#just a reminder to never prioritize your job | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deleteddewewted · 1 year ago

Text

How To Not Welcome The New Years (MHA)

(MHA Edition x Gn! Reader)

MDNI

W: Everyone is Aged Up (18+), Cheating, Angst, Hurt/Injured, No One Is a Good Person Including the Reader, (C: Bakugou, Shinso, Monoma, Kirishima, Aizawa, and Hawks)

Bakugou

He was always too busy for the smallest of things.

He was too busy to set up a date night.

He was always too busy.

He had no problem doing the interviews he hated but he had an issue if you asked him to go to bed with you if you wanted some affection.

Your relationship was wilting away right under him and he seemed to not care.

You checked out of it already. You were ready for him to end things soon since he didn't bother to get you a present for Christmas and he didn't even come home for the holiday either.

He didn't even bother to open them once he got home and instead went to his office to finish up some reports.

You thought that maybe he would try to put in an effort for New Year's.

His agency always hosts a party for the sidekicks and you, delusionally, thought he would take you.

He left you behind at home to greet the new year.

You called him.

He surprised you when he picked up. In the background, you could hear his friends talking.

Maybe once upon a time, it would hurt that he was prioritizing his friends but you were numb. It no longer mattered.

"What do you need Y/n?" He was annoyed. Maybe it was at you. Maybe it was because of how loud his friends were being. Kirishima could be heard in the background talking about some trip he had planned for after New Year's.

You dont remember the last time he ever took you on a vacation.

"I'm breaking up with you. I'll be out by tonight." You're to the point. There was no reason for you to prolong it.

He fell out of love and you were done with being in love with someone who didn't see you as worth spending his time on.

"W-what?! What are you talking about?"

"Bye Bakugou." You ended the call and began packing.

Your phone kept ringing as you packet. You turned it off after the 5th call.

You had an apartment already. You had it just in case you ended the relationship earlier.

You welcomed the new year alone and walking down the busy and joy-filled streets of Japan, bags in hand and phone turned off.

Shinso

He was so sweet when you both started dating.

He was attentive and patient with you. Never did he raise his voice even when you were in the wrong.

He coddled you and that was something you didn't mind too much as your relationship progressed.

It felt nice to be wanted and to be looked after but it began to change as you both got older and entered your respective careers.

He started snapping at you.

He was angry. He reminded you of Bakugou but he lacked the ego.

The once loving and comforting Shinso was now a brut who came home to get upset with you.

He yelled, he cried. He was frustrated beyond belief. He repeated as much to you.

"You wouldn't understand just how hard my job is." doesn't matter if you worked the same job or not, he always made you feel like you were not as hard-working or as overworked as him.

For the holidays he didn't bother to put on a happy face when you visited your family. He started arguing that you should have gone to his family for the holidays.

For New Years you had hoped he would've appreciated the reservation you made at his favorite restaurant.

You dressed up and made sure to make yourself look and feel good. You liked having an excuse to dress up, try something new, and see what might make him happy.

You both agreed to meet at the restaurant since he was out working.

And when you got there he was in his hero uniform instead of the suit he had said he was going to change into at the agency he worked at.

He was sweaty and dirty, and his hair had stuck to his forehead.

"Shinso, you said that-" You were cut off as he slammed his hand against the table, the drinks that had been set spilling onto the table and onto the floor.

"For fuck sake, Y/n. I just got off of work. Can I please relax?" He snapped at you.

You started the New Year crying. He kept muttering to himself about how upsetting it was that he couldn't eat in peace.

Monoma

He was gentlemanly with you. Always opening the door for you, taking his jacket/hoodie/coat off so you could wear it even if it means that he'd be cold.

He was always attentive even if he was self-centered at times.

As he entered his career he was bombarded with work all at once. He never had a moment for you and when he got home he would say he was tired.

You thought that maybe for the Holidays he would get a break but that wasn’t the case. He was working late, barely answering his phone and sleeping at the agency just so he could finish paperwork.

He told you that he would take you to the agency’s New Year’s party.

You were enjoying the music and the drinks, speaking to his friends and your friends when you realized he wasn’t by your side anymore.

You looked for him and in a hallway you found him kissing with someone who you knew to be a sidekick.

“Monoma” You didn’t know what to say or do. He jumped and pushed the sidekick away before trying to get close to you.

“Y/n! W-Wait! Let me explain. This is all a big misunderstanding!” He tried explaining but you were already walking away. He went back to the party and couldn’t find you anywhere.

No one knew where you were and he couldn’t get a hold of you. He started panicking thinking that you might have gotten hurt or worse.

Kirishima

Kirishima didn’t know when to quit and that was the reason why you loved him so much.

He was always trying to push himself to do things that he might fear for the sake of someone else.

He was scared to ask you out and when he managed to get the word with he couldn’t help let out a cheer when you accepted to date him.

Once he started his pro-hero career it took a lot out of him. Physically and mentally.

He was constantly getting injured and every time you had come to the hospital not knowing how or why he got hurt.

There were times when he nearly died and it left you distraught. You never knew when it would be the last time you’d see him.

And he refused to tell you what he was doing or how hurt he was.

New Year's was no different.

He was hurt and bleeding out after fighting a villain. He was rushed to the hospital and when you arrived to check up on him he snapped at you when you began asking him what happened.

You had spent so long telling him that you wanted him to stop taking so many risks. His health and life were on the line and he truly didn’t need to be making brash decisions.

"Y/n, if I don't do this who will?" He was frustrated and you understood that but you also dreaded someday not having the chance to see him again.

"Eijiro, please-"

"Y/n, stop. Just please stop." He doesn't want to hear you complain and he asks you to leave.

He hears the fireworks outside his hospital room.

Aizawa

He's always stressed out and that's how you met him.

He was feeding strays on his patrol and he saw you doing the same.

You started dating and it didn't bother you at all that he was absent often since he worked at UA and as an underground hero.

He made an effort to be there for the holidays but even if he couldn't be there he would make sure to tell you in advance.

The only issue with this was that he prioritized work and solitude more than being around people.

You could understand that he wanted to have his breaks in peace but it also meant that he would push you away.

It started bothering you after a while. You told him that you'd like to spend more time with him and he agreed that he could try but nothing changed.

UA decided to host a New Year's party for the teachers and students.

Aizawa went, not bothering to tell you, and when you tried getting a hold of him he didn't answer his phone.

You got into an argument when he came back.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to the party? I could have joined you." You felt hurt.

"I only went to keep the peace. Hizashi made me go."

"And you could have brought me so I could meet your coworkers."

"Stop it. Im tired and want to sleep, Y/n." He cut you off.

He went to bed leaving you to sleep on the couch as you watched the news broadcasters celebrate the new year.

Hawks

He played the role of an attentive boyfriend well.

He felt something for you, he knew it was something positive but he didn't know if he could define it as love.

He was always good at pretending so it didn't hurt to try and be your boyfriend.

It was a new relationship and he liked the affection he got from you. it was nice.

He felt appreciated in a way he hadn't been before.

Your touch, your kisses, your hugs. It was warm and inviting.

It all came crashing during the New Year party the hero commissioned hosted for all ranked heroes.

He was getting pictures with fans, talking with possible investors for his agency, talking with heroes, and all while ignoring you.

You understood he had his priorities on his agency but ever since you two started dating, it felt like he wasn't really invested in the relationship. Like something was missing from it.

When the countdown began, you tried getting him to join you out on the balcony. You wanted to greet the new year with him but he wouldn't budge.

"Give me a second." He said before making his way over to Endeavor and Jeanist.

The clock hit midnight and everyone cheered as they congratulated each other.

Hawks didn't go back to you at all. You left the party without telling him anything and just went back to your apartment.

He didn't notice you were gone until they started clearing the space and the cleaning crew started cleaning up.

He looked for you and when he couldn't find you he tried calling.

You never answer him and so he left to search for you before leaving you a last text and heading home.

742 notes · View notes

jstor · 5 months ago

Note

Hello, JSTOR!

I'm about to graduate with my first Master's and two of my professors who have helped me with my thesis (which is a literature review because the IRB views the topic to be too sensitive to be empirical). Do you have any tips on how to pursue publication for the first time? Not many professors in my program have done a literature review and published it, nor has anyway with a Master's or PsyD/PhD at my job, so we're not sure about how to go about it. (I've been trying to search, it's hard between writing a thesis, working, and having Dr.s think my seizures are fake).

Thank you much for any information.

-🦎 Lizard

Hi there Lizard,

Thanks for sharing this with us. I'm happy to share a few best practices/advice based on what you've mentioned, but I'd also love if the community could hop in to share their experiences as well.

Before I get into that, I just want to remind you to prioritize your health and well-being first and foremost! It's great that your research is near and dear to you, but never feel guilty or like you need to justify putting yourself first. I'm sure there are plenty of relevant journals waiting in the wings for what you have to offer when the time comes. <3

It looks like you're in the psychology field. Publications like Psychological Bulletin and Psychological Review look like they may be a good fit after a quick search, but I have to disclaim this isn't my (the mod) particular field. Perhaps your professors have colleagues they know outside the program who have successfully published literature reviews. You may want to chat with them about their network.

Also worth noting that peer feedback can be invaluable, so if possible, have a few colleagues or mentors review your work before you submit.

Finally, we know the publication process can be challenging, especially when juggling other responsibilities. Don’t be discouraged by any initial setbacks or rejections—they’re a normal part of academic publishing. If needed, take your time to revise and resubmit.

#jstor #ask #research #academia

74 notes · View notes

clairewritesjjkxreader · 2 years ago

Text

Yakuza x Cinderella AU Part 1 (Sukuna x Reader)

A/N: I listened to Sukuna’s Russian voice dub while writing this. Gave me some cool gangster vibes.

Everyone would have understood if you shed the “Itadori” name after old man Wasuke passed away, and no one would have blamed you if you walked away from being Yuuji Itadori’s legal guardian. After all, you just started college, you didn’t need to be “burdened,” especially by a kid you weren’t even related to.

But there was no way you could leave eleven-year-old Yuuji alone. You grew up changing his diapers, taught him how to ride a bike, cleaned up his boo-boos, and threatened his bullies.

He was your family.

Prioritizing your baby brother and his future above your own, you decided to bartender at a fancy but sleazy bar. Although the majority of patrons were assholes and the place was too far from your house and the university, the pay was better than most other part-time jobs so you sucked it up.

Between your job, mandatory onsite classes, group assignments with lazy jerks, and taking care of Yuuji and the house, you could never afford to sleep for more than three hours a day.

But Yuuji was, of course, an angel.

He didn’t like to show it, but you knew he missed gramps, and you often caught him biting his lip to suppress his whimpers and wiping his eyes with his back turned to you. He did his best to appear strong, but you wished he’d rely on you more. But the little tiger never stopped doing his chores and liked offering to do yours.

“I can’t get a part-time job yet so all I can do is take care of the house and everything else!” When he said that, you swore an arrow pierced your heart and you almost died from fluffiness.

Seeing Yuji’s bright smile was the only thing that kept you going, especially after a long day at the bar.

That’s where you met Ryomen Sukuna. He was the single most irritating bastard you’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. It wasn’t like he was a sleazebag per se–he was actually more of a silent, brooding type compared to the handsy, foul-mouthed drunkards you usually dealt with. At least, that was your first expression of him.

It was nine pm and your five minute break was almost over so you sent Yuji a good night text and a reminder to lock the doors and windows. You brushed your hair and went to your post behind the bar.

This place was in the inner city, far from most schools, so it was rare to find college students here, but it was a Friday and the end of finals week so the place was jam-packed with depressed people. You didn’t mind. Actually, you preferred having a bar full of university kids over a bar full of working adults. You liked college students. They were… nicer, more polite and patient compared to their older counterparts, who were usually middle-aged career men and women whose dreams have been shattered by the real world. Your regulars were broken and pathetic, and they often liked making their problem yours. You’d “listen” to their ramblings, nod and pretend to care, when in reality their words just went in one ear and left straight out the other.

You didn’t like talking or socializing. You left that part up to the waitstaff and prepared the drinks as quietly as possible in order to avoid trouble.

It was nearing one am, almost time for you to go home. You finished wiping the last piece of glassware when the store bell rang. You didn’t bother to even pretend to be polite this time and continued cleaning up, waiting for one of the waiters to tell the guest that the bar was already closed. But that didn’t happen.

“The VIP room is a little unclean right now, so if you’re willing to wait–”

“What do you mean unclean? You should always keep it ready,” a cold, androgynous voice reprimanded.

You were annoyed. And a bit confused. You’ve been here for several weeks now and you just found out about this so-called VIP room. And up until now, the personnel here always shooed away all customers during closing.

“It’s fine, Uraume,” a deep, husky voice interrupted. “I’m fine waiting here. Just get me my drink.”

You raised your eyes and saw a tall man in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bringing attention to his… big veiny hands and sinewy arms, lined with black tattoos.

“O-of course!” Your boss clasped her hands together. “Please excuse me, I’ll get the sake ready in a bit.”

As if sensing your gaze, your tall, red-haired stranger turned his head, revealing a face also full of tattoos. You blushed but composed yourself and bowed in greeting. You refused to make eye contact again though, too embarrassed that you were caught ogling. He was more gorgeous than most idols and sports players that showed up on TV.

“On second thought, I think I’ll sit at the bar.”

Ah, crap.

“Oh, um…!” Your boss fumbled towards you, putting a hand over your shoulder. “Th-this is Y/N. She’s new. Really new, I don’t think you’ve met yet.” It felt odd watching your usually calm and charming boss act like this. She was the one who dealt with perverts and other difficult clients, all without getting too emotional or stuttering, but she seemed almost afraid of this man. “Y/N, this is Mr. Ryomen Sukuna, he owns this bar.”

That name certainly felt familiar, but you sucked at names, and as for his face… you glanced up at his smirking face. Yeah, there was no way you’d forget a guy like him. Even if you just saw him walking down the street for a split second you would remember him for sure.

Your boss squeezed you and you quickly bowed your head again. “Um, hello, thank you for the opportunity.”

“You seemed irritated when my companion and I walked in.”

“No, you must be mistaken.”

“Really? You couldn’t even be bothered to greet us. Bartenders are supposed to be friendly.”

You just tilted your head, contemplating on what to say next when your phone started ringing from the counter. Mr. Sukuna swiped it before you could blink.

“Hey!” Your sudden burst of energy shocked you and your boss. You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Er. I mean… I apologize.”

“Shouldn’t phones be on vibrate during work hours?”

“It was on vibrate. We’re supposed to be closed now.” Welp. You were already as good as fired so you didn’t try to cover up your weariness. Yuji sometimes woke up randomly in the middle of the night. He was probably wondering where you were. You held out your hand. “Can I please have it back now? Sir?”

Like you just told the world’s funniest joke, he threw his head back, laughing heartily.

Despite your boss almost fainting on the spot thanks to your little stunt, you didn’t get fired. Sukuna seemed absolutely smitten with you–that is, as much as an owner can be smitten by a pet hamster.

It was the beginning of an irritating, one-sided relationship.

Ever since that day, Sukuna began frequenting the bar more often. Sometimes three times a week, other times almost daily. Rather than stay at the VIP room, he’d hang out by the bar and find many ways to piss you off, like hitting on you, annoying you until you talked about either Yuji or your classes, and asking you to make some complicated cocktail he heard from a business partner, only to then insult it (he’d always finish the thing though). At the very least, he didn’t try touching you inappropriately. And plus, his childish fascination with you meant he demanded you hang out with him immediately after you finished preparing someone else’s drink, so you didn’t have to listen to other people whine about their lives and you didn’t have to make up excuses with the more gropey customers.

To be continued…

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryoumen #y/n #sukuna ryomen #reader #yakuza #gangster #mafia #yakuza au #cinderella au #minor age gap i guess?#rich guy poor girl/guy #yuji is baby

597 notes · View notes

stargirl-writes · 1 year ago

Text

safety net

pairing : force healer! jedi x anakin skywalker

word count : 1.2 k

masterlist | part two

summary

finding safety in a world deranged by war became a distant dream until your childhood friend, anakin skywalker, comes back to your life.

tags : fluff, comfort, friends-to-lovers.

warnings : mentions of surgical procedure/blood.

notes

happy holidays to everyone that celebrates !

as a present, here's some warm fluff that's been sitting in the drafts i wanna share with y'all 🤍

It began when Obi-Wan Kenobi, asked you to heal Anakin Skywalker.

The Jedi Master felt as though it was his responsibility to find the most competent healer in the galaxy after his Padawan lost an arm in a fight against Count Dooku.

And you didn't hesitate taking in the job the Jedi Council has entrusted you with. It was the most flattering, especially since you will be in charge of the care of their 'chosen one'.

You had just finished your apprenticeship in force healing, so you were determined not to let down the Council and the honor they bestowed.

"[Name]? You've grown" Anakin blinks when he realizes it was you. By the way he was smiling ear-to-ear, you realize he had been languid from the blood loss.

You were younglings together. The Jedi Masters had not fallen short in reminding Anakin that he was supposed to be the chosen one. That title, was not only known to him, but to all else.

It isolated him. As you had been. Your natural connection to healing made the Masters want to develop your skills outside the standard curricula.

Anakin was the one you sat with when no one wanted to. It was you and Anakin until you had to leave to pursue learning about healing through other force wielders.

"Yes, Anakin, I'm in charge of your care now" You answered, raising the syringe to his sight so he'd anticipate the injection.

"If it takes losing an arm to have you back, I'd have done it again" Anakin says thru half-lidded eyes.

The sedative was quickly taking its effect and you couldn't dare to look up at Obi-Wan.

"Well, at least one of us is happy about this" You answered.

Remembering your bedside manners, you proceeded with the protocol.

Send the patient to sleep.

Don't appear doubtful.

Don't make promises.

"Is there a color you'd want for your new arm?" You forced your voice to remain calm as you redirect his attention to the question. Both your hands are applying pressure on his severed arm to reduce the blood spilling.

Obi-Wan was pale with worry. You nodded to him hoping that he'd be reassured his apprentice would be fine. He looked like he'd pass out before Anakin.

Anakin leans back on the stretcher, the thought keeping him focused and away from the pain that was being dulled by the sedative.

"Definitely not gold— C3PO will never let it go" His nose scrunched, grimacing at the thought.

You let out a chuckle at his comment. "Alright, not gold"

The Med-Droid had finished preparing the materials and when you turn back your focus to the Jedi, he was already asleep.

You worked efficiently. Time was of paramount importance. The Jedi teachings hypothesized on midi-chlorians being stored in the blood, so you prioritized stopping the bleeding.

The lightsaber cut cauterized the tissues and vessels, making his blood coagulate and turn toxic. To your advantage, you were able to utilize both medical practice and force healing to fully save the nerves.

You can still make him a bionic arm that would be sensate.

By the time you were finished, the design you sent to bioengineering came. A silver arm with hints of red.

It still looked more skeletal than realistic. But that's only because you wanted to improve on it later. This was only a prototype.

Your hand coddles his cheek— this was the fastest way to sense how he'd been feeling.

His signature appears to you as a series of words.

Conflicted. In a state of stasis. Scared.

You took your hand back, deciding not to pry more into what he was keeping.

Hours flew and you found yourself in a loop debating whether electric signals in the nerves could fire using zillo skin. It would be the toughest replacement for skin, but it's not capable of transmitting signals for sensation.

Your mind was beginning to numb from the mental exhaustion. Your curious gaze lands on Anakin's bare torso. He was still unconscious.

You would have done your research in your quarters, but you wanted to be here when he wakes.

Your mind started drifting and you followed his breathing.

How is it possible for his skin to hug so tight against his muscles?

You blinked, startled by the thought that crossed your mind. Perhaps it was time to sleep...

"Eyes are up here" Anakin says in a singsong voice.

You look up through your lashes, cheeks firing up from the embarrassment.

He chuckles, then his attention lands on his bionic arm.

"How are you feeling?" You stood up, grabbing the charts and taking note of his vital signs displayed on the monitors. You pressed on the recline and Anakin sits up along with the bed.

"Mmmhungry?" He rubs his eye.

"I'll have someone bring something" You smiled. "Can I?" You asked before touching his bionic arm.

He nods and you continued. "Can you open your fist?" You asked, holding the bionic arm, guiding gently.

Anakin's eyebrows furrowed in focus. The arm abruptly closes. "What happened?"

"That's fine, your mind is adapting to sending nerve signals to the synthetic ones." You explained, your fingers unclenching his fist.

Anakin tries again and his fingers opens up in a more controlled manner.

You let out a breath of relief when you realized you have managed to save all those tiny nerves.

"Alright, now tell me how much you can feel" You instructed, running the tip of your pointer finger against his palm, you look up to see him already looking at you.

Focus.

Anakin was not at all subtle. It made butterflies run down your stomach.

"I can feel you, but I can't tell how much pressure your applying" He answers.

You nodded, noting it down.

Now, you need to test the receptors for heat.

Oh, by the force, why must he look at me like that.

You centered yourself on the task in front. You pressed the back of your hand against his palm. "And how does my skin feel? Can you tell if it's warm?"

Your heart was thundering inside your ribs, you were kind of scared that Anakin will hear how nervous he was making you feel.

Anakin tilts his chin, as if he was really trying to feel. "No, I can't feel the heat" He clasps his fingers against your palm as if testing more.

Of course, you couldn't have healed everything. "Alright" You withdrew.

"This is only a prototype, I'll improve its design after we do some more tests" You stood up, trying to establish some space between you and your old friend.

Anakin leans back after noting your action. "Thank you, [Name]" He kept his eyes fixed on you, as if he was still waking up from a dream.

You managed a smile. "I got you"

His eyes lingered on yours, you could not find it in yourself to look away.

A soft knock on the door snapped you awake.

"Well, don't you look well" Obi Wan comments with a wide smile

"Something's different" He crosses his arms, as if trying to figure out what it was that changed.

"Dooku really got you with that scar" Obi Wan nods his head as he waves a hand tracing the scar on his apprentice's face.

You couldn't hold back a laugh in surprise.

"I lost an arm" Anakin squeezes his eyes close.

"Come, no reason for me to be rude now." Obi-Wan winks at you. "But since you brought it up, how are you feeling?" He steps forward to Anakin's bed.

You leave the two to catch up on their own.

of course i'd seperate the angst on the next part so if you want more of that, head to the next one haha!

#anakin (ciella's ver)#anakin skywalker #star wars #sw #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars anakin #anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin star wars #anakin fluff #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine

243 notes · View notes

nekokoaa · 1 year ago

Text

The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (III)

Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.

Rated Explicit, fluff, smut

4K words | (3/5) chapters

Chapters:

(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V)

Author's notes: I work as a freelance copywriter so I had to prioritize my projects but I still managed to get this done! Enjoy! :) Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list.

Also on AO3

III.

Sometimes you wish you were mindless—just a rusty cog of a machine in a 9 to 5 corporate job. Simply, a taciturn sheep led by a shepherd, waiting for the day a butcher’s knife is pressed against its neck. It was easier to handle life in such a way. Regrets can never be born when allied with carelessness.

But it was something beyond you. Clearly. The throes of passion had tempted you that night. His hand on your hip firmly held you in place, fingers pressed into your suit. Covetous crimson eyes searched between your eyes and lips long enough that the sweat of your skin gathered at your clavicles. But you managed to resist his heat, disappointing, yes, but at least you still had your dignity—your morals. If it wasn’t for that, you might’ve been in his bed that night, rocking your hips against his without a single care in the world.

Three weeks had passed by and you haven’t had a session with him since that night. You were canceling them in hopes that the fire between you fizzles. With distance, desire usually fades so you only hoped that night was just your hormones acting up and there wasn’t a deeper meaning to how you felt.

Between that time, you had the opportunity to meet Gwen Stacy from 65. She was a nice girl, cool, and very much like all of you. Burdened with the sense of justice with a side of wittiness.

She was popular, especially among the Peters who had lost their Gwens. They looked at her like she was a what-if moment and were impressed by her, but you knew you’ll be seeing them on your office couch soon enough.

Hobie was practically best friends with her now. The late night sessions with Hobie were a rare occurrence these days. Like a stray, he found a new person to feed his interests.

Jess favored her the most. Reminded her of her younger days, and how impressive she was at that age—still is, as she’s been carrying a baby in her stomach while doing her missions flawlessly.

Miguel was indifferent. At least that’s how he acted. But as long as work was getting done, you were leveling up the relationship bar with him.

Out of everyone, Peter B was home to her. To see a familiar face amongst like-minded strangers had helped her settle in faster than you expected. Seeing them together made them look like family.

Because of the great reputation she had around the society, today you allowed Gwen to pull you away from the safety of your office straight to Miguel’s for what she called emotional support. There was something she wanted to ask him—a request. And she had the idea that your presence would soften him up somehow.

“Why do you think that?” When you asked, Gwen looked back at you with a knowing smile. Her hand still latched onto your wrist like a snake squeezing its prey. She guided you through the cavernous hall of tech that led to Miguel’s office, the pathway seemed to grow darker the closer you got.

“I see how you two look at each other during meetings.” She said effortlessly like it was a fact. You let out a cough like you choked on air, already shaking your head to her conclusion.

“You know he’s always leading them—what? Do you expect me to look at the ceiling or something?” Gwen laughed at this, but it didn’t look like she was convinced.

Walking in, you had expected Miguel’s office to be darker than the hall leading towards it, but it was instead imbued with a ruddy tint, and streaks of sliver threads surrounded the area Miguel was standing in. He was in the middle of briefing a few Spider-Men for a mission on Gaia-3000. Miguel always made sure to remind his agents of the canon events before going on a mission to prevent the loss of the universe. It was more important than the mission itself.

The briefing didn’t last long as Miguel noticed you enter with Gwen. His gaze could’ve riveted you to the floor, the look on his face was neither soft nor austere—perhaps aloof would best describe how he looked at you. Yet you wanted to believe there was something behind those eyes of his because not once did they leave you since you entered.

It was until the Spider-Men walked into their portals that Miguel’s attention moved to the floating projections. The silver webs of fate orbited around him as if he were a sun. He would’ve looked occupied if it weren’t for his eyes moving between you and the projections.

“Doc.” He greeted you once you were in front of him, looking down at you through the hologram of a canon event that floated in between you two. There was a moment—just a moment where his eyes looked soft… but it could’ve been the trick of the hologram.

“Miguel.” You had to suck your lips in to stop yourself from smiling. You hated to admit it, but you were happy to speak to him after so long. Staying away from him was a selfish decision, one that you regretted now that you stood in front of him.

Your heart thumped in bliss, the warmth from that night revisiting you like an old friend. How inane of you to think that distance would’ve settled this emotion. It was already being stitched onto your soul from the moment this agreement started—the very needle sunken in when his hand stretched out of that portal into your apartment many months ago. You couldn’t pretend anymore.

You fell for him. Regardless of whether he felt the same or not.

“Uh, I’m here too…” Gwen had a slight smile on her face, bending forward with a small wave to Miguel.

“Gwen,” you could tell Miguel forced a smile, fangs appearing while none of the light reached his eyes. It lasted a moment before it dropped to his usual scowl. Miguel then turned around to face his floating platform that started its slow descent to the ground. “I’m sure you already had a tour of the place unless you’re just here to say hello.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something!”

“If a universe isn’t collapsing, or an anomaly hasn’t appeared, then Jess can handle it.”

“But it’s important! I just figure it would make our jobs easier. You know, making sure the universes are in order?”

The rumble of the descending platform had filled in for Miguel’s silence. He peeked behind his shoulder, his eyes looking past Gwen’s and into yours before they lowered to the ground. He then folded his arms against his chest, sighing. “I’m listening.”

Gwen immediately beamed, light filling her eyes. “Okay!” You could tell her entire energy ignited. Her arms flailed with every word that left her lips. She was animated—excited, glowing like a sun rising from the horizon, its rays brighter as the seconds go by. If anyone were to watch her, they too would feel elated by her presence alone.

But as the sun rises in one part of the world, it sets in the other. Her idea was nothing but grave to you, the dread in your face impossible to hide as she spoke with an open mind—naivety in her words. You couldn’t blame her because it’s possible no one told her yet, not Jess and surprisingly not Peter B. If she had told you of her idea prior, you wouldn’t have come here to support her. Just the thought of her idea could be considered mutiny to the entire cause… to Miguel.

You cast your eyes down, afraid to even lift them towards Miguel. You didn’t have to. You could already feel it brewing, simmering like water on a stovetop. A part of you internally begged for Gwen to shut up, or wished the sound of the descending platform was loud enough to overtake her voice. Miguel wasn’t facing either of you but you could still feel a weight on top of your shoulders, drilling you into the floors, your limbs heavier than sacks of sand.

Gwen went on and on until she was rambling, probably because she was excited or nervous. You couldn’t exactly tell. It was until the platform finally reached the ground that Gwen ended her request with a “pretty please” and a large smile on her face.

That smile didn’t last long.

“No,” Miguel spoke softly.

“Wha…” she faltered, physically her shoulders dropped. “What? Wait—why? I mean—he would be such a great asset to our group and—Probably one of the best Spider-mans I’ve met. The things he can do— He’s amazing , Miguel.”

“I said, no.” And it was final. Gwen knew that but she still pushed, making her argument, excuses, anything. Miguel silenced her with a heavy sigh, fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. You expected anger when he turned to face her but no, there was nothing but sympathy in his eyes. Sympathy for what he had to reveal to her. He towered over her and with a heavy hand on her shoulder, said:

“That Miles Morales… was never supposed to be a Spider-Man. He’s not one of us. He’s an anomaly , Gwen, the original anomaly.”

At those words, it was like a string was pulled, released and an arrow soared and struck her chest. Gwen was trying to make sense of it all but nothing made sense no matter how long she thought about it.

Miguel continued regardless. With the command of his hands, the projections swirled around you three, depicting the moment when Spider-42 fell into Earth-1610, bit the wrong Miles Morales and in turn, the Spider-man from his universe died. Your real comrade.

Gwen didn’t want to believe it. Shaking her head as she stared at each projection. The truth floated around her. Thoughts ran a mile a minute. It would’ve been better if Peter B. told her instead of Miguel. Maybe if she heard it from a trusted friend, it would’ve been easier to believe. But Gwen knew there was no reason for Miguel to lie about this. What motive could Miguel have to not let Miles join the Spider Society?

“Miles Morales-1610 as Spider-man was a mistake.” His words to her were the final nail to a coffin. With the skidding sound coming from her shoes, she turned around and bolted out of Miguel’s office.

“Gwen!” You were about to chase after her until Miguel’s voice cut through the air.

“You think I’m done here?”

You physically jumped at how loud he sounded like thunder had rolled and rumbled the floor under your feet. You turned towards him and immediately you regretted it. What was brewing before was most certainly his anger, saved solely for you while Gwen was spared because of her naivety. But you—you knew better than to associate yourself with the anomaly. If only Miguel could give you a chance to explain yourself.

“Miguel, I—”

He didn’t let you finish. His hand latched onto your wrist, pulling you deeper into his office and into a room beyond the shadows. It was more like a traditional office than the one outside with a desk, a bookcase, a soft couch and some cabinets. There was even a bed that Miguel probably slept in whenever he didn't want to return home. The sheets were ruffled so you could tell he often used it but never had enough time to make it because he was usually always on the go.

However, it was the last thing on your mind when you had a fuming Miguel in front of you. He didn’t even wait for the door to close before he grabbed you a little too rough by the shoulders, shaking you lightly. Red eyes lasered down on you.

Undoubtedly, you knew he was angry, but there was something else in there.

“What were you thinking? You know what Miles-1610 is to us, Doc! You know what an anomaly could do to a universe and you still supported her idea? Did you really think that was okay? Letting an anomaly join and ruin everything —!”

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know that’s what she wanted to ask! All she told me was that it would support the society and she needed me here for emotional support! If I knew it was about the anomaly, I wouldn’t have come here!”

You yelled back louder. Miguel’s talon-less fingers buried themselves in your upper arms, squeezing them. His eyes were wide, shaky red irises searching within your own for any hint of honesty. The grip on you wasn’t as firm as it looked. Like a crane holding a prize, the slightest nudge would’ve shaken his hands off. Despite how he looked, Miguel made sure he wasn’t hurting you.

“This is exactly why I told Jess I didn’t want her to join! She’s—She’s too close with the anomaly. She can jeopardize our entire cause all because of him��!” He froze after, an idea appearing in his head. He wasn’t thinking rationally anymore. He released you, turning around like he wanted to leave. “She has to go home.”

“Wait! You can’t—Let’s think about this, Miguel.”

He was quick to face you again, his hands returning to your upper arms. He bent forward until his face was at your level. “I can’t have her risk all that I built—that we built.”

There it was. It wasn’t just anger he was feeling. The signs were all there; His trembling breath, the sweat that made his forehead glossy, the weakness in his hold.

Miguel was panicking.

It was fear that buried itself within his fury from the moment Gwen had asked for Miles-1610’s recruitment and when he thought you supported her idea. It was like he saw it again. His daughter disappearing in his arms, the weight of her so heavy… until he felt nothing—until nothing around him existed except for what remained of the universe: white light and empty space. He had the blood of that universe on his hands and no matter how many times he tried to wash them away, it was now embedded in his soul. All that existed ended because he was the anomaly of that world disrupting the canon events.

Months after months of research couldn’t bring him the exact reason for that universe ending, but he was sure of one thing. If everything went how it was planned, nothing like that would happen ever again.

And that’s why it was his job to put things back to how it was. It was the only thing he could do to atone.

So yes, Miguel was reliving his trauma yet again.

And it was your job to relieve him of it.

“That doesn’t mean we should make rash decisions,” you told him, gently. “She’s one of our best and letting her go would slow down our efforts. You and I both know that.”

Miguel’s energy was being sapped out of him, visibly his shoulders dropped and those red eyes were no longer on you as he hung his head low. He released you and retreated to sit on his bed. For a moment, he looked like a toy that ran out of batteries, burying his face in his hands before he ran them through his curly locks.

It was so different seeing him like this—like he was moping. You followed him and stood between his legs.

“Besides, Gwen's a smart girl. She wouldn’t do anything that would put the universes at risk.” He didn’t respond or even look at you. It made you run a hand against his cheek as your thumb brushed under his eye. “When’s the last time you slept? You look tired.”

“I don’t have time to be tired. Not when there’s a Galaxy-size mess I have to clean up. With every anomaly we restore, 10,000 more just take its place. It’s never-ending, Doc. I’m like a janitor mopping up a shoreline.”

“We all took an oath. A spider-person’s job never ends. Which is why we need to rest as much as we can to fight another day.”

“I didn’t ask for this, Doc.” He sighed, leaning his head against your hand until his cheek pushed up against it. “And I won’t be able to sleep.”

“None of us did…” you lightly smiled, “And I’ll help you.”

You pulled your hand away from his cheek, but you didn’t miss when he leaned more against it for his lips to press into your palm. The brief feel of them jolted something within you like a warm shiver struck your lower stomach. Gosh, it made you curious—too curious about how they would feel against other parts of your body.

And you didn’t miss those eyes that looked up at you, red like cherries, sweet like them too. It was hard to turn away, somewhat thankful you managed to because you didn’t want to be under their spell. You still felt the heat of them on you even as you approached his bookcase. Your palm still tingling from the feel of his lips as you pulled a book off one of the shelves. You returned to him grinning.

He was disappointed when he glanced at your book choice in your hand. “Charlotte’s web? Am I a kid to you?”

“No, but… you act like one sometimes. Lay down for me.”

You pushed against his shoulder leaving him no choice but to oblige. What he didn’t expect was you to climb in after him, settling on your side next to him while you opened the book to page one and started to read.

Miguel still couldn’t sleep. His eyes remained open, watching the top of your head as you read. A lovely smile on your face as you tried (and failed) to give each character their own distinctive voice. When you weren’t busy turning the page, the hand that he kissed was together with his, fingers interlocked. You were so used to holding his hand by now that you thought nothing of it and ignored the warmth that spread throughout your body because of it.

“Are you finally resuming our sessions?” Miguel interrupted you, pulling your eyes away from the book and into his own.

“Only if you need it.”

You knew Miguel would never admit he needed it, especially how adamant he was about them in the beginning.

“I need it.”

Oh.

“I definitely need it.”

“Then… I’ll put you back on my calendar.”

“ Muy Bien. ”

His sonorous whisper had heat searing your cheeks, not to mention, that smile that flashed your way made his fangs look bigger—so mischievous it had you biting your lip. Immediately after, Miguel’s mask materialized around his head. Much to your disappointment.

“Do you really need your mask on while you sleep?” You asked.

“You never know when the job needs you. Have to always be on the ready.”

“Words from a true workaholic… you said you wanted a family but how exactly were you going to make time for them when you’re working all these hours?”

“Oh, I always made time for mi hija . Always went to her soccer practice. Always was there to read her a bedtime story. Take her clothes shopping. I was made to be a dad but… it just isn’t in my fate to be one.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you heard his pain. You squeezed his hand, regretful.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no, no, no—It’s okay… It’s a valid question.”

Not knowing what else to say, you continued to read. Seconds, minutes, time ticked away. Miguel’s hand was still tight in yours, but his voice came out heavy whenever he commented about the book. His head was against the pillows, turned in your direction.

Your voice must’ve been soothing him because his hand would grow weak in yours and then he would suddenly squeeze it, throwing a random comment out about the main character, Wilbur, and then trying to convince you he didn’t fall asleep. Sometimes the heat where your hands came together would make him doze off and the coolness that grew when they were briefly apart would stir him awake.

“Maybe we should’ve recruited Charlotte. She really saved that pig’s ass,” he mumbled, looking like he had sunk deeper into his bed, the pillows swallowed his head.

“Yeah, she dedicated her life to saving him. All the way to the very end. She never gave up, spending hours weaving her web, trying to convince the humans no matter how tough it got. I’m sure she may have felt like she was… mopping up a shoreline too but her actions paid off in the end… the difference is, you’re not alone, Miguel. You have us—all of us to rely on, to help shoulder the burden. Please don’t forget that—that we’re here for you.”

You expected something, anything from him, but you received nothing but silence. “Miguel…? Oh…” it was then you noticed his hand was weak in yours and when you pulled your hand away, he stayed asleep.

Finally. You couldn’t help but smile, softly closing the book before sitting up.

You watched his chest rise and fall as he lay supine against his bed. You should’ve left his office but you stayed there watching him sleep, taking in the rare sight of Miguel completely defenseless. You wished you could’ve seen his face. It would’ve been the topping on the cake.

Your fingers brushed against his arm, suddenly craving the warmth of his body.

You couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer, but you wondered if Miguel felt anything for you. You knew how lonely men acted. As long as the body was warm and could keep them company, it didn’t matter to them.

Some part of you wondered if you were just as lonely as Miguel—that these feelings were just because you craved for someone. Maybe it was even the reason why you sprung up this agreement in the first place. After your divorce, you became married to your work, the only thing that mattered was your patients as a therapist and the people you saved as a superhero. You abandoned yourself, shutting yourself off from the world within your white-walled apartment. It was why you looked up to Miguel as much as you did because he was the one who pulled you out of your darkness. So you were hoping you could do the same thing for him.

But you knew your heart beat too strongly for it to be just feelings of loneliness. It longed for him even when you were this close to him, wanting to be surrounded by the warmth that emanated from him, wanting to be touched, kissed, and held only by the man who saved you, your guiding light while you were lost at sea.

Your hand moved to caress his cheek, feeling the fibers of his mask under your fingertips. You were leaning closer to him, unable to resist like a moth to a flame. God, you were completely enamored by him. Looks like he didn’t need to look at you to be under his spell.

For the first time, you didn’t think about the consequences. For the first time, you were mindless.

You pressed your lips against his lips, closing your eyes. It was softer than you expected; light, feathery and warm. Too warm . It was brief but it was enough to light a flame within you that burned when you pulled away. Your breath shuddered as you inhaled, the warmth lasting only a second.

Your eyes opened, but you found yourself stilling. Miguel’s eyes were still closed, though half of his mask was dematerialized to the tip of his nose. His lips were out, free from the fibers.

Your mouth hung open. Miguel had removed half of his mask when kissed him and you hadn't a clue if he was asleep all this time or not.

The remainder of his mask dematerialized and you were face to face with those eyes of his. Your heart skipped a beat, knocking the air from your lungs as your palms grew sweaty.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You felt so much pressure under his gaze, his face not quite readable. You flicked your wrist towards the ceiling and a web shot out, preparing yourself to run away until a glowing red web wrapped around your wrist and riveted you in place.

“Not this time, Doc.”

------------------------------

Tag List:

@oikawa-bubs @brittney69 @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @allysunny @smarty0029 @96jnie @deepinballs @lovecandyuwu @remuslupinwifee

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #marvel #sony #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man: into the spider verse #fanfiction #fluff #angst #smut #the agreement

375 notes · View notes

shadowmor · 1 month ago

Text

Alpha!MC X Omega!NXX Members headcanon

Characters: Luke, Artem and Vyn. Warnings: Not detailed, but has some suggestive themes. Basic summary of the world: Your second species only happens after you turn 18, when you will know if you fit into the alpha, beta, and omega categories. Mc/Reader is a dominant alpha and all the members are omegas. Relationship: They are falling in love/it is not an official romance yet between you and them.

Luke:

Before you two went your separate ways, Luke always dreamed that he would be the alpha and you the omega, although he certainly wouldn't care what you were as long as you chose him as your partner.

But after a few years away from you, when taking the pheromone test, Luke discovered sad news that he was an omega. An omega. Not that he was prejudiced or anything, but it was a little... disappointing.

Luke had never imagined how difficult it was to be one, especially with the kind of job he has.

As soon as Luke saw you for the first time in eight years, the first thing he noticed was the pleasant scent emitting from you. It was something warm, comfortable that slightly called him to stay in your arms. That dangerous thing had a slight scent of mint in the middle, which he assumed was the suppressant you were using.

It was hard to ignore you when he found out you joined the NXX team, your scent casually called him, it was so complicated to have to control his own body to not hug you.

Honestly, for Luke, the hardest part of being around you is when your emotions are a little higher, he can feel the slightest change in your scent to whatever mental state you're going through. And all of that seems to affect him.

After a month of being together solving the cases, his heat became irregular and he's 99% sure it was your fault, I mean, unconsciously it was.

Luke can easily tell when you're in heat, even though you smell strongly of mint, indicating that the suppressant you took was in high dosage. It would have been better if you had just stayed home!! why the hell are you still working? Even if you don't know it, it affects him too.

He has recent dreams in which your fangs pierce his neck, and as a result, he wakes up with wet underwear in the morning.

Vyn

Ritcher likes the minty scent of your suppressant, perhaps because he feels comforted by the fact that you think of the well-being of others or because of your good conscience and common sense. (Which seems to have been lost to the world.)

But your scent is still noticeable and brings a sense of calm, which reminds him a little of his garden.

Vyn admits that your scent is one of the big reasons he likes to sit next to you or behind you in the team meeting place.

It was a little difficult to deal with your presence when you were clearly in heat, despite the strong dosage of suppressant he can smell coming from you, your pheromones still managed to enter his nostrils.

Vyn felt his back burn along with his throat. It was strange, since he was certainly used to dealing with people in heat on a daily basis, he just assumed that you were a dominant alpha. (But he has dealt with those types of alphas, so what's the difference?)

He likes to watch you eat during the break, maybe, just maybe because your fangs show. (Is it weird to want the back of his neck pierced?)

Artem

He already knew you were an alpha, since he saw your resume. At first, he didn't really care that much about it.

Until your presence started to enter his life.

For some reason, he could now smell your scent from the fifth floor or he could tell you were watching the trial (even with so many people watching too).

Artem's heat was usually in a delayed cycle and of short duration, perhaps due to a psychological process, since he prioritized his work life more than his romantic one. Something must have affected him.

But now, his heat seems to have activated normally, lasting more than a few weeks. - his personal doctor was really happy about it, saying that finally he was normal now, but Artem doesn't think that's it.

When he's stressed about a case, he usually walks in front of your work room, somehow, your scent calms him down.

He would like to one day smell your full scent without the suppressant blocking part of it.

When you joined the team, it was a little harder to bear the ecstasy. Because of the daily proximity (you already had, but now it was a little closer) it seemed like your scent was guiding him.

It was hard to be close to you in heat, very hard. He had to keep his distance for a long time. - you could understand as soon as you saw his ears burning when he took a step closer.

One time he saw you so stressed that your fangs appeared. Strangely, he found it... charming.

#tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #artem wing #artem tot #artem wing x reader #vyn richter #vyn ritcher x reader #luke pearce #luke pearce x reader #tot #tot x reader

29 notes · View notes

andhumanslovedstories · 1 year ago

Note

any advice for nursing students/new nurses?

When you buy a stethoscope, get it engraved with your name, I literally cannot tell you how much that has saved my ass. All stethoscopes look the exact same, even if you think you got a unique looking one, and they're super easy to lose, and they're a hundred plus bucks. engraved!!

There's literally so many acronyms, and everyone assumes the acronyms they know are universal, and no one is correct. Get comfortable with the phrase "remind me what [x] stands for" when someone rattles off a string of letters you don't recognize. (sometimes the person talking to you doesn't know either! whoops!!)

Ask questions all the time actually. This is the ideal time to do so and everyone will be scared if you don't.

For straight cathing patients, you can usually get a lidocaine gel that numbs the urethra, which helps with discomfort. Also for straight cathing patients, if they have a vagina, make sure you visualize the urethra before you start the whole process. You don't want to have to find it later when you're sterile and can't touch anything.

If you've never used a bed pan, it is surprisingly much harder than you would expect. familiarize yourself with them before you have to place one for the first time.

At the end of every shift, find one thing you can point at that you did and were proud of. You can be proud of helping a patient get up and walk. You can be proud that your patient's pain never got above a 4. You can be proud that you helped out another nurse's patients while they were dealing with an admit. You can be proud that you didn't get visibly mad at a patient who was screaming at you. You can be proud that you got to the end of the shift and everyone is alive. You can be proud that you realized you were in over your head and called for help. Find something each shift to be proud of, and the corollary to that is behave in ways that make it easier to be proud of yourself when you look back at the way you spent your shift

get good shoes.

prioritize sleep.

meal prep

pick a few things about yourself that are harmless, not at all intimate small talk. I also have a few fun facts about myself that I love to talk about but don't overstep any boundaries (stuff like that I'm from Virginia, that I'm part of float pool so I can tell you how this room compares to others in the hospital, I have dyed hair and people love talking about that). Draw boundaries to be personable but not inappropriate. Genuinely, practice small talk. You have small talk when things are going fine so you can have Big Talk when someone's breaking down crying or starts screaming in the hallway or wants to leave against medical advice or is furious that their visitors are gonna get searched on the way in. Build rapport before you need rapport.

Sort of similar to the last one, I try to care very deeply about my patients on shift and then forget about them when I go home. I debrief with my mom or Cyrus or my journal, and then I take a shower. The shower is my mental reset time. I tuck my nursona away and emerge as just some dipshit in a towel. Find whatever ritual helps you end your shift.

there are many ways to be a good nurse. sometimes you need a hardass. sometimes you need a cheerleader. sometimes you need a goofball. sometimes you need someone who doesn't chit chat but will always get your teeth brushed, your hands washed, and your hair braided before breakfast can even get to the floor, no matter how shortstaffed the floor is. sometimes you need someone who will talk to you at three in the morning about what the dying process is like. it is impossible to be all things to all patients. as a new nurse, you start by focusing on basic minimal competency, but pay attention to what parts of the job energize you, what parts come easy to you, and lean into those. get competent at the things you are bad at, get passionate about the things you are good at, and you'll have a better chance of building a nursing practice that you can keep up with the shit times start.

the shit times can start anytime but oooh boy do they tend to arrive at your six month mark.

#nursing tag

349 notes · View notes

iliterallydecepticanteven · 10 months ago

Text

New Hozier music got me in my TFA Megop feels. Here's part of a fic I'm working on. I did not spellcheck this at all so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn't. Full version coming soon!

💜💜💜

There are few things Optimus is sure of in such odd times.

One of them is that he can be too much for some bots.

Not as a leader, no, he had long since seen his ability and potential as a leader flourish and be solidified before his optics. He means more in the interpersonal sense.

Sure, friends were easy to have. It was easy to sit back and chat with various bots and have a drink with them. Humans were shockingly easy to connect to, even more so now that he spent so much time on Earth and became more acquainted with their culture.

Even cons were easy to befriend, usually connecting through shared complaints over the Autobots High Council or, more often than not, complaining about Sentinel being a pain in the aft.

No, it was the deeper, romantic relationships that he struggled with.

He had dated some during the Academy, but it always fell apart. The most common critiques were that he was “too much” in all sorts of ways. Too attached yet too distant. Prioritized his training over others too often. Too strong a sense of justice and too passionate.

After expulsion, he shoved all that behind him. After all, if those flaws ended a relationship when he was a Prime candidate, they would surely kill even the prospect of such a thing being a Prime only in name and never in true meaning.

Then he had called a temporary ceasefire with the Decepticons to help Earth with their Quintesson problem and things got complicated.

When he wasn’t zipping around a battlefield or stuck in endless meetings, he was passed out in his berth. Even the few small snippets of free time he got he was technically busy. So finding a relationship wasn’t on his radar.

And there was the larger issue of the odd way his spark jumped around the last mech he should be having any romantic thoughts about.

He’s not a stranger to attraction, not at all. Which is why, the first time his chest tightens around Megatron, he nearly runs out of the room.

They’d been in a meeting, Optimus fully zoned out, nursing his cube of warm energon. They’d been up all night chasing Quintesson ships out of Earth’s atmosphere and just his luck Sentinel wanted a video call right as they arrived back on their temporary Earth base. A smattering of other bots and cons sat in the meeting room but he largely ignored them.

The cube in his servos was so blessedly warm. The energon contained within it was more bitter than what he was used to, having been farmed and processed from the energon crystals popping up across Detroit. But its taste was richer and more complex, like the essence of the ground it sprung out of lingered in its molecular structure. It was quite nice in his opinion.

He was thinking of his berth and the recharge he would be getting when he snapped back to attention at the mention of his name.

“Sorry Sentinel Prime, could you repeat that?” he asks. He didn’t catch the words but he caught the tone and knew it wouldn’t be good.

Sentinel huffs and crosses his arms. The video feed lags behind the audio by a few meager clicks. “I said, we wouldn’t have to be worrying about this whole mess if you could actually do your job and eradicate the Quintessons already! But you charged ahead without Council permission and made a deal with that backwater planet and now we’re stuck putting time, credits, and energon into a mess that wasn’t even ours to begin with!”

Optimus sits up straight. “First and foremost, we are not wasting energon nor credits on protecting this planet. Need I remind you the only reason Earth is being attacked by the Quintessons at all is due to the energon crystals bursting out of the ground. The deal is that if we defend Earth and eliminate the threat, all energon would be split equally between the Autobot and Decepticon armies. Even taking into account only getting half of the energon crystals, we have seen an increase in credits and do not need energon imports as we process everything here.”

Sentinel opened his mouth to argue and Optimus continued. “Secondly, I went ahead without Council permission because it was an emergency and as the temporary appointed Magnus I had every right to send forces to Earth. Alongside that, I did not send all of our forces, which I could have done, but didn’t because I knew if I did, it was likely Quintessons would take advantage of an unprotected Cybertron and attack. I sent myself and a small portion of forces to defend a planet we have ties to. And finally, if you would use your processor and think for even a milliclick, you’d understand that sudden Quintesson interest in energon is a sign of something bad happening in the future. They have largely used other forms of fuel and energy sources, but considering energon is highly concentrated and the primary agent in most intergalactic combat weapons, whatever they want it for cannot be good.”

Sentinel is clearly angry but desperately trying to hold it in. His arms are crossed and his optics wide but his mouth is shut tightly. Everyone around Optimus has gone silent but he doesn’t even bother looking at them. He misses how Bulkhead and Bumblebee share an excited smile at seeing Sentinel getting chewed out, the proud smug grin on Ratchet’s face, and how Lugnut mouths wow at Strika who just nods enthusiastically in agreement.

And he most certainly misses the look Megatron sends his way. If he had seen it, he would likely call the expression a mix between fondness, infatuation, and wonder.

#tfa #transformers animated #megop #tfa megop #optimus #optimus prime #megatron #too sweet by hozier made me feral and the only cure is to write tfa megop pining #you've heard of megatron pining for optimus lets fucking flip it #my writing #this is not done i promise #i just really gotta go do some time sensitive errands and then i can buckle in and finish this

123 notes · View notes

vasito-de-leche · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! If request still open, could you do a romantic hcs for Click from reverse 1999 please?

;R1999 CLICK - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Click in a romantic relationship.

I haven't thought much abt Click but hmmm - now I'm kinda intrigued after looking through his voicelines and story! ty for the ask, nonnie!

Fandom led me to believe Click was just the a sad and wet little shy introvert victim of the horrors but now I'm willing to say that there's a little more nuance to that - his behaviour is muted and calm, but many of his voicelines point towards a very daring and fearless personality.

One of them states how he was never even afraid of landmines in the first place, and we also have to take into account the fact that his job requires a lot of courage. He also has no problem prioritizing a picture, regardless of what people might think or say - or the trouble he could get into.

In the context of romance, Click is quite a breeze of fresh air - despite having little to no experience in relationships, he's naturally curious and straightforward in his own muted, calm way. Very inquisitive when it comes to learning the ropes, finding out more hidden facets of his partner and also learning about his own. There's no ulterior motives, no ungodly amount of emotional baggage - Click is very genuine and direct.

I do think he'd be pretty dense when it comes to people flirting with him, with compliments and subtle pick-up lines flying right over his head. Click is very insightful when it comes to photography, always taking beautiful shots that just display all the beauty that surrounds him - but he's still somewhat oblivious to certain things, especially if they're related to romance. Don't take it personally if all you get is a simple thanks after showering him in compliments!

On the subject of Click realizing he has a crush.

As a photographer, he focuses on the small details - and so, it would take a long time for him to notice the big picture.

Why is his portfolio full of things that remind him of you? He doesn't understand why he keeps freezing up whenever he talks to you. Normally, he'd have no trouble asking people for a photoshoot, why can't he bring himself to ask you all of a sudden?

But as soon as Click realizes he has a crush, he's quick to act on his feelings and confront you directly - photography has taught him to never let any sensational moments pass. No matter where you are or what you're doing, you'll find Click right beside you, having manifested out of thin air, insisting that he has something important to tell you. He feels like you should know what he's feeling, and so he tells you right away.

It's not necessarily a proper confession in his eyes, at least he didn't confess with the intention of getting you to date him or find out what you feel in return - it's more so the polite thing to do, both for himself and for you, the object of his affections. This is also as far as he's planned. The moment those words leave his mouth, Click would simply bid you a good day and float away because he's just done with his business, there's no point in keeping you from going about your day.

It's up to you to confront him right away or wait a few days - either way, you'll be met with an extremely surprised and somewhat flustered Click, who wasn't expecting an answer in the first place. He'll be somewhat timid during the first few months, but once he settles in the relationship you can expect him to be even more direct, interrupting conversations you have with people because he just really wants you to hang out with him and so on.

He loves when you look for him from across the room. He just loves knowing you're looking at him.

Because of his status as a ghost and his former job during the war, Click is used to blending in with the background to the point where it's become quite the habit - it's easy to forget he's in the room and he makes his presence as small as possible, as it allows him more freedom to roam and capture small, fleeting moments.

I wouldn't say that he's desperate to be seen or noticed, quite the contrary! His voicelines express that he feels much better now that he can just float around, be a fly and the wall, etc.

But he's always been the one observing others, not the one being observed - Click is not used to receiving this unique type of attention and affection, to be on the other side of the camera.

He stammers and grows extremely flustered when he realizes that you've taken pictures of him, as if he doesn't have an album full of candid pictures he's taken of you. When he notices the way you search for him among the crowd, when your face lights up once you see him - he's so relieved he can levitate because otherwise his legs would've given out. It's no mystery that Click experiences the world through the lenses of his camera, this is how he can express himself - so knowing that his partner is looking at him with the same amount of love, adoration and attention to detail is enough to turn Click into a a smitten mess.

It takes him a long, long time to get used to simply laying down with you to rest (he doesn't need to rest the same way you do, but he still makes the effort of keeping you company if you want it) because of the possibility of meeting your gaze - so sleepy and comfortable, looking at him like he means the world to you. He knows exactly what's going through your head and the way you see him, because it's the same for him when it comes to you.

To no one's surprise, Click loves to take pictures of you.

This is a given, so I'll talk about it from a slightly different angle instead of rambling about things everyone and their dog already know.

As a ghost, the way he interacts with the physical world is extremely limited, which can be both a blessing and a curse - he can pass through walls and fly really high to get the best angles, food and water are no longer an issue, he doesn't experience life the same way everyone does and he knows this. Click, out of all supernatural entities, has adapted the best to this current state of being, but there are times when he just... forgets.

It only hits him once his hand passes right through yours, and you find yourself shivering and surprised, scolding him for trying to tease you when all he wanted was to hold your hand. When you need so many blankets just to lay down with him because he's so damn cold, an empty, lifeless void next to you, sucking up all the warmth.

And this is when Click realizes that he was content with being a ghost because he had never wanted anything in life - now that he does, it's a little jarring. There are many, many things Click wishes he could do, but he can't.

So he settles for what he knows: capturing every single moment you two spend together. He can't hold you in his arms nor feel the way you kiss his cheek, but he can still have tangible, solid proof of the love you two share in the form of pictures.

I imagine Click has many beautiful pictures of you, but the ones he loves the most are those that show all the fun he has when he's with you - this one is blurry, but he knows that's you laughing and trying to reach out for his camera to get him to stop with his antics. That one has an awful composition, but he knows that this is a picture of the first time you attempted to hug him by surprise and fell flat on your face. Another one is just an accidental picture you took of yourself, the flash blinding your eyes in the funniest expression he's ever seen.

You've made him promise time and time again to never let anyone else see such embarrassing pictures, and Click has given you his word - only because these stupid, little moments mean so much to him and he doesn't want to share them with anyone else.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #re1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 headcanons #reverse 1999 click #click #not sure if this is shorter than usual but HM #thank you for the request!

87 notes · View notes

void-galaxy-shenanigans · 3 months ago

Text

because i needed the reminder today:

it is okay to adapt & improvise “normal” tasks to work for you. it is okay to break them into smaller steps. it is okay to take breaks. it is okay to approach in a “nonsensical” way.

if it works for you, and it isn’t hurting someone, breaking a law (caveat in tags), or going to lose you a job/get you kicked out of a school that you need (bend rules as far as they’ll bend, but don’t hurt yourself/your future in the process if you can avoid it), do that.

do what works for you.

yeah, do this for more complex tasks.

do your homework one question at a time if you can. use a premade sauce to make your favourite food if you don’t have the spoons to make it the “normal” way.

make the steps smaller and do them more frequently. take longer breaks in-between.

but i’m talking ‘simple’ tasks too.

wash every outfit the day you use it, as soon as you change. ¿is it more water? maybe. but you deserve clean clothes. if it’s difficult to remember or rely on your spoons/energy/physical limits to be able to wash things once a week or once a month, then adapt. find a way that works for you.

also, if you’re also recently discovered autistic &/or ADHD, or you’re newly physically/mentally disabled (or recent ish & still coming to terms with it), I see you.

it’s frustrating to simplify or give up on things you could’ve done before. it’s exhausting to find all the things you can’t do that you always could, especially if you never thought you would see a day you can’t do it.

you are still worthy of love and care. yes, even now. especially now.

(more personal examples & also direct comfort/reassurance below the cut)

i can’t do long staircases anymore. i used to love running up them, running or hopping down the steps. now I shakily take one step at a time, leaning heavily on a cane, and my ankles/knees still tremble and hurt. (i’m hypermobile & some of my connective tissue is deteriorating.)

i can’t read academic texts by myself anymore. there’s so many feelings about that, and it’s the most recent curve of acceptance.

i realized 3 or 4 days ago that the reason i’m falling behind on the readings for astronomy & human development (which I find fascinating) is because of the length of the readings. i keep up in sociology, but it’s smaller chapters & less reading, & I can usually skim for terms & catch enough info to participate in class. but in order to pass my classes, in order to succeed, that requires me to use a text-to-speech website or app, or to have a friend read for me.

for those who don’t know, i’m a creative writer. i write fiction and poems like it’s nothing. i also love the feel of a physical book. i’ve stayed in denial, thinking that i just need to break it into small chunks.

but i got a traumatic brain injury in November of 2019, that most affected my prefrontal cortex. i need that to focus, to self-regulate. i need it to read effectively, let alone long amounts of text.

i’ve stayed in denial about how bad that injury was, because i had enough to deal with due to everything else that nasty concussion did (shaking trauma memories loose, breaking masks & layers of amnesia within trauma disorders, breaking autism mask, severe emotional dysregulation i’m still recovering from).

but i can’t keep up with university classes if i keep trying to force myself to read the same way i did before. i need to use screen readers or text-to-speech, i need to rely on friends or family. i need to accept help.

and it sucks. it’s a terrifying loss of independence. it’s frustrating. there’s a lot of grief.

but this is my life now. i have to adapt.

all this to say, be gentle and kind with yourself. treat yourself the way you want to be treated. learn to tolerate yourself. (i would say ‘accept & love yourself’ but that’s its own learning curve.) adapt your space & your actions to match your current capabilities. prioritize completing self-care tasks, even if you don’t/can’t do it perfectly.

you deserve to, and can, accommodate yourself. the world around you may not be accessible, but as much as you’re able (to your degree of independence & financial limits/budgets), find ways to accommodate yourself.

and treat yourself once in a while. it doesn’t have to be expensive or difficult. sitting in your car (if you have one) in the lot of a nature park is better than never seeing trees. a poor-quality drawing is better than never drawing again. a cheap thrifted or dollar store plushy is better than no plushy. whatever it is you want to do or have, within your limits, do it your way. treat yourself to your favourite things if you can.

we weren’t put into this world to suffer. we weren’t put in this world to lose all our dreams.

we arrived to live. we arrived to have fun. we arrived to create. we arrived to play. we arrived to love (platonic, romantic, etc.). we arrived to dance and sing (even “badly”).

and maybe your disabilities steal some of these from you. but if you can find even one thing that makes it worth it, if you can make one thing accessible again....do it. make it happen. you deserve happiness and relief and love, especially now.

and if you don’t believe it right now, that’s okay. i’ll hold hope for you until you can. 💜

~Nico

#caveat #break the law if it isn’t harmful & you won’t get caught #just don’t put yourself at risk of misdemeanor/criminality if you can avoid it #this got away from me #but like. it’s true #and heartfelt #i love you all #even strangers. we’re alive together & that’s beautiful.#~Nico #disabled #trauma #disabilities #traumatic brain injury #long post

14 notes · View notes