic and reasonable than Eddie thinks Goodie or him have been.
"Of course it fucking hurt, she was rubbing a hole into my goddamn dick through my underwear with little metal teeth."
"Well, why didn't you stop her?" Jeff asks, like a reasonable solution to this would ever be the answer. 
"Because there was a girl grinding on my dick, Jesus H. Christ, why do you think, asshole?" Gareth snaps, and they all laugh. 
"I mean, you could have paused and done some rearranging, right? The options couldn't have only been 'no grinding' or 'hole in the dick', right?"
"I don't know, I didn't want her to stop what she was doing. Okay? It felt good, except for the whole making an extra hole in my dick part."
"Of course," Goodie says dryly, "that makes sense."
"Shut up, Goodie. Like you'd have ever stopped a fucking hot girl from grinding your dick down to a bloody nub," Gareth snips, covering his face with both of his hands. "Just fix it, Eddie."
Eddie isn't sure how he's supposed to fix this. It's just gonna have to heal. He can't make a hole in the dick go away. He's not a magician.
"Did you have sex like this?" Jeff asks.
"Are you crazy? I have a hole in my dick, no, I didn't have sex. I have a hole in my dick and I didn't even come. I have regrets."
And they all laugh.
Gareth's had enough, Eddie can tell.
"Okay, okay, show's over," Eddie says, and shoos the other two out of the room, the door closing behind them as they go, and then it's just him, still perched between Gareth's thighs.
Once it's just them left in the bathroom, Eddie looks up at Gareth, "Do you think you need to go to the ER?"
Gareth shakes his head, "No. It just really fucking hurts. I regret everything."
Eddie smiles, but keeps himself from laughing. It's hilarious, but it probably feels like a razor blade's stuck into his dick. It's the stuff of nightmares.
Eddie nods at him, "Okay. Then take a shower. Wash it really fucking good with soap, even if it burns, and then put some ointment on it. I'll find some gauze, or a band-aid, something. Then just keep an eye on it. Make sure it's getting better, not worse. Unless you really do want it to fall off?"
"Definitely not," Gareth says.
"Okay, that's the plan," Eddie says standing up. It's times like these that he wishes he wasn't the go-to whenever any of them need help, because this? This wasn't on his schedule for the day.
"Hey," Eddie says into the phone, "I touched another man's dick this morning. Thought you should know."
Steve laughs into the receiver, thousands of miles away, "What'd Gareth do now?"
Eddie smiles, big and bright. At the knowledge that Steve knows him, trusts him, loves him. 
And then he starts into the whole grizzly debacle, from top to tip. 
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: This is inspired by based off of Kevin Smith's comedic retelling of his first night with his wife. (Explicit story, but linked if you want to hear the original.)
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endofthelinepal107 · 3 months ago
Text
sukuna - a deal with the devil pt. 3/3
{a good old-fashioned timeskip. where do you and the king of curses stand a year after your alliance?} 3.6k words
part one + part two + part three
notes: he's even softer, definitely OC sukuna at this point but who cares i'm delusional
warnings: cursing, nudity (no smut)
tags: @missroro + @doodle-cat16
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"Guess what day it is today."
Sukuna glanced over at you. He was working out on the lounge floor while you were on the phone. He'd figured out a few minutes ago that you were talking to Satoru. 
"What? No!" You laughed. "It's mine and Sukuna's anniversary!"
Sukuna stopped at the peak of a push up, eyebrows furrowing. For a split second, he was unsure if he had missed some social cue along the way that should have told him he was courting you. In this modern age, relationships moved much faster than he remembered from during his lifetime. Not that he'd had much experience courting back then, either. He was too busy murdering everyone he saw to bother with anything more personal.
"Our meeting-a-versary!"
Sukuna sighed and went back to his push ups. Phew. He was grateful for that. Not that he would have minded that revelation all that much. He doubted it would change much about your relationship anyway.
"Our dynamic is not weird, 'toru."
Sukuna sat up and leaned back on his hands, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Your dynamic kind of was weird, though. He knew you knew that. Both of you tried pretty hard not to think about it. There was more leniency from the others with him, but not very much. You were still expected to be together all of the time. That meant that, apart from the rare occasions you'd managed to convince Sukuna and someone else to coexist for a few hours so you could go do something private, you had just been together. Sukuna knew you better than people that had known you for years, and you knew things about him that nobody would ever know.
"Ugh, do you have t- No, we don't!" You crossed your arms, pouting at your phone as though Satoru could see you through it. Sukuna watched you with a tiny smile. "What? Well- No, I mean, we do still share a bed, but- No, it's not-" You let out a groan. "Satoru, if you say one more thing about 'kuna, I'm going to hang up the phone." There was a brief pause. Then you leaned forward and hung up. You scowled.
Sukuna cleared his throat. He always liked how he could get your attention so easily now. Not because it made him feel powerful, but because it confirmed that you did care for him like he cared for you, despite the singularity of your situation.
"More questions?" He asked, as though he hadn't been eavesdropping the whole time.
You hummed. "Yeah. They're all so nosy. You'd think by now they'd have.." You trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. You knew why people had so much to say about your relationship with Sukuna. So did he.
"Learned not to ask?" Sukuna supplied.
You nodded, standing up and pulling a water bottle out of the fridge. "Exactly. Even if they do think it's weird, it's our business, right?" You walked over to him, dropping the bottle in his lap.
Sukuna opened it and chugged half before he stuck his hand out. You helped him up. It was more of a symbolic help because you couldn't shift his body if you tried with all your might. You didn't mind, though. He let you do it and that meant something.
He nodded in agreement to your words, sauntering towards the bathroom. "Should tell them all to fuck off."
You laughed. "Why is that your solution so often nowadays?"
"Because I got him to lower his infinity one time and you still won't let me near him." Sukuna shot you a pointed look, one that was meant to say 'let me beat him up' but really said 'you should stick up for yourself more.' And then he was closing the bathroom door.
You walked into the bedroom, changing into your pyjamas and then settling into the pillows. Satoru's words weren't anything new, but they still rattled around your brain. 
You knew it was strange for you and Sukuna to have never stopped sharing a bed. His funds had been in your bank for a long time now. The number was so high that you literally couldn't fathom it. You could've bought a bed. You could've bought a million beds made of gold. Sukuna should've insisted on it; he was the King of Curses, he shouldn't have been sharing a bed with a mere sorcerer. Especially not because of an agreement that was made all that time ago, which barely crossed your mind nowadays.
But you still woke up every morning intertwined. Usually, he was on top of you, his body draped over yours in a way that was simultaneously pulling you closer and keeping anything from disturbing you. And you liked the closeness, just like you knew he liked it, even if neither of you had ever said so.
Sukuna finished in the shower and dried himself off, padding into the bedroom in his robe. He turned off the light and climbed into the bed without a word. He rolled onto his side, reaching out until his hand found your body. His fingers dug into your waist and he gave you a tug towards him.
"Mm." You hummed and shuffled closer, letting him pull you flush against him. His body shifted so that he was partly covering you. You fell asleep.
Nothing disturbed him until the middle of the night. Sukuna opened his eyes enough to see that it was still dark and then snapped them closed again, moving to pull you closer. When he realised his arms were empty, a genuine sense of panic set in.
He took a deep breath, barely stopping himself from lashing out at the closest thing. Blind rage wasn't his style these days. He slowly rose to his feet and made his way through the house, eyes roaming the darkness until he saw you.
You were sitting on the couch, very still. You were nestled into the corner and you looked dazed, but clearly upset. Sukuna walked over and sat beside you.
For a moment, he was unsure of what to do. Even after all this time together, those few minutes before and after sleep were the only ones that held any kind of physical affection. Besides hitting each other, neither of you ever really showed it. Even then, it was usually him hitting you. He liked it, because he liked how you always reacted and he liked the reminder of how he'd learned to soften himself a little so that he could be playful with someone.
When you shuffled over to him and curled into his side, he was surprised. Surprised that he hadn't had time to think of what he was going to do, surprised that it was you that initiated the contact. Surprised that you wanted it.
His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up, resting you in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around you. He felt you stiffen for a second, just as taken aback as he was by his actions. Then you nestled your face into his neck and held him back.
Sukuna held you in silence for a while. He knew that quiet contact was what you were seeking, so he let you have it. He found himself strangely grateful that he could offer this comfort to you. Knowing someone intimately enough to know what they needed wasn't something he'd ever seen for himself before he knew you, let alone being trusted enough to actually implement it.
"What's wrong?" Sukuna murmured in your ear after a good few minutes had passed.
You sighed, leaning back so that you could see him but stay in his lap. "I can't sleep."
"Why?"
"I found out there's a secret execution out for both of us. I-I was going to tell you in the morning."
Sukuna very nearly laughed. Almost. "That's it? That's all it is?"
You looked at him completely seriously. "I'm not worried that you're going to die, I'm not stupid."
"What, then?" He asked.
You hesitated, then muttered, "I'm scared that they're going to turn their backs on us, and then all of this won't be worth anything to you, and you'll toss it all aside- toss me aside- and I'll lose you. That the agreement won't be important anymore and then none of this time together will matter."
Sukuna was stunned. Genuinely stunned, just like he had been on that very first day he'd met you.
You really cared that deeply about him? And he'd really doubted that you did?
He forced himself to mutter some normal responses.
"I'll kill anyone that tries to touch you, let alone harm a hair on your head. You are stronger than those pathetic sorcerers that would dare to do such a thing. I will split the world into pieces before they get the chance. The entirety of the jujutsu world is nothing compared to the power that you and I hold. You have the force of an empire at your behest, because I will not turn my back on you."
Normal responses for him, anyway.
You listened to him quietly, looking at him as he spoke. Sukuna's words were always slightly alarming, but you'd learned to see the comfort in them. He never lied. You knew that, to him, his strength was the greatest thing he could offer you. And so it was the greatest comfort when he goes on his little murderous tirades the moment you present him with a new target.
In the face of your attentive quiet, Sukuna found himself drifting away from the topic slightly. "It truly astonishes me that, after all that you've done for the jujutsu world, it could still turn its back on you. You have sacrificed so much. I told you it wasn't worth it and that they didn't deserve your energy, yet you continued to prioritise their collective welfare over your own. This is the price that you get for that goodness." His voice grew an edge as he grew more and more angry. "You should be good. I admire that you're good. It infuriates me when that's thrown in your face. It's something I would do, why are those self-righteous sorcerers doing it?"
A look of genuine anger crossed your face. Sukuna stopped talking, unsure of what he said that would make you mad.
"No, 'kuna, that's not the kind of thing you would do," you frowned. "You would never do that. You'd be more inclined to kill me directly. You wouldn't stoop to that low of throwing my effort back in my face, by encouraging people that I know, friends, to kill me."
And then Sukuna was getting angrier. "Don't say that," he growled. "Don't you dare use words like 'kill' and 'you' in the same fucking sentence when you're speaking to me."
Both of you glared at each other like petulant children. Slowly, the silence lengthened and then shifted as you realised that neither of you were angry for an actual reason anymore. Your eyes met his and you realised that he'd come to the same realisation.
You cracked first. You always did when it came to things like this. Despite your best effort to keep pouting, a giggle broke free.
At the first sign of your smile, Sukuna's anger completely disappeared. He was so obviously delighted to see you happy that it made your heart hurt. His arms wrapped around you and he held you close, chin resting on your shoulder.
He was so grateful. Grateful, grateful, grateful.
Your arms wrapped around him too, as tightly as you could. Sukuna always liked it when you held him. That was why you always woke up with him in your arms.
But he only had to pull back slightly to know that you were still upset about the execution. He gazed down at you for a few seconds, and then made his mind up. He would love you. That would make you feel better, if he could just figure out which demonstration of his love was the right one.
When Sukuna thought about how he loved you, he didn't think about telling you in some romantic gesture: I've always loved you, my darling angel. He didn't think about sweeping you off your feet with a kiss, holding your trembling body against his as he pulled soft gasps from your lips. Both thoughts made him smile.
No, that wasn't what Sukuna's love looked like.
He had hold of your hips again. He stood up, with you still attached, then set you on your feet. His hand slid into yours and he pulled you into the kitchen. Without an explanation, he pottered around the small space, pouring out your current favourite drink.
Then, when it was safely in your hands, he found the phone and started to play your music, the songs that he'd noticed you listening to most recently. He watched you like a hawk as you gratefully sipped your drink. But, when you smiled at him, he shook his head.
He turned and switched the oven on, found the cookbook, and tugged you over.
"Bake."
You looked taken aback, but you could see that he was serious, even if you didn't understand why. Dutifully, you began to mix a cookie batter. Sukuna hovered behind you the entire time. When you slid the cookies out of the oven, he switched into his true form, giving you no time to adjust to something you'd only seen a few times in the whole year you'd been together, and sat down on the floor. You were pulled firmly into his lap so that you could comfortably eat your cookie near the heat of the oven.
He watched you, even when you finally noticed how fierce his gaze was and looked up. He let you feed him a piece of your cookie, letting out a pleased hum of approval. Sukuna smiled when that soft interaction made you more happy than the whole process of baking had.
But you weren't better yet.
Sukuna stood up, changing back into his normal form, but keeping you in his arms. He carried you into the bathroom and started to pour out a bath. When he noticed you looking for the soap, he caught your wrist and tugged you to his side.
"Don't do anything."
You were confused, but you did as he asked, watching curiously as he pulled out a small box from the top of the linen closet. "What's that?"
"I was saving it," he murmured, opening it and letting you see inside.
It was full of special shampoos, conditioners, soaps, and bath bombs. He was saving it only partly because he knew a time would come for them. Mostly because he had never figured out quite how to explain that he knew your favourite smells and what would work in your hair or with your skin.
He was so busy checking that everything was fine that it wasn't until he turned to you to ask you to check the water temperature that he realised you were looking at him with something in your eyes that he didn't think he'd ever seen before.
You didn't give him a chance to ask about it. You stepped up to him and gave him a tight hug. He could tell that you were putting as much force into it as you physically could, so he didn't laugh when he effortlessly held you tighter. He held you close until you tipped your head back to look at him.
"Will you help me?"
Sukuna nodded, fingers sliding to your collar. He unbuttoned your shirt deftly, then slid it down your arms. He folded it and put it on the nearest surface, then gently pulled your shorts down your legs. He set that down too. Then he was inhaling the scent of your hair as he leaned over you, his fingers unclasping your bra. He was bending slightly so that he could hook his fingers in your panties and pull them down.
In the back of his mind, it registered that this was the first time he'd ever seen you this exposed. It was the first time he'd touched you here, seen you there. But it didn't really feel like a first time. It felt like this was normal, like it wasn't a big deal for him to do this. Like you had always been his in this way, and he had always been yours in this way.
His warm hands were on you as you climbed into the bath. One on your hip, feeling the curve of your waist, and the other on your wrist, both making sure that you were safe and not in any danger of slipping. 
He might have nearly laughed at the prospect of a secret execution coming close to harming you, but the idea of you hurting yourself normally plagues him every day. There've been hundreds of times that he's insisted he use his RCT on you for little scrapes that you've gotten. Hundreds of times that you've had the same discussion where he's insisted that you're careless with yourself and you've said you're just clumsy and he's called you a stupid idiot and you've shut him up with a bright smile and an I've got you to help, though, right?
Sukuna watched you warily as he let go of you. He waited as you slid all the way under the water, staying under for a few seconds before sliding back up. His hands were on your face before you even had a chance to lift your own, thumbs swiping away the water from your eyes and brushing your hair out of your face. When you looked up at him, face clear of water, Sukuna finally looked relieved. This was the thing that helped, then. This was the part of his love that would make you happier and less stressed.
But that wasn't enough for him. He wanted happy, not happier.
He pushed his robe over his shoulders, letting it hang around his waist. Then he walked around behind you, sinking to his knees on the tiled floor. Without a word, he reached for your head, silently insisting on doing your hair for you. Neither of you spoke for a while. He ran the shampoo and conditioner through, then began to brush your hair. 
"You've gotten so good at managing it," you mumbled, eyes closed happily.
Sukuna grunted. "Managing what?"
"Your force. It doesn't hurt when you're doing something like brushing my hair, but it used to hurt when you even laid a hand on my arm."
He smiled, glad to hear you say it. He'd already known he had improved a lot, but it felt worth so much more to hear it from your lips.
He finished with your hair. The next step seemed obvious, but he had the awareness that, no matter how intimate this all seemed, he couldn't go further without murmuring something.
Quietly, he said, "I'll bathe your body now."
"Okay."
That soft, mumbled agreement made his heart swell. He rose to his feet and found your hand under the water, pulling you to your feet. You let out a soft protest as he made you stand up in the bath. His warm hands on your skin eased the chill almost right away.
Sukuna focussed incredibly hard. He had to make sure that he did this right, that he treated your body with the reverence he believed it deserved. That his soapy hands graced every part of your soft, blemished skin. That nothing he did hurt you.
And his intense concentration meant that he failed to notice the way that you were watching him again. This time, because you'd recognised the look in his eyes, and you were admiring the way that his hands looked against your skin.
"Happy?" You chuckled after a while. Your teasing voice broke him out of his reverie.
He looked up, smiling slightly. "Yes. Are you?"
"Mhm." You slid back into the water, letting out a content sigh. 
Sukuna wasn't really surprised when your hand found his wrist and tugged. Nor, when your pretty lips parted with a soft question.
"Will you get in, Sukuna?"
He nodded. His hand slipped out of yours so that he could loosen his robe and let it fall completely. He nudged you forwards and then climbed into the tub behind you. Sukuna rested his hands on your hips, but he let you be the one to decide whether or not you slid back or not. When you did, he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in your neck.
"D'you want me to wash you?" You asked.
His reply came out like an admonishment. "No, foolish woman. You're the one that needed comforting. Stop trying to do things for everyone else all the time. Be selfish. Have you no self-respect?"
He was lucky that you knew him and his favouritism well enough to just smile over your shoulder at him.
All of the times he'd thought oh, shit to himself converged. He stared at your content smile, at the soft way you looked at him. And everything aligned in his mind and, this time, he just said it out loud.
"Oh, shit."
You looked at him in confusion, then laughed. "What?"
"You're beautiful," Sukuna stated simply. "You fill the gaps that I can't fill myself. You're the one that's meant to be by my side."
When your smile broadened and you leaned back into him again, he didn't mind that it took you a while to reply. He didn't feel nervous. Sukuna knew for certain that you understood him and you understood the weight and sincerity in his words. He didn't have any fear that you were something he could lose this way. The only thing he could lose you to was death, and he'd already begun making sure that wouldn't happen.
When your reply came, it was all he'd really wanted to hear.
"'Sukuna?"
"Mm."
"I love you."
"I know. I love you."
"I know."
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he's softer than melting ice cream but i can't help it I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!! i hope you guys don't mind sappy sukuna, i'm planning to write something a little less OC soon. that's the final part to this series!
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stellar-constellations · 9 months ago
Text
Star Patient: Chapter 2 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)
WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.
Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).
Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.
Incest is not Wincest.
Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:
Wordcount: 4,625 words
Chapters: Chapter 1, Current chapter, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)
Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!
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        (Y/N) adjusted the name tag on her shirt as she walked to the hospital's entrance, her other hand holding some books and a DS. 
        Rachael's appointment should be starting soon. I need to hurry so I don't be late. She thought as she sped up.
        A security guard was outside guarding the hospital doors but once noticing (Y/N), he stopped her.
        "You need to go to the psychiatric branch immediately." They spoke.
        "...Huh?" She muttered audibly. "Oh... No, sir. I work in the pediatric branch with Doctor Ryan, he's my superior. You're mistaking me for someone else."
        "No, miss. Andrew Graves from room 402 wants to see you now." The security guard reaffirmed. 
        "...H-he does? That's just... great!" she smiled nervously, a terrified expression on her face.
        HE KNOWS I KNOW ABOUT HIM! She screamed in her head.
        "Get going before he breaks any more staff equipment." The security guard pressed on.
        "Okay, okay!" (Y/N) sighed, rushing into the hospital and to the elevators.
        She pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come down, walking into it and pressing the fourth floor button. She waited impatiently for the doors to open and rushed out when they finally did, heading towards the staff room. She unlocked the staff door and filled her bag with medical supplies: a mediscope, a stethoscope, a bottle of water and a bag of pretzels.
        She clocked in and sped-walked to Andrew's door, room 402, and hesitated before knocking on the door.
        "Go away!" Andrew shouted.
        "Hey there! It's me! (Y/N)? From last night?" she called out, her nervousness evident in her voice.
        "You can come in." Andrew spoke almost too quickly.
        Damn it... She thought to herself, before taking a deep breath and entering the room.
        He never corrected me last night when I gave him pet names, so they worked with calming him down. She noted.
        "Hi, star! I heard you've been causing some trouble." (Y/N) smiled, her smile twitching slightly, her voiced sounding a little muffled to him.
        Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but then paused. Why did he need to see her so badly? 
        "M... My head." He muttered. "It hurts. I need you to look at it." 
        (Y/N) couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her throat as she walked over to him. Her nerves were still on fire, but not as much as they were earlier seeing how quiet and flustered he'd gotten.
        "Did you do anything strenuous?" she questioned.
        "Ashley and I started arguing, then she grabbed my hair and shook my head back and forth." Andrew explained.
        (Y/N) wanted so badly to coddle him. To hold him in her arms and dote over him. It’s a bad habit she really needs to break, but the weird part is that she only acted towards that to people she really really liked—romantically. Anyone else she’d feel extremely annoyed and angry (unless it was children, they’re her soft spot). 
        She wants to have him laying on her body with his head in her chest as she petted his hair, cooing soft sweet reassurances into his ears so that he’d feel better.
        What the hell is wrong with me?! she thought, her face and body heating up, a bright red forming.
        I’m only thinking this because he’s obviously being treated like shit by his sister. Poor Andrew can’t even stand up for himself against her (literally). She thought.
        “Oh, Andrew. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why anybody would do that to you.” She pouted, her body acting on its own as her hands went up and gently grabbing his face, caressing the sides delicately as she looked into his eyes.
        His eyes were wide and green, laced with surprise as his face was red, looking as if he was a Christmas decoration with the bright festive colors.
        “W-what are you doing?!” he exclaimed, grabbing her arms and pulling away from her, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
        “Oh! I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” she questioned worriedly.
        “N-no! You… you were really close..” Andrew claimed, covering his face with his hands.
        Aw! He’s so cute when he’s flustered! (Y/N) thought to herself, a smile breaking out onto her face.
        WHAT AM I THINKING? HE’S A WANTED MAN (by the cops and me, it seems)! HE’S MY PATIENT TOO! I SHOULDN’T BE DOING THIS WITH HIM! she screeched in here head.
        “I’m sorry! I got too carried away…” She chuckled nervously, her nails digging into her palms as punishment. "I usually work with children as you know, and they appreciate the action. I acted on impulse.
        “W-whatever…” Andrew muttered, his face still not completely cooled off.
        “Let’s try this again.” She smiled awkwardly.
        She tilted Andrews’s chin up (causing wave of red to hit his face just before the other one subsided) and reached into her medical bag, pulling out her mediscope.
        “Keep your eyes open.” She instructed, following the same procedures as she did yesterday. “Now open wide.” She directed, pointing the light into his mouth. “Stay still.” She spoke as she looked into his ears.
        She noticed blood in them and sighed.
        “Either your sister ruptured your eardrums with all her yelling, or she caused the internal bleeding in your head to get worse. You’re going to need surgery for that.” She explained. 
        “Aw… damn it…” Andrew muttered.
        No wonder his hearing was a little muffled.
        “I mean, it was about time for the surgeons to get your legs done! They only got your ankles bandaged up, but they haven’t had surgery on your legs yet.” (Y/N) explained. 
        “I really can’t afford it...” Andrew muttered softly to himself, but (Y/N) heard it.
        He can’t afford it? Makes sense since he said he doesn’t have anywhere to go, so I doubt he has a home. She thought to herself before a stupid idea flashed in her mind. What if I… have him stay with me after he’s well enough to leave? she quickly shook the idea out of her head. 
        No way! He’s a wanted man! But… I haven’t called the cops on him yet, so I’m already committing a crime. Who cares if I get more years to my sentence for housing this man under my roof, feeding, sheltering, and spending time (loving) with him? she thought. 
        “Don’t worry about it, I feel we’ll find a way!” (Y/N) beamed. “Now, here’s the deal. I’m going to get the doctors to get surgery done on you, then when your head is all better and dandy, I’ll show you the collection of books and video games I specifically picked out for you~” she spoke, dragging her tone out to make the deal appeal more tempting.
        Specially picked out? Andrew thought.
        His interest was piqued instantly.
        “Yeah, whatever…” Andrew huffed, crossing his arms and adverting his head to the side.
        “Great! You’ll behave and listen to what they say, right?” She questioned a little sternly, her hands on her hips.
        “…Yes…” Andrew hissed through his teeth reluctantly.
        “Alright. I’ll be right back.” She smiled, walking out of the room.
        A few minutes later she came in rolling a wheelchair and a security guard. 
        “Careful with him now.” She instructed to the guard. 
        The guard picked up Andrew and placed him on the wheelchair, dropping him a little carelessly and causing him to wince.
        “Oi! I said careful!” (Y/N) snapped, resisting the urge to hit the guard in the back of the head.
        “Sorry, ma’am…” the guard muttered. 
        The guard rolled Andrew out of the room and followed as (Y/N) walked around the hospital aimlessly, forgetting where the neurologic branch was.
        “Ma’am… are you lost?” the guard asked.
        “No!” she quickly declared before looking around. “I’m testing you to know if you’re paying attention.”
        “I’ve been here for five years.” He deadpanned.
        “…I have to keep your mind sharp.” She claimed weakly. “But lead the way please, since you’re so confident.” 
        She followed the guard and Andrew as they headed to the correct branch. She knocked on the staff’s door then unlocked it with her key.
        “Hello!” she smiled.
        “It’s lunch break for us. What?” one of the surgeons questioned rudely.
        “Be nice! There’s a patient.” A younger surgeon spoke, peeking from over the surgeon's shoulder. “How can we help?”
        “Andrew here has internal bleeding in his brain and we need surgery done pronto.” She ordered.
        “Lunch break~” the older surgeon sang, taking a bite out of his food.
        “Pink slip~” she sung back. “I’ll get you fired for rejecting care to a patient in need. He’s your top priority right now, so get him on that operating table.” She ordered. "Please."
        What’s with all the nurses and doctors here? Andrew thought to himself, not exactly believing the healthcare here is the safest.
        Well, that should be expected considering his old town's doctors had ads recommending euthanasia for suicidal people.
        “Fine.” They sighed.
        “I’ll be back in three hours okay? By then your surgery should be done. You listen to their instructions, okay?” she spoke, patting Andrew on the shoulder before leaving.
        I’m left with these guys? Andrew thought, watching (Y/N) leave him alone.
        While Andrew got prepped for his surgery, (Y/N) had other matters to attend to. She checked her watch.
        Rachael’s appointment is just about done and Joseph’s will be on in ten minutes. I can make it in time for Joesph. She thought, racing to the elevator and hopping in.
        She hit the second button and watched as the doors closed, waiting impatiently for them to open up. She ran out and to Doctor Ryan’s office, room 213. 
        She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds for the affirmative. 
        “Come in.” Doctor Ryan called out.
        (Y/N) opened the door and saw it was only Doctor Ryan.
        So I missed the lesson… she thought, letting out a groan.
        “I’m sorry, sir. I had to attend to patient 402.” She sighed.
        “I heard about it. Seems like you got a secret admirer.” Doctor Ryan teased as he cleaned the seats in the room with a Clorox wipe. 
        “Har har har…” She laughed sarcastically. “But I do apologize about it. I wasn’t expecting to go to him until after my shift.”
        “Yeah, I heard he has quite a temper with anyone but you.” Doctor smiled.
        “Don’t start it.” I sighed, ignoring the sudden increase of my heartbeat. “Anything planned for Joseph? Or is it a typical check-up?” 
        “After his check-up you’re going to give him a flu shot.” Doctor explained.
        “Oh… no thanks…” She smiled nervously. “I don’t do good with needles.”
        I almost puked when I had to give a shot to a test dummy back in my college test room… She thought, the memory making her queasy already.
        “You’ll do fine. Now go get him.” Doctor Ryan smiled.
        (Y/N) sighed and grabbed a clipboard and pen Doctor Ryan readied for her and walked out of the room, making her way to the waiting room. She opened the door and cleared her throat.
        “Joseph Stall?” she called out.
        A set of adults and their son stood up, walking towards her and into the hallway.
        “Hey there! Turn right and go to the scale.” She smiled politely as she closed the door being him.
        She followed them to the scale and readied her clipboard.
        “Alright, take off your shoes and step on the scale, please.” (Y/N) requested.
        Joesph complied and took off his blue crocs, standing on the scale. She wrote down his weight.
        52 pounds, in the average zone. 
        “Now step off the scale and stand up straight.” She instructed.
        Joesph fixed his posture and stood up straight in front of the wall’s ruler.
        3’9” feet, also average height for his age. She noted, writing it down. 
        “Alright. Let’s go to our room. Follow me, please.” (Y/N) spoke.
        She guided them to Doctor Ryan’s room, 214, and opened the door.
        “Hey! Come take a seat.” Doctor Ryan beamed.
        Joesph used a step stool to get up on the terribly cushioned bed and waited for the doctors instructions.
        “(Y/N), do your thing.” Doctor Ryan nodded.
        “Alrighty. Let’s start by checking your eyes.” She smiled, pulling out her mediscope.
        She got close and looked at his eyes, seeing no trouble whatsoever.
        “And your mouth. Say ‘aaaah’” She spoke, giving an example.
        “Aaaah.” Joesph voiced. 
        “And your ears.” She spoke, getting to his side and looking into them.
        Nothing. All dandy.
        “Looks good.” She smiled, putting her mediscope back into her bag.
        She grabbed a reflex hammer from Doctor Ryan’s hand and moved to Joesph’s side so she wasn’t in front of him. She gave him a gentle tap on his knee, causing his knee to kick slightly.
        “Good. Now your heart.” She gave the hammer back to the doctor and grabbed her stethoscope, bringing it to Joesph’s chest and listening to his heart.
        She stared at the clock as she waited 15 seconds and counted the beats, multiplying it by four.
        96 beats per minute. That’s in the normal range. 
        “Alright, now take a big deep breath in.” She instructed, bringing her stethoscope to his lung.
        She listened to the his inhaling and his lungs.
        “Now exhale.” She instructed, listening. “Inhale again… now exhale.” She spoke. “Alright. You’re perfectly fine. Is there any health concerns you’re worrying about?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at his parents.
        “Nope.” His mother spoke. 
        “And all we’re doing is the flu shot, correct?” she questioned.
        “Yep.” His mother agreed.
        “Great.” She smiled, resisting the urge to frown. 
        I hate hurting kids like this. She thought.
        She walked to the tray Doctor Ryan prepared for her, taking a small package and ripping out the alcohol wipe. 
        “Left or right arm?” she questioned.
        “Left.” Joesph spoke.
        “Okay…” She muttered, mentally preparing herself for the kid’s tears.
        She wiped his shoulder with the alcohol wipe and grabbed the needle, removing the safety cap and checking for any air bubbles.
        “Ready?” she questioned.
        “Yep.” The kid replied, looking at the needle.
        She stuck the needle into his shoulder and injected the vaccine by pressing down the thumb press, then pulled away. 
        “All done!” she beamed with a smile, exaggerating her voice to let the kid know he was okay.
        The kid stared blankly before nodding.
        Wow, kid took it better than I do. What a champ… She thought to herself. 
        “Spiderman or my little pony?” She questioned, grabbing a box of bandages.
        “My little pony.” The kid responded.
        “Great choice. One of my favorites.” (Y/N) smiled, opening the band-aid and lined the cotton with his small wound, gently pressing it down. “And here’s a sticker for being my star patient today!” she smiled, reaching into her bag and pulling out a pink star sticker.
        “Thank you.” The kid smiled, taking the sticker.
        “You’re free to go. Reception is on the left, they'll schedule your next appointment for you.” She directed. 
        The family walked out and (Y/N) sighed, taking the needle and reattaching the cap, placing it into the sharp objects box. 
        “See? Wasn’t so bad.” Doctor Ryan smiled.
        “I hate needles…” She sighed. 
        “Hey, do you call all your patients that? Star patient?” Doctor Ryan questioned.
        “Yeah? It makes them feel special and happy. It releases a rewarding stimulant into their brains, the pain killer.” She explained.
        “I bet patient 402 sure liked that…” Doctor Ryan snickered. 
        “Oh, we’re still on this topic, huh?” (Y/N) smiled, placing her hands on her hips.
        “I mean, you’re not changing the subject so…” Doctor Ryan laughed as she shook her head.
        “Any other patients you squeezed into today’s schedule? Or just walk-ins from a here?” (Y/N) questioned.
        “Free to do anything until we get alerted.” Doctor Ryan smiled.
        “Ah, great.” She nodded, looking down at her watch.
        It’s only been thirty minutes since I last saw Andrew. And I really hate waiting around and doing nothing, I’ll go visit Hailey. She thought to herself.
        She walked out of the room and out of the walk-in clinic, heading to the room admissions. She made it to room 433 and gently knocked on the door.
        “Come in.” A weak voice exclaimed.
        “Hey there, hails! How are you?” (Y/N) questioned, opening the door and closing it behind them for privacy.
        “Hi, Ms. (Y/N).” Hailey smiled.
        Hailey was a small girl diagnosed with leukemia at seven. It’s been three years now since diagnosed and at the moment she’s in stage 3. (Y/N) finds it heartbreaking to watch the blonde girl’s appearance diminishing; her eyes sinking in, her hair growing wire-like and withered, her skin and cheekbones pale and sullen, and her arms and legs losing fat. Her appearance isn’t the only thing fading away, but her hope of surviving it too.
        “Would you like some water? It’s still cold.” She offered, already reaching into her bag.
        “Yes, please. I’m quite thirsty.” She smiled weakly.
        (Y/N) nodded and twisted open the bottle’s cap, bringing the drink to the girls lips. Hailey took small sips before raising her arm slightly, signaling no more. (Y/N) moved the bottle, twisting the cap back on weakly so Hailey could open it later.
        “Are you hungry too?” she questioned.
        “Not at the moment.” Hailey answered.
        “I’ll leave these here for later.” (Y/N) spoke, reaching into her bag and placing down a bag of pretzels on Hailey’s nightstand.
        “How do you feel?” (Y/N) questioned.
        Right now it wasn’t a normal survey (interrogation) she would give other patients, it was two friends catching up.
        “Better than I can be.” Hailey smiled.
        Even though Hailey was ten, she knew very well she was dying. It didn’t scare her as much as she thought it would. Her parents slowly stopped visiting less and less, too brokenhearted at their daughter’s rapid-approaching fate. The only visitors she got now was from her check-up nurses and (Y/N). 
        “Hey, I got you some new books. You liked that last one, yeah?” (Y/N) smiled, pulling out a book from her bag.
        “I enjoyed the ending. I liked Charlie’s bravery and courage.” Hailey commented.
        “I figured you would. She reminds me of you. Resilient and strong.” (Y/N) smiled, handing her a new book.
        “Aw… thanks.” Hailey blushed, the red in her face from the compliment looked as if it could be her normal skin tone, accepting the new book.
        “This book is about a library where all the different possibilities in your life that you could’ve had by making a choice, gets played out for you. I figured you’d like it since it’s fantasy.” She smiled.
        “Thank you.” Hailey smiled, looking fondly at the cover.
        “I’ll leave you to read the first few chapters. Want a sticker before I leave?” she questioned, already knowing the answer.
        “Yes, please.” Hailey nodded.
        (Y/N) reached into her bag and looked for a green star, finding one and handing it to Hailey to add to her growing collection that laid on her nightstand. 
        “Make sure to ring the button if you need anything. I’ll see you later, hails.” (Y/N) beamed, walking away from her.
        She opened Hailey’s door and walked out, closing it behind her. She looked at her watch, seeing it’s been an hour since she left Andrew.
        Two more. She thought to herself. Man, time seems slow today…
        (Y/N) sighed and stood there for a second, deciding what to do.
        I’ll go back to the walk-in clinic. She decided.
        She turned and walked away from Hailey’s room, she’ll return in a few hours to see how Hailey likes the book. She opened the two doors leading to the clinic, making her way to the back rooms and finding Doctor Ryan.
        “Oh, just when I was about to call you.” Doctor Ryan smiled.
        “Is there a problem?” she questioned.
        “You remember how to stitch, right?” he smiled.
        “Stitch wounds… yes…” She sighed, sucking in a breath to put her happy face on.
        “Come on, let’s get this done.” Doctor smiled, leading her to his office.
        (Y/N) walked in and took note of the situation, seeing a distressed boy a bloodied towel that was applying pressure to his forearm.
        “Hey, bud. I’m (Y/N). What’s your name?” she questioned, keeping the kid company as Doctor Ryan prepared a tray of tools for (Y/N) that she needed.
        “Cody.” The little blond boy rasped out, small tears in his eyes.
        “What happened to you?” she spoke calmly so the kid can copy her tone.
        “He had a fishin' accident with me. Got the hook hooked into ‘is skin and he ripped it out while preppin' for tomorrow.” The father sighed with his accent, covering his eyes with his cowboy hat to hide his shame.
        “No worries, accidents happen.” She smiled.
        “I really should’ve been watchin’ though.” The cowboy huffed.
        “C’mere dad, you can hold his hand.” (Y/N) encouraged.
        The cowboy sighed and stood up from his seat, walking over and holding his son’s left hand, his uninjured one.
        “Are you left-handed or right-handed?” she questioned, accepting the tray of supplies and placing it next to Cody.
        “Right.” The kid spoke.
        “Well, you might have to learn how to write with your left hand after this. But that’s okay, all the kids in school will think you’re so cool, along with the scar you’ll get too if you get one.” She smiled, gently removing the towel and placing it to the side.
        The kid has a nasty chunk of flesh ripped out of him from the hook. Either the dad or Cody panicked and ripped the hook out. Well, it's sure leave a scar.
        She looked at Cody’s elbow and felt for a vein. She found one and held her thumb on it, grabbing a syringe of lidocaine from the tray and popping the cap, checking for any air bubbles.
        “Look at dad.” (Y/N) instructed. 
        Once Cody looked away, (Y/N) removed her thumb from the vein and replaced it with the syringe’s needle instead, injecting the pain killer.
        Now we have to wait a few minutes, she thought.
        “Do you play any sports?” (Y/N) questioned, grabbing alcohol wipes to remove the bacteria from the fishing hook’s nasty ends.
        “I play football with my brothers.” Cody explained.
        “This’ll hurt real quick.” She warned. “And how many brothers do you have?” she questioned, wiping off the excess blood and grime, resisting the urge to cringe as Cody hissed and held tightly onto his father’s hand.
        “Three.” Cody answered.
        “Are you the oldest, youngest, or middle?” she questioned, wiping inside the wound a little to be extra certain it wouldn’t get infected.
        “Youngest.” Cody answered.
        “Do you go to school or are you home-schooled?” she questioned, grabbing her medical needle and thread and tying the thread inside of the needle’s hole.
        “I go to public school.” Cody responded.
        “Feel any pain in your arm? Or has it gone down?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at Cody’s face.
        “Gone down.” Cody answered.
        “Good. I’m going to start sewing up your wound, I want you to talk to me or your dad while doing it.” She explained. “You ready?”
        “Yeah.” Cody sighed.
        “Do you get good grades?” (Y/N) questioned, pinching the skin together and sewing up the skin and fat, deciding to go for buried sutures to get the job done.
        “Yeah.” Cody nodded.
        “Do you like school?” she questioned.
        “It’s okay.” Cody spoke, shrugging his head to the left since he couldn’t with his arms.
        “I didn’t like school much either.” (Y/N) admitted. “I didn’t like waking up early. I’m glad I work at night now.” 
        The cowboy redirected his attention from Cody and looked down at her and smiled.
        “Where I grew up, we had a farm and got up at 4 o’ clock to work on it. I was homeschooled in the south.” He explained.
        “You have more strength than me, getting up so early.” (Y/N) joked. “You too, Cody. I dislike needles. Whenever I have to get a shot, I cry like a baby.” 
        “Trust me, she does. I gave her one for her practice.” Doctor Ryan teased.
        “You’re in school?” the cowboy questioned.
        “Yup. That man is my superior teaching me the ropes.” (Y/N) explained, referring to Doctor Ryan who sat back and watched the procedure carefully to make sure she was doing it right.
        “I wanted to go to college but my family couldn’t afford it. Hopefully it’s a different story for Cody.” The cowboy smiled, ruffling his son’s hair. 
        “Especially with all the programs now for the youth, gives the younger generation a better chance for college.” (Y/N) pointed out. “Is there anything you want to be when you grow up? Like a professional football player or a doctor?” she questioned, shifting her tone so Cody knew she was talking to him since she couldn’t look away from her stitching work.
        “Construction worker!” Cody declared.
        “Ooo, are you going to build tall buildings?” (Y/N) questioned, entertaining the boy and keeping him busy. 
        “Yeah.” Cody replied.
        He didn’t seem like crying anymore, the painkillers help shoo off the pain, for now at least. She thought.
        "And... ta dah! You're all done, Cody!" (Y/N) beamed. 
        "Woah! It looks so cool!" Cody smiled.
        "Let's get some bandages on that, so it doesn't get infected. In two or three days, you can take the bandages off. In ten days, come back here and we'll check and see if the stitches can be removed.” (Y/N) explained. “Does that sound good?” she questioned, redirecting her attention to her superior.
        “Perfect, perfect! As per usual!” Doctor Ryan smiled.
        “Thanks!” (Y/N) smiled, flattered at the praise. “Now, what color star would you like?” 
        “Blue.” Cody smiled.
        “Here ya go!” she hummed, grabbing the stickers from her bag and pulling out a blue star, handing it to Cody.
        “See ya in ten days, lil lady.” The cowboy smiled, titling his hat before holding his son’s hand.
        “See ya! Reception is on the left. Make sure to be careful!” (Y/N) waved.
        “Ahem!” Doctor Ryan coughed into his hand over-exaggeratedly. 
        “Yes?” (Y/N) questioned, confused on if she did something wrong,
        “I don’t think patient 402 would be happy with all that flirting going on.” The doctor teased playfully. "You were awfully talkative with the dad."
        “Woah now. He has kids and is like 30, I’m too young to settle down like that. There was no flirting, only polite talk.” She explained.
        "Sure thing, lil lady." Doctor Ryan chuckled, earning an unamused glare.
        She ignored him, checking her watch, catching his attention.
        “Oh, your shift isn’t near over.” The doctor laughed.        
        “No, I wanted to see how long until I had to go see Andrew.” (Y/N) explained, waiting for Doctor Ryan’s teasing remarks.
        “I see. How scandalous.” He chuckled.
        “Hardy har har har.” (Y/N) laughed sarcastically. “I have an hour and thirty minutes left. But everything feels like it’s taking so long.” She sighed.
        “Here, why don’t you do a run around the hospital? It’s lunch time. You can bring the lunch trays to all the patients!” Doctor Ryan suggested.
        “That’s a good idea. Have someone radio in and call off all the lunch ladies to serve lunch, I’ll do it all myself.” She nodded, smiling.
        “I meant this branch. The whole hospital is a little excessive.” Doctor Ryan deadpanned.
        “No, no. I got this. Besides, I need my steps in.” She spoke. “See ya later!” she waved, taking off.
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The second chapter for this is done! This series will also be posted on AO3 and Wattpad!
Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!
Inbox is OPENfor questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!
Chapters: Chapter 1, current chapter, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)
Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!
212 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 4 months ago
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frankie
for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'freak'
rated t | 930 words | cw: temporary character death | tags: canon-adjacent events, frankie pov, eddie munson lives
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Frankie doesn't think he's a freak. He knows he's not the typical teenager, but he definitely knows there's weirder dudes out there.
Take Eddie Munson, for example. He's fuckin' weird.
He knows people call him a freak for a lot of reasons: he's got long hair, likes heavy metal, plays DnD, and is allegedly queer.
Frankie stays under the radar as much as possible, but he ends up at Eddie's table, sitting next to his one and only friend, Jeff. Eddie's starting a DnD club, needs people who are serious about playing long campaigns. He's a senior and "wants to leave a legacy."
Jeff convinces him to try it out.
He tries it out.
He has fun.
He becomes a freak, too.
And, actually, Eddie isn't really a freak. He's eccentric, sure, but he's definitely not what everyone implies when they call him that.
He's kind in his own way, inviting to people where most other kids at school have their cliques and don't let anyone else in. He's funny, too, sometimes completely unintentionally.
His Uncle is nice enough to let them use their trailer for campaigns, at least until Eddie is able to convince the school to let them use the storage room in the auditorium. They have to fight for space, especially when it comes time for the end of year drama club performance.
Frankie doesn't think much about what will happen when Eddie graduates. He assumed Jeff will run the club since he's Eddie's right hand man.
But Eddie doesn't graduate.
Frankie starts to get into the same music as him, no longer worried about wearing his Black Sabbath shirt to school. It's just music.
He doesn't worry about shaving his head, letting his natural curls grow out a little.
Maybe he's more of a freak than he thought, but it doesn't bother him when he hears others whisper it under their breath. Eddie wears it like a badge of honor, and now he does too.
****
When the news reports that Eddie is the suspect in the murder of Chrissy Cunningham, Frankie knows they've got it wrong.
Eddie is a lot of things, he's a freak, he's different. But he's not a murderer.
He's also gay as fuck, and while very few people know that, Frankie knows he had no intentions with that girl other than to sell to her. Maybe he should have been more careful, but he's gotten away with it this long. Eddie never pushes anything on anyone, only sells to those who seek him out, so there's no way she wasn't the one who wanted drugs.
It seemed to Frankie like a wrong place, wrong time situation for all involved.
Eddie was missing, which means he got scared and ran, and Frankie isn't sure what that means for any of them.
Everything is hanging in a weird balance for days.
Gareth swears he saw him in an RV when his parents dragged him to The War Zone, but no one believed him. Frankie didn't not believe him, he just figured Eddie was probably already out of the state.
Guilty people may run, but so do innocent people with a bounty on their head.
***
Frankie doesn't think Eddie is coming back.
He sees Dustin crying and handing Wayne something. He sees Steve Harrington of all people in Eddie's vest, a vest that now has some suspicious stains on it.
No one mentions him for a while.
Gareth is a mess, and Jeff keeps saying that he'll come back, but the news spreads that he's dead and Frankie feels like he's the only one who is taking that seriously. He doesn't realize how much he's hurting until they're standing in Jeff's garage with no idea how to fill the space Eddie left in the band.
"I think we should have auditions," Jeff says quietly.
"I think you should fuck yourself," Gareth bites back.
Jeff sighs. Gareth crosses his arms.
"I think you guys should come with me," Lucas interrupts from the driveway.
They go with him because Frankie is sure he wouldn't have even spoken to them if it wasn't important. They barely talked since everything happened over Spring Break, but now that school's starting up again, they'll need to figure out Hellfire Club.
He leads them out of the neighborhood and towards the neighborhood at the bottom of the hill: Loch Nora. The nice neighborhood.
It's hot and Frankie and Gareth are both sweating by the time they make it to their destination: Steve Harrington's house.
"You guys can't say shit to anyone, got it? You'll put us all at risk." Lucas is glaring at all of them as he knocks in a very specific pattern on the front door.
"Are you leading us to our deaths?" Frankie asks, only half-joking.
"Despite what Mayfield thinks, I'm not gonna kill anyone."
"Eddie!" Gareth yells as he runs past Frankie and Jeff into the house.
"Alright, keep it down." Steve says from the couch. "Neighbors don't need to know he's hiding out here."
"Holy shit, it's good to see you," Jeff finally says as it registers that Eddie is actually in front of them.
"You know, I was prepared to take on the role of freak," Frankie said quietly. "Just to protect all your sheepies."
Eddie smiled at him. "Yeah?"
Frankie nodded.
"Well, you still can. I'm not gonna go back to school anyway."
"So what will you do?" Frankie asked.
"Not sure," Eddie shrugged. "Teach you my ways, I guess."
Frankie smiled at him. "First lesson: how'd you come back from the dead, dude?"
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daandyli0n · 2 months ago
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(warnings: blood/gore, eye contact, child death/murder, alcoholism, underage drinking and smoking, vaguely implied emotional abuse/manipulation (on the second page), disturbing/creepy imagery)
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"Losin' teeth in dreams can mean ya feel that ya don't have control in yer life...Mike, do ya wanna talk about it? Y'know I'm all ears-"
"It probably doesn't fuckin' mean anything, Charles. Besides, it's a dream, man. Just...drop it, 'kay?"
(aka Michael has trauma. and dreams. they escalate from Teeth Nightmares to "All My Friends Are Dead" REALLY fucking quickly)
different dreams Michael has and what they mean:
Losing Teeth: as mentioned by Charlie in the caption, losing teeth in a dream can symbolize feeling as though you don't have any control in your life.
Falling: similarly to losing teeth, it can symbolize a lack of control, or at least the feeling of it.
Dead Loved Ones Being Alive: this one can be. kinda obvious. Grieving. Mike's Grieving His Dead Friends.
The Nightmares: well...originally, Cassidy was the one having The Nightmares...but haunting someone can certainly Do Some Weird Shit (such as transferring nightmares to someone, intentionally or not). (also, the reason that The Nightmares are blurry is because i don't have designs for them just yet)
also, i wanted to sort of like...not directly show William, but wanting to show his Presence is there. that's what all the purple is for :]
also ignore any wonky anatomy. i've had a rough few days
anyway! THE LYRIC COMIC IS FINALLY DONE BOYS! WOO!
time for tags:
@that-darn-clown @hello-there-world @docterzerocare and @fazgoo-connoiseur-1987 ('cause you said you'd be interested in seeing it)
yes i worked on this while the power and internet were out. this along with the internet were why i was gone for a bit. also the power
edit: FUCK FORGOT THE SONG. it's "Kitchen Fork" by Jack Conte
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iszaranothere · 1 year ago
Text
Dialogue prompts but they're things the GameGrumps have said
Struggling to start your scene? Having trouble writing dialogue? Don't worry, I've got you fam. I even sorted them into two catagories, a clean one and a more vulgar one, for your pleasure. If you end up using one of them, by all means tag me in the post, I'd love to see it.
Clean quotes
"And then I fired, and then I missed."
"The bananas has gone bad!"
"BECAUSE HE'S A GREAT KISSER! …Is what I've been told."
"I don't understand why the Chinese don't just use forks and spoons."
"Shutting down. Rebooting."
"There's so many places that aren't Andorra!"
"Jennifer dumped me."
"Did you point? Did you point? DID YOU POINT?!"
"Today is football."
"I'm gonna lay face-down on the radiator."
"Just what the heck is going on here?"
"UNAVOIDABLE CHIN MOVE!"
"The carbuncle ate itself."
"At age six I was born without a face."
"Great to see you again! You must die."
"I'm grapes!"
"Why did my dad birth me?"
"That's crazy. Especially since… who cares."
"I'm the video game boy! I'm the one who wins!"
"Bienvenue powerbottoms!"
"MY DAD WORKS AT NINTENDO!"
"With great confidence comes great wonfidence."
"Get bigger hands!"
"MORE ONION PLEASE."
"Why do I have to suffer in this meat prison?"
"That baby is not a baby, that is a jelly bean with a face."
"I HAS BRO! DO YOU HAS BRO?"
"JUST SOMETHING HAPPEN PLEASE."
Vulgar quotes
"I mean look at the way he slurps up his soup, what an asshole."
"Don't believe me? Look at my resume! Thirty years experience in jacking off!"
"MY DICK'S FALLEN OFF."
"If you shit in a bowl of rice crispies, do they go snap crackle poop?"
"Who needs a blue coin when you got a fucking mental breakdown coming in the back of your head?"
(sing-songy) "My asshole burns 🎶"
"I'm gonna pre dude."
"It's Clifford the big red stab wound."
"You think Sonic shits?"
"What's more in the spirit of Christmas than eating ass?"
"I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking murder your face, fuck you."
"I feel like I just came back from a mythical creature bukkake."
"Plump, sweet and begging for cream!"
"Isn't it weird how at least once a day your hand is touching your asshole?"
"GOD! IT'S SO HARD TO FUCKING FUCK!"
"I was the greatest load my dad ever shot."
"You think I came out of the pussy drawing fucking Mozart?"
"Oh, bump off you bumpin' grasshoe."
"I would fuck anything on this screen, including the animals and the bicycle."
"The only thing I bust are rhymes and nuts."
"Am I about to see your skyward sword?"
"WE WON'T LET THOSE FUCKERS TAKE THIS LAND!"
"I fucked a cantaloupe once."
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