Dr. Jonathan Crane @dr-crxne - Tumblr Blog

@badclown

"I didn't have another appointment-" he didn't bother to lift his head, "Personal call?"

"You could say that."

She is not one to be ignored. To be fair, maybe he didn't realize his visitor was the clown prince of crime, but ignorance was no excuse in her eyes. A swift kick to the wheel of his office chair offers enough space for her to step between him and his desk, and his necktie is a convenient handle for her to push his back against the seat. She lifts one leg and slides smoothly onto his lap, straddling him as if it's the most natural thing in the world. He feels warm underneath her, and her body is already responding to that heat, something low in her coiling tighter. She exhales a low sigh, almost a growl. There is something almost animalistic in the way she wants to sink claws into him, to hear him cry out for her, for his body to buck against hers of its own volition, in desperation for her. Cold eyes appraise his expression, noting his every response.

"Thought ya might make some time fer me."

dr-crxne

Her voice tempted a small smirk onto his lips, her sudden movement did catch him off guard. As she slid into place Jon let out a small hum of concern. His hands rested on the arms of the chair waiting, studying her face his head tilted slightly. His body ignored his protests to remain stoic, his heart raced underneath her fist. Her aggression didn’t surprise him, her choice of action over it did a bit, “It seems you have a lot of your mind,” his pupils dilated when their eyes met. One hand twitches tempted to grab her waist, his jaw flexed scolding himself for entertaining the thought. “I don’t believe this is the place for such discussions,” he offered leaning back into the chair, his hips rose slightly pressing against her, a thoughtless action that made his eyes dart away for a moment.

“I’m going to guess business wasn’t good today,” he finally met her eyes again. His pulse raced in the veins of his neck as a small blush formed at the base of his neck. Every cell wanted to react lean into the pheromones that seemed to pour off the woman as she stared down onto him.

closed starter: @badclown

The fluorescent light above him buzzed in time with the pain that sang through his ribs—sharpened notes of agony each time he breathed too deeply. They hadn’t wrapped them, not properly. The guards at Arkham were not known for their bedside manner, and even less for subtlety. One had jammed a thumb into the break just to see if he’d scream. He hadn’t. Not out loud. Jonathan shifted on the cot, if only to test what movement was still tolerable. Those damned hands had landed with purpose, blunt-force judgment under a cowl.

He stared up at the ceiling, tracing the hairline crack that ran from the corner of the light fixture to the far edge of the room. He hated Arkham when it was quiet. Just the slow drip of a half-broken pipe and the scent of bleach never quite covering the rot beneath. His fingers curled against the edge of the bedframe, nails pressing into his palm with soft resistance. Perhaps he'd stay a few weeks, let his side heal and see what sort of riff raff Gotham had gotten itself tangled with. The lab could sustain itself for fourteen days unassisted.

The silence would be his challenge—only his own breath and heartbeat—felt like drowning. He no longer had distractions there. No carefully calculated formulas to anchor his spiraling thoughts. No mirrors, even, to remind himself of the man beneath the bruises. Just that single bulb above and the way it flickered every seventh second, reminding him, over and over again, that he was still alive. For now.

He heard it only a few moments later when his shoulders finally went slack, a gait he could place just about anywhere. Accompanied by two others, "Vacation?"

hrlnqnzll

dr-crxne:

He knew she was looking, felt the heat of her gaze the entire time, that she impatiently waited. It was a game they often played; she was getting better at playing. But, she didn’t run out the clock before her mouth was moving; the sounds she produced were meant to get a rise from him. The only shift from him was a deep sigh that lifted his shoulders before lowering them once again, “I’ll assume that wasn’t by request. Do you need them transferred?” He was a monster in his own right, but he hated the rude.

Setting the pen down, he finally looked up at the woman, taking his glasses off to really look at her. “Did you make a report, best to ensure they aren’t carrying something,” it was a hazard of working with the unstable. Fluids were not something that could be taken away, but they were still a weapon in the wrong hands.

Look at how immediately protective he got of her. Making sure she was okay. It was so heroic. God, he was fucking dreamy. For a moment, Harleen was entirely lost in the quality of his eye color. How could she even describe a blue that vivid, that intense? Oh shit, he was talking to her. Her focus shifted visibly as she blinked at him, then nodded. “Yeah, I mean, of course. Orderlies got ‘im in a jacket real quick and the paperwork is filed an’ everything. And I changed. My dress, I mean.” It wasn’t the first time she’d had to have a change of clothes in her office, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“The transfer though… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I mean I know I could transfer 'im, but I dunno if that would be best for the patient. But maybe I’m not the best suited to the case? Just because… well, sometimes I think my gender an’ appearance can be an influencing factah, and I don’t want to compromise treatment.” She did genuinely want his professional opinion on the matter, but she also wanted to see how he would respond to her… gender and appearance.

dr-crxne

That dazed look about her always made him curious, where did she go when she decided to get lost?A question for another time he figured as he wrote a small note to speak to the orderlies, he trusted her account but it was better to get a second witness. Replacing his glasses he turned away from her stealing a glance at his filing cabinet, he’d flag the name once they were done.

The shift from patient concerns to- it felt like an odd transition, “Was this attack promoted by your -“ he paused a moment, “appearance?” He hasn’t heard her nor other doctors mention it being an issue. If one were to ask him personally he found her appearance to be a tool, no one for every patient but some reacted better to a softer looking doctor. Someone matronly, he paused his own spiral to steal a glance again, “I think if they’re lashing out in this way another doctor would be better suited until the why is more apparent.” Came wasn’t about to comment on her dress or his opinion of its effects on the patients or staff. “This isn’t a failure on your part nor will a transfer be any issue. I have another patient being on boarders today that you can take. I’ll deal with them-“ perhaps another mouse to trial the vials in his desk. Those are the propensity for violence tended to reflect the strength and weaknesses of this latest batch.

@badclown

"I didn't have another appointment-" he didn't bother to lift his head, "Personal call?"

thesoldiersminute

Cillian Murphy | Red Lights 2012 | Rodrigo Cortés

thesoldiersminute

Cillian Murphy | The Edge of Love 2008 | John Maybury

thesoldiersminute

Cillian Murphy | The Edge of Love 2008 | John Maybury

thesoldiersminute

Cillian Murphy | The Edge of Love 2008 | John Maybury

thesoldiersminute

Peaky Blinders Season 4 | Episode 6

#self.

cillmurphyslover

I wish! From The Delinquent Season Movie

#self.

hrlnqnzll:

closed starter for @dr-crxne.

He’s busy reading something, though he undoubtedly knows she’s there. Being ignored doesn’t bother her, though. Her entire childhood was being ignored. If anything, it endeared him towards her. Maybe she only wanted his attention because he didn’t offer it freely, because he was so prickly by nature. Some people were like cacti– an evolutionary solution to having been hurt emotionally. Hold on to nourishment as long as you can and keep away from others who might cause further trauma. If it worked for plants, why not people?

Probably best not to psychoanalyze her coworkers. Professional hazard. Anyways, she was sure he would look up at her any minute now. Maybe she could communicate with him telepathically if she stared at him hard enough. Really focused. What was he reading, anyways? She shifted in her seat to get a better look, then leaned back again. She wasn’t patient enough for this game. She never had been. She’d burst into flame if there was much more of this.

Fuck it.

“A patient showed me his junk today. Then he spit on me.”

He knew she was looking, felt the heat of her gaze the entire time, that she impatiently waited. It was a game they often plated; she was getting better at playing. But, she didn’t run out the clock before her mouth was moving; the sounds she produced were meant to get a rise from him. The only shift from him was a deep sigh that lifted his shoulders before lowering them once again, “I’ll assume that wasn’t by request. Do you need them transferred?” He was a monster in his own right, but he hated the rude.

Setting the pen down, he finally looked up at the woman, taking his glasses off to really look at her. “Did you make a report, best to ensure they aren’t carrying something,” it was a hazard of working with the unstable. Fluids were not something that could be taken away, but they were still a weapon in the wrong hands.

thesoldiersminute

Peaky Blinders Season 4 | Episode 6

#self.

neshamas-deactivated20230428

CILLIAN MURPHY in RED EYE (2005)

#self.

ell4daniel

Marriage is my comfort episode

loveisalwaystheanswer

#the guy moved heaven and earth and quite literally a body so that she would have a smooth wedding day#it had nothing to do with cutting her out#he wanted her to be happy#tommy shelby sat at a table with cavalry#if that isn't love what is?

Is there anything he wouldn't do for her? NO.

#self.