#i have a very big heart and no threshold for pain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sanguineterrain · 8 months

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Hi! I love your writing so much and I'm really excited about you doing requests :) Would you consider writing a drabble (inspired by Window Pains 😉) in which Jason and Reader are in a relationship filled with trust and safety (and blood lol) but Reader becomes overwhelmed by the responsibility and worry over patching Jason up and pretty much keeping him from dying all the time? Reader breaks things off and it hurts Jason more than he ever anticipated (I'm a sucker for angst 😌).

sucker for angst eh? if you insist 😎

jason todd x gn!reader. tw jason almost dies, reader is guilty and scared and doesn't want to lose him etc etc. breakup. marinate in the unresolved angst! hehe

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

Now with a pt 2!

****

You're shaking by the time you get back to Jason's apartment.

His heart had stopped. He'd been alone in a warehouse, comms fried, clinically dead for three minutes.

He'd died.

"He'll be okay," Dick had said, but you'd seen the way he'd cradled his baby brother's head in his lap.

He very easily could've not been okay.

"Take it easy," you say as Jason hobbles through the threshold.

You trail behind him with his duffel over your shoulder and the bag of medication Alfred had prepared in your hand. Jason slumps onto the couch. He hisses when the movement jostles his bandaged ribs.

"Why aren't you in bed?" you ask, setting his duffel down.

"'Cause I'll keep you up. Pain meds always give me nightmares. 'S why I told Bruce not to give 'em to me. But does the old man listen? No, of fucking course not."

"Jason, I don't care if you wake me up with your nightmares. Your body needs to heal. It can't do that if you're on a lumpy couch."

"Baby, it's not a big deal," he says, not even looking at you. "I'll be fine in a couple of days anyway. Babs said there's some trafficking ring in Crime Alley. If I time it right, I can get—"

You throw the bag of pills onto the table. Jason doesn't flinch but he does look at you, one brow raised.

"Wh—"

"You were clinically dead for three minutes!" you shout. "What don't you understand about that?"

"What are you talking about?" he asks, face pinching. "I was fine. I'm alive. I'm here. Close calls happen all the time."

"You died! Your heart stopped!"

"Not the first time," he says evenly.

As soon as he says it, you can tell he regrets it. You crumple all the same, bracing yourself against the couch.

"I can't sit around waiting for you to die, Jason," you say quietly. "That'll break me for good."

"Baby, you were there. You're always there in time, and Dick was—"

"Dick could've been a minute late, and then I would've had to hold my dead boyfriend until the ambulance came," you say, closing your eyes.

You can't get the image of Jason, pale and lifeless in Dick's arms, out of your head.

"I wouldn't have... sweetheart, I would've been okay. I'm always okay—"

You cover your face as you start to cry. Jason makes a soft noise.

"Baby, don't cry, please. I wasn't—I'm sorry I scared you, honey."

"I can't do this, Jay, I can't lose you," you cry, palms wet with tears.

"You won't! I'll be more careful, I promise—"

"I can't keep you alive, Jason. I can't—can't do it anymore."

You pick up your bag and your phone, walking towards the door.

"Baby," Jason starts, fear bleeding into his voice. "Sweetheart, stop. Stop it. Where are you going?"

"I'm going home," you say, wiping your cheek. "I'm done, Jay. I can't do this."

"No, no, baby, please. Please, baby, it's late, don't go. I don't want you to go. This is home," Jason says desperately, trying to stand up from the couch.

"Jay, sit down before you pull your stitches," you say.

He ignores you. You open the door and wince when he grunts in pain. He's too slow to stop you tonight, and that's all the reminder you need to leave.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I love you, Jason. But I can't watch you kill yourself."

"Please—"

The door shuts behind you. You start walking before you can change your mind.

You'll never be too late to save Jason Todd.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd angst #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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theold-ultraviolence · 4 months

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One day Alicent comes over, reader lets her in, and she can hear this loud like scream laughing in the other room, Amealia’s shrieks of joy and amusement and Aemond’s laughing, so loud and and so joyous and free, and reader says ‘oh sorry Aemond is playing with Amaelia in there’ like this is the most normal occurrence. And Alicent can’t believe that’s her son. That’s he being so silly and free. But this is Aemond with reader and especially Amaelia this is him everyday now

Hey there dear!! once again, thank you for your patience, when I don´t reply right away to an ask like this is because I know my silly brain will wanna write something longer, and this was the case! I ADORED THIS SO MUCH, THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS!! my heart

As she steps through the threshold of her son's home, Alicent's big doe eyes widen even more, fixing her gaze on her daughter-in-law as her ears catch the shrieking noises and the boisterous sound of her granddaughter's laughter coming from another room.

The music of her Amaelia's delight is already familiar to Alicent. The little girl is a lively spirit, so different from how Alicent's own children used to be. So different from how Aemond has always been: quiet, brooding, reserved. An eternal wallflower.

This is why it's not the sound of Amaelia's laughter that freezes Alicent on the spot, but that of a man's: deep and breathy, straight from their chest, and so, so very warm.

Surely this isn't Aemond. It cannot be.

Not when it's not even noon yet, as Alicent's here to go out with Aemond's family for lunch.

She's never met anyone that's already this giddy in the early morning.

Is there another man interacting with her granddaughter!? does Alicent's daughter-in-law have another man in the house!?

This flash of judgment must have passed through Alicent's eyes without meaning to, for her daughter-in-law is quick to set her nerves at ease when she gestures to the other room, after taking Alicent's coat in hand.

"Sorry for the noise! Aemond is playing with Amaelia...it's one of those days where we struggle to get her dressed!" her daughter-in-law says with a playful chuckle as she leads Alicent towards the hall.

What greets her eyes - that had grown so tired around the corners, from having only witnessed grief and melancholy in her lifetime - is a sight that she's only ever seen in distant dreams and delusions of another life where her children didn't grow up to distance themselves from her.

Aemond doubles over the tiny frame of his daughter as he laughs, before picking her up, swinging her around up, up, up in the air before dropping her onto her bed and making her bounce, before he tackles her and tickles her until Amaelia's crying, "no more, no more!!!!"

But she exclaims with a bright, toothy grin and eyes that sparkle with happiness, as she turns to see her dad, and flings her arms so he can pick her up and do that again.

Aemond picks her in his arms and sways her before filling her with a series of loving kisses to her tummy and cheeks that just make her laugh even more.

Alicent's long practiced refined smile doesn't convey the depth of her happiness in this moment. Her heart, a wilted rose, blooms once more, and breathes with joyous life at sight. She turns around, not wanting to intrude in such a happy moment.

She manages to lightly squeeze her daughter-in-law's shoulder, before gratefully accepting a cup of coffee to wait for Aemond to get Amaelia ready.

Alicent never mentions what she sees to her son - so unused to open-hearted conversations in her old age. But it's a memory that will always be treasured in her heart from now on.

It's a memory that makes every moment of pain she's endured, worth it.

#aemond targaryen #modern!aemond #dad!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #my oc: amaelia targaryen #modern au #modern!aemond's family #my aus #my writing #aemond targaryen fanfiction

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rainsoftenings · 1 year

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MOLDY REFUSE HEAP — You study the earth. A pitiful attempt at compost lies before you, a smear of dirt and disarray, with plenty of manmade, shattered objects strewn in alongside the organic material. A loaf of bread, still wrapped in its plastic lining, though with a huge gash on the side exposing it to the elements, is festooned with little brown mushrooms.

INLAND EMPIRE — Those mushrooms are looking at you. Mocking you.

YOU — What? They're mushrooms...

INLAND EMPIRE — Look at that one with its ugly little head. Looks like a big wart, and also like it's giving you the finger. Are you going to let that bastard give you the finger?

HALF-LIGHT — SHOOT IT! It's trying to make you look stupid!

YOU — [Draw your gun and aim it at the mushroom-bread wad.]

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant shifts nervously, trying to parse your movements. He'll no doubt wrest the gun away from you should the need arise.

YOU — [Shout.] "Tell me the name of God, you fungal piece of shit!"

SHIVERS — The bread, which once seemed inert, writhes with life before your very eyes. Wheat from faraway fields is milled into flour, mixed with water and sugar and yeast and baked in some mass-production facility God knows how far away only to come to rest, spurned and uneaten, at your feet. No, not uneaten- the yeast, another fungus, was killed, incinerated, in the process of baking. The mold reclaims what remains of its fallen brethren. If you listen close enough, you can almost hear it speaking...

SHIVERS — CAN YOU FEEL YOUR HEART BURNING. CAN YOU FEEL THE STRUGGLE WITHIN. THE FEAR WITHIN ME IS BEYOND ANYTHING YOUR SOUL CAN MAKE. YOU CANNOT KILL ME IN A WAY THAT MATTERS.

YOU — [Cock your gun.] "I'M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU!"

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant's muscles tense now, poised to strike. A look of apprehension- no, fear and concern- crosses his face...

YOU — [Shoot the piece of moldy bread.] PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You hadn't realized it, but your whole frame is trembling, shaking. Tears stream down your face. You hunch, in shame and agony. Like some forgotten gargoyle creature out of myth.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Failure] — The recoil sends a throb down your arm, like you've just been kicked.

KIM KITSURAGI — He places a hand on your shoulder, and you flinch. "Detective, if I may be so bold as to ask... What did you mean by that?"

COMPOSURE [Difficult: Success] — Hey now. Straighten up. It's Kim. You must answer in a coherent fashion.

INLAND EMPIRE — Screw coherence. The fervent squigglings of your brain will emerge from your mouth until the very stars blink out.

YOU — [Compose yourself.] "Decay exists as an extant form of life."

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant blinks, bewildered. He has no response to that, to your frighteningly calm visage, still stained with drying tears. Behind him, the drunks raise their glasses of brew, yowl a cheer.

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Terrifying answer, Tequila Sunset! Have a nice day!”

#disco elysium #just going through the backlog for the best of these imo #kim kitsuragi #idiot doom spiral

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thaisibir · 3 months

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Phantom Thieves react to getting anesthesia: headcanons from a real anesthetist

Ren: wakes up unusually chatty, thinks the recovery room nurse is Sae in the interrogation room, talks about all the stuff he has to do to increase his social stats

Ryuji: won't shut up about being a Phantom Thief and rats out his friends as Phantom Thieves (fortunately none of the OR staff believe him because they chalk it up to post-op delirium)

Ann: confesses her undying love to the recovery room nurse taking care of her (which destroys Morgana)

Yusuke: wakes up reciting a very long list of all the hospital food he wants to eat, ends up not eating for a while due to having the terrible luck of previously undiagnosed post-op nausea and vomiting (PONV sucks, and known history of it in a patient definitely affects the anesthetic plan. A lot of drugs in our disposal have anti-nausea properties: propofol, decadron, zofran being the most common. But a bunch of others can do the exact opposite and cause nausea: opioids, anesthetic gas, etomidate (which I call vomidate) etc. It's a careful balance of what meds to use and which to avoid, and it depends on the patient.)

Makoto: wakes up alternating between yakuza movie quotes and swearing every other word from surgery pain (a bad habit she got from Sae, who swears like a sailor out of work stress when she thinks Makoto can't hear)

Futaba: takes fore-fuckin'-ever to get to sleep, gets slugged with enough medication to knock out a 100 kg 6 foot tall man (redheads are known for needing higher than average anesthetic to go past the threshold of consciousness and awareness. This is actual book knowledge plus my own clinical experience. Futaba would be a real chore to anesthetize.)

Haru: wakes up throwing hands, swinging fists and feet into OR staff, keeps asking for her axe, has to be restrained to the bed until enough sedatives kick in to calm her down (little kids, teenage girls and big healthy guys tend to wake up violently as the anesthetic wears off. The solution and wonder drug for this: precedex.)

Morgana: makes a weepy proposal to Ann, launches into verbal treatises and theories on the psychology of the Metaverse (which just sounds like incoherent meowing and yowling to the vets)

And for the honorary PTs:

Sojiro: the amount of gunk and spit suctioned out of his mouth before removing the airway device is through the roof (suctioning the mouth and throat is super important during emergence of anesthesia, so that stuff doesn't make the vocal cords spaz out and slam shut, which is laryngospasm, an airway emergency. Smokers tend to produce excessive oral secretions, and if they smoke enough, it can even look gray and brown. Lovely huh?)

Sae: has a low heart rate in the 40s that kind of unnerves OR staff, but that's only because she's very athletic (very fit people can have pretty low baseline heart rate, because exercise remodels the heart to optimize blood output for less work/heart rate. Normal heart rate range is 60-100 bpm, but I've seen Ironman type athletes have 30-40 bpm.)

#persona 5 #persona 5 headcanons #ren amamiya #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #morgana persona 5 #yusuke kitagawa #makoto niijima #futaba sakura #haru okumura #sojiro sakura #sae niijima #this was fun. hope you learned a bit of medical stuff today

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

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Hello, can I request 21 or 24 with Steven Grant, with him needing comfort. Gn or male reader.

Fondness for Breaking Apart (Steven Grant x gn!reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be tagged?

Prompts: “i didn’t know where else to go.” / “i didn’t have anywhere else to go.” and “oh, god, i’m sorry about your shirt.” *shirt is drenched in tears* “it’s okay. i was planning on throwing it out anyway.”

Warnings: Angst, mentions of Wendy Spector, brief mentions of Marc, drowning, animal attack, nightmares, anxiety attacks, injury and tending to injury, mention of abuse and trauma.

A/N: Hi there nonnie! Thank you so much for this ask. This episode of sad is brought to you by Atlee. Now, if you don’t know who Atlee is, good for you, keep it that way, trust me. But if you do know who Atlee is, bestie are you good?

Word Count: 1.3k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steven was frozen. All he could see was the water level steadily rising, and going past his ankles, knees and then hips. He tried to call out for someone, anyone, but he couldn’t, almost as if someone had stolen his voice from him. He almost forgot who he was and what he was doing there.

He was in a cave and it was dark, except for a glowing scale directly in front of him. A toy alligator bobbed up and down the water and it soon turned into a real alligator, snapping its jaws at Steven. His eyes widened and he finally could move, but it was too late, the alligator was close and the water was up to his chest. He screamed and flailed his arms, trying to swim away, but it caught him, searing pain shooting up his body as blood filled his vision.

Steven woke up with a start, trying to swing himself off the bed but his leg caught the bedpost and he went tumbling face first onto the hardwood floor. His heart started to constrict in his chest and he couldn’t breathe again, as if he had used all of his strength to scream. His whole body hurt and he was pretty sure his nose was bleeding as he took heaving breaths to settle his lungs.

He was shaking and he couldn’t find Marc anywhere in the headspace. He sobbed, big globs of tears falling onto the floor, wondering why he had been left alone. He didn’t know what to do or say as he cried without a single sound. Another image popped into his mind and he reached out for it, focusing on it before deciding his next course of action. He crawled towards his door and used the shelf beside it as an anchor for him to stand up. He shakily pulled at all of the locks and flung the door open, stumbling across the threshold to your apartment, hitting your doorbell.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You had been fast asleep but you were awoken to the sound of your doorbell. You glance at the wall clock which reads 1: 25 am and you slip out of bed, worried and confused. Maybe you had just been dreaming up the sound, but it didn’t hurt to check. You opened the door and caught a glimpse of your neighbour leaning against the doorframe.

“Steven?” you said sleepily, and gasped as he lifted his head to look at you.

His dark circles were more prominent than usual, but his usually rosy cheeks were dull and slathered with tears, along with blood that trailed from his nose. He slumped forward and you caught him, supporting the back of his neck as he cried into the crook of your neck. You pull him inside and shut the door behind him, sitting down onto the floor and pulling him down with you. You didn’t ask him what was wrong, you just held onto him as his body shook and his tears dampened your shoulder.

You noticed that Steven cried very quietly, almost soundlessly weeping in the most heartbreaking fashion. Remember how you train yourself to cry quietly so that your parents would not hit you and you tried to not let your memories get the best of you. You ran a hand up and down his back soothingly until he stilled and sniffed softly against you. Suddenly, a hiss of pain emitted against your neck and you pulled away hastily to see Steven touching his nose.

“Oh, Steven, let’s get you some tea and clean you up, yeah?” you said, standing up and pulling him up with you.

He stumbled and you realised that he wasn’t putting any of his weight on his left leg. You knelt down and set his hand on your shoulder for balance, rolling up his pyjama pants to check his leg. Sure enough there was a huge bruise the size of your fist forming on his shin and you hissed at its size.

You slowly stirred Steven to the soft plush sofa and went to put the kettle on and grab your supplies. You came back almost instantly and placed Steven’s leg up on a cushion and gently laid out your cold pack on it. Steven was looking down and you used your fingers to push against the underside of his chin, lifting his head up so that he was at eye level with you.

You sighed and began to work, cleaning Steven’s nose with a cotton ball dipped in distilled water. Once cleaned, you noticed that the blood wasn’t coming from inside of his nose, but from the bridge of his nose where a small cut had formed. Steven’s nose was still dripping from when he was crying and you grabbed a few tissues and held it at his nose.

“Blow, softly.” you whispered.

He did with a few hisses of discomfort and you examined the tissue for any sign of blood before sighing with relief. Tossing the tissue into your makeshift basket, you continued with your little assignment. Steven’s eyes twitched as you dabbed the area with a little bit of betadine before placing some gauze on it and gently tapping it down with medical tape.

“I’m so sorry about your shirt.” Steven sniffed apologetically as his hand tried to brush away the blood, snot and tears that clung to the fabric.

“It’s alright Steven, I was gonna throw it out anyway.” you said, offering him a small smile to accompany your joke.

You handed him the cup of tea and he sipped slowly staring into space.

“I didn’t know where else to go…” he said softly and a tear ran down his cheek.

“Steven, look, I’m always here and it's alright.” you said, wiping the tear away.

“I-i can’t find Marc and I don’t know what's going on.” the tears were coming down quick again and you jumped up onto the sofa and cuddled Steven as his breathing became more raggard.

“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure he’s still there. He’s just probably exhausted.” you said soothingly, rubbing Steven’s shoulder, hoping to god that Marc was still there for the sake of the both of you.

“Look, why don’t we go and sit on the balcony for a while, yeah? I need you to take some deep breaths Steven.” You said and you led him towards the balcony and sat him on the floor.

You laced your fingers with his and held onto him tightly as his breathing slowly evened out. He leaned on your shoulder as the both of you stared up at the moon, which was shining all bright and beautiful in the sky.

“You know what Steven? There was an old wives tale about how if you lie on your mothers lap and look up at the moon, whatever you asked it would come true.” you mumbled, leaning your head against his.

Steven stayed silent for a while as you both listened to the sound of traffic down below.

“My mom was an abusive alcoholic, so I doubt she’d let me lie on her lap.” Steven casually chuckled thickly.

Tears filled in your eyes as you softly punched him, as your heart broke further at his situation you quickly rubbed away the tears that dropped out.

“Lie on my lap, Steven” you whispered.

“Huh”

“I said, lie on my lap.” you said a little firmer, confident with your decision.

Steven gently lays his head on your lap and you bring your hand to his head to caress his hair.

“Make a wish, any wish, and don’t tell me.” you said as Steven looked up at the moon.

He closed his eyes and wished that you would never leave him the way everyone did all his life. He nodded once he was done and you glared up at the moon as angry tears left your eyes.

“If the moon doesn’t fulfill your wish, I’ll fight him myself.” you said, and you had a weird feeling that it was listening by the way Steven chuckled.

You continued to stroke his hair as the both of you sobbed away, absorbing the comfort from each other’s company. Only when he was asleep did you kiss his forehead whispering in his ear that you’d never leave him, promising him as you too laid down and stared into the night sky.

Reblogs are appreciated~~~~

Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @autismsupermusicalassassin @alexxavicry @flordelalunas @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @celiaswife @violet-19999 @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld

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green-fifteen · 3 months

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Day 4: Harry Du Bois Gets a Clue

Prompt: Learn Fandom: Disco Elysium Pairing: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi Word count: 796 Summary: YOU - Wait, you have a boyfriend? read on AO3 instead

for @fluffyfebruary

DESK OF HARRIER DU BOIS - Spilled coffee streams down the side of your desk, drips from paperwork that is due to be processed in only a few hours. The papers are fully soaked now, however. Along with your badge and the end of your tie.

PERCEPTION [Easy: Success] - There is someone standing behind you, watching the coffee spread over the floor.

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "Oh, nice. I was thinking your workstation was getting too neat. Only right that a fucking mess gets to wallow in his own disaster."

YOU - "You know what? This is the end for me."

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "Don't be an idiot. If you were going to die, you would have done it already."

YOU - "No, I really think this time is the one. Each day only brings new torment."

VOLITION - It does feel bad, but you might be exaggerating. You're already thinking about where you're going to find a mop and a cloth to clean this mess.

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "No, absolutely. You're right. Just end it, Dick Mullen! It's not like your boyfriend would have anything to say about it-- then again I wouldn't put it past you to forget that when you take the shot."

LOGIC [Easy: Failure] - Boyfriend?

YOU - "Boyfriend?"

JEAN VICQUEMARE - "I am not doing this with you, you prick. Fuck off." He strides away.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - Since you've been back from Martinaise in one piece (minus some core memories), you might have laid it on kind of thick one or two times. Things like 'Jean, help me file these reports, I don't know where anything is because I have amnesia.' and 'Jules, can you call Requisitions for me, I don't know the number because I have amnesia." You suspect, no-- you know your amnesia is getting on everyone's nerves.

EMPATHY - He's a little worried about you, anyway. That's probably why he mentioned your boyfriend.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Challenging: Failure]- Wait a damn minute. Back to the boyfriend thing. Did you forget about him? Was he swept away in the flood of booze and amphetamines, along with everything else? You're getting a sick feeling in your stomach.

PERCEPTION - At that very moment, you see your partner. He just walked in from the snow, his hat peppered with snowflakes. He makes eye contact.

ELECTRO-CHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - Your stupid heart beats a little off tempo.

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success]- Kim always knows what to do. Ask Kim about this.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant comes closer, unwinding his long scarf and removing his hat. He gives you a small smile as he sits down across from you.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Good morning, detective."

YOU - "Good morning."

INLAND EMPIRE - You shouldn't rush into questioning him. Just be friendly, first.

YOU - "So, Jean said I have a boyfriend."

KIM KITSURAGI - "He did?" One eyebrow is lifted high on his face.

YOU - "I spilled my coffee all over my desk, that's why he brought it up."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Okay," he says, sounding unsure but still smiling at you. "I don't mind. I know we haven't talked about it precisely and 'boyfriend' is perhaps a tad puéril… but it's good enough for most people in relationships."

YOU - You have no idea what he's talking about.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Don't you? Don't you feel that, champ?

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Challenging: Success] - Kim is looking at you with humor, seeming to expect you to take your time. Suddenly, it's very clear: Kim Kitsuragi is your boyfriend.

ELECTRO-CHEMISTRY [Medium: Success]- YEAH! YES! Holy shit, do you know what this means? Boyfriends make out, big dog! They do more than that. They touch each other, Harry. Tell Kim you want to touch him, right now. Maybe you can convince him to do it on your desk.

VOLITION - Do not do that. You're at work, don't embarrass yourself.

LOGIC - Your desk is covered in coffee.

DRAMA - But what if he said yes, my lord? Think of the spectacle-- the other officers would know then, wouldn't they? They would all know that Kim Kitsuragi belongs to you.

YOU - "Gah."

KIM KITSURAGI - He looks on the verge of laughter. His eyes are folded up in mirth behind his glasses.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Come over again tonight. I'm cooking."

ELECTRO-CHEMISTRY [Godly: Success]- Ask if you should bring your pajamas.

YOU - "Should I bring my pajamas?"

KIM KITSURAGI - He can't resist chuckling softly at the look on your face.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - You're certain you know the face you're making. It's a terribly fond one, with a heavy flavor of awe. You look like someone just handed you a warm puppy.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I would like that."

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witchywillowsblog · 1 year

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❣︎ 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝑂𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆 ❣︎ [𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑/ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄??]

A dbf!Joel x f!reader fanfic based on the song ‘memories’ by Conan Gray.

Warnings: big age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel is 52), angsty if you squint, tension, eventual smut (none in this part, sorry), parent death, dbf!Joel, f!reader

Can’t think of anymore, If there is though, please let me know :)

(𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚎𝚊. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢! :])

It was almost physically painful how infatuated you had become over a man who barely expresses emotions and who is, of course, your dads best friend. You were 20 when your dad had met Joel through Tommy who your dad was already comfortably acquainted with. Your now 24, Joel is 52; it’s beautifully risky how big the age gap is, and some sick part of you enjoys the idea, the chase, the way it feels so very forbidden.

One small (or rather big) problem, Joel is reluctant and barely willing to show if he even shares the same flutter within his chest every time there’s a fleeting glance between you two. One where you can see a different glow within his eyes, one which sometimes lingers longer than the norm, scanning you entirely from bottom to top. Sure, you’ve had a few people in your life who have come close to stealing your heart, but when they say something along the lines of “I would love to take this further” or something like that, your heart sinks. As if there’s already a space that’s been taken over by a man with broad shoulders, calloused hands and ruffled hair that sits gorgeously on his forehead. I don’t know, maybe the man who is your dads best friend for Pete sake. Your heart also sinks because, you want to so badly let go, to move on. It feels almost impossible though, you’ll finally get to a point where the person sitting across from you is looking at you with promising eyes and lovely words and you think to yourself “maybe I can finally find peace and happiness with this person”. Then you go visit your dad to watch a movie and have a few drinks and there he is, sitting on the sofa, legs slightly spread, arm resting on the top of the couch, few top buttons of his shirt not done up. And the air is completely knocked out of your lungs, an almost crushing wave collapsing down onto you. That person from before doesn’t look like peace and happiness, Joel does.

Your standing in the threshold of the front door almost lost in a trance, staring helplessly at the back of Joel’s head, eyeing his shoulders. Your interrupted though, as your dad enthusiastically has his arms raised, one holding a bottle of unopened beer, walking towards you, half yelling in a sing song.

“There’s my favourite girl! Helloo”

His definitely halfway between tipsy and drunk.

Your swallowed by a tight embrace, your arms awkwardly hugging one of his arms back as your other hand is occupied by your bag.

“Heyy”, you reply with a grin trying to hide the fact that you were gawking at, once again, your dad’s best friend. Speaking of, you glance towards Joel and almost immediately turn away as he was already looking back.

“Now my, my, you’re all dolled up. What guy bored you enough this time to come here again?” Your dad shares jokingly. You can only giggle in response, scratching the back of your neck; you know full well why you’re here at your dads place again after a date instead of going home with said date and making out, probably maybe get bent over if your lucky enough. Maybe, if your so lucky, Joel could bend you over his own thigh right now with the way his shameless man spreading, the fabric of his jeans tight against his-

“Mm, who wouldn’t want to come here for fun? We are most definitely more entertaining than some dude talkin off y’ear all evening.” Joel replied, turned towards you two from the sofa, staring especially intently at you, taking a swig of his drink while grinning as he notices you staring back. It felt all too flirty.

“That-“ your dad dramatically points towards Joel. “-is correct. Now, what film would my baby like to watch.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, smiling ear to ear down at you. You let out a breathy chuckle as both you and your dad walk into the living room. You can’t help but greatly appreciate these moments; your dad always impossibly happy to see you walk through his door every time no matter how many times you’re here, the glow of the tv in the dim lit room, the laughter and the jokes thrown between your dad and Joel. It’s warm, this feeling. These past few years have somehow been the best and yet worst years of your life. Your mum had passed away in a car accident only a year before your dad had met Joel. In some strange way, he had saved the both of you. Yes, you may have spent nights in your bed at shockingly late hour’s crying because the very presence of a man that you’re on the brink of falling in love with is unattainable and makes you feel insane, you also would never let go of this. Of him.

“Uhh, I think I’ll have a drink first and think about it.” You answer as you take a sit at the other end of the sofa, a distance away from Joel. He briefly follows your movements, turning his head subtly to look you up and down before taking another drink of, your guessing, beer.

“Of course, of course. I’ll go get that for ya.” Your dad smiles before turning a corner into the kitchen.

It’s just you and joel now.

Joel sniffs, rubbing his face, leaning further back into the sofa and adjusting himself. You should of ignored it. Could of. But you were intensely focused on the action, swiftly glancing to look at him, pursing your lips and inhaling.

“So, what’s the name of this guy?”, Joel casually asks, with that same grin that makes your heart momentarily stammer. You pause almost not wanting to relive the heartbreak on the poor guys face as you told him you had to exscuse yourself as you gave him fake promises.

𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘑𝘰𝘦𝘭．

Is what you think to yourself. What you wanna say. But instead you opt for the easy small talk.

“Mm, not an important one.”, playfully answering.

“Hm.” Joel hums in understanding and agreement. “Wanna tell me what went wrong this time or?”

You lean back and let out a frustrated sigh. “I just…” your eyes scan the room as you try to form an answer in your mind. “I feel like, like I would be settling.” You turn to look at joel saying the last words. His expression is calm and focused, he’s listening to you. “Settling because they don’t entirely meet my expectations but I would be happy enough that I’m comfortable. If that makes any sense.” You gesture your hands and roll your eyes listening to your own words and feeling stupid. Joel moves his arm off from the top of the sofa, placing it on his thigh, tilting his head, eyes attentive.

“No, I understand you. Why do you think I’ve stayed alone all these years”, he lets out a breathy, half chuckle. Smiling, you tilt your head towards him.

“Well that’s not entirely true, you have me and my dad” you reply in an almost playful tone. Joel let’s out the same hum he usually does, normally meaning he’s agreeing.

“You need someone that feels more like home almost…”, Joel speaks, looking in front of him at nothing, in thought. “Familiar..”

You furrow you brows in confusion at this, not sure what he’s implying. Or you do and you’re just trying to not think too hard about it…about him. Imagining a life with him, imagining waking up under the soft light of the sun trickling through the open gaps in the curtains, Joel’s arms wrapped securely around you, bringing you a comfort that your dates could never even get close to.

𝙂𝙤𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙙.

You almost don’t notice, but a small grin starts to appear on Joel’s lips. He barely opens his mouth to speak, before your dad comes back from the kitchen with three cans of drinks in his raised hands, a smile plastered across his face.

“Ahhh, the drinks are finally here!” Your dad, more than enthusiastically says. He tosses a can to you and Joel, Joel of course catches it like it’s nothing. You pay too much attention to small things like that, observe him like his a painting in a gallery.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #dbf!joel #smut #thelastofus #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel x you #f!reader #oldermen #angst #angsty #sad?

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bratshaws · 8 months

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through the hourglass 229. brb x oc

a/n: i just love writing them bonding. I do :) (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

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@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

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Bradley does follow Mav into the kitchen, his brows furrowed at the box. It wasn’t that big, maybe just a bit bigger than a shoe box, it looked old and very…frail, it was glued at the sides by yellowed tape.

Rooster looked from the box to his uncle then repeated the motion a few more times, crossing his arms as he leaned on the threshold, ‘...are you going to tell me?”

“What?”

He nods towards it, “What’s inside.”

“Oh,Bradley,” he tuts, using his real name, “You have to learn patience.”

Rooster let out a dramatic sigh, clearly not thrilled with Maverick's teasing, pressing his temple to the wooden threshold. "I am patient."

Maverick chuckled, patting Rooster on the back as he made his way to the table. "Don't worry, it's nothing nefarious. In fact, it's something quite special."

“Hm.”

“Come on,” Maverick throws his hands up with a smile, ‘Don’t you trust me?”

“With my life.” and his nephew’s words made his teasing demeanor simmer for a bit, a gentle pain in his heart after hearing those words. “But you also,” he points to the box, “Do a lot of weird shit,Mav. I know you. I grew up with you.”

His uncle just clicks his tongue, “Don’t worry about that. Bea is with Nicole you said?” Rooster nods, “Good, good.”

“...why?”

“Well, no reason.’ Pete smirks, patting the box, “But it’d be nice if she was here to see it.”

Rooster purses his lips, narrowing his eyes and then lean back from the kitchen to see the staircase better, “Gorgeous! Mav’s here!” he calls, never raising his voice and just alerting her about the sudden visit. Beatrice replies something that resembles a ‘coming!’ before he hears her moving around the twins’ nursery.

Beatrice then appears on the top of the stairs, holding Nicole on her left side while tucking a few strands of brown hair behind her ear, “Sorry.” she smiles, slowly walking down, “I was checking some stuff in the twins’ nursery and-” he holds out his hand when she’s within reach, making his wife blush and clear her throat, gently taking the offer “A-And well,Nikki woke up.”

He kisses the back of her hand noisily, “It’s alright.” he repeats the motion with Nicole’s smaller hand, kissing her nose after, “We got a visitor.”

“I heard! Hi Mav!” the Captain gives her a short finger wave and Beatrice blinks, “What’s in the box?”

Maverick grinned at Beatrice's question, his eyes twinkling as he moved towards Rooster’s “You two are so alike.” he says, earning a confused smile from the brunette and an eyeroll from Bradley . "Well, I suppose I can't keep it a secret any longer," he replied, reaching for the box and carefully opening it to reveal its contents.

“Finally.”

“Oh,shush.” he pauses, then inhales shakily, ‘Well,” he slowly parts the lids open, revealing more from the inside. Rooster and Beatrice approach, the younger pilot craning his head to see it better…then his mouth dropped.

“Where…did you get this?”

“I’ve had it for…a while.” he confesses, gently moving the box a bit until he finally pulls it out, “And I thought it was time for you to have it.”

It was Goose’s jacket. Well, one of them at least. Maverick and Carole used to joke he’d never use it because he either preferred his Hawaiian shirts or he just forgot it somewhere…Maverick holds it in front of his eyes a bit, “Your mom sent it to me.” he explains, “She…said she couldn’t see it for too long, y’know. And…well, it is pretty new. Your dad never used it that often.”

Rooster couldn't take his eyes off the jacket that now lay in Maverick's hands. It was Goose's flight jacket, a piece of his father's history that he had only seen in photographs and heard about in stories. The jacket was worn but well-preserved, it wasn’t even stitched

He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the unfamiliar patches and insignias. "I can't believe you kept this all these years," Rooster murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

Beatrice, too, was taken aback by the significance of the jacket. She watched the exchange between Rooster and Maverick, gasping quietly with her hand covering her mouth. She placed a hand on his back when he seemed to wobble a bit, in surprise, keeping him steady in case he felt dizzy.

Rooster finally looked up from the jacket, his eyes meeting Maverick's. "You…I…”

“I know.”

Rooster licked his lips, gently tracing the ‘Bradshaw’ written on the lapel, “...did she sent this to you because…because of the talk you guys had?” and Maverick looked guilty as he nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek ,”...shit. I…damn. How long–?”

“I don’t know.” Maverick shrugs, “You were…I think thirteen when she sent it to me.”

They were still talking back then,Rooster thought. He had just gotten the growth burst’ and was slowly towering over pretty much everyone in his life…but somehow, even now at 39 years old, that jacket looked enormous to him.

Beatrice smiles sweetly, rubbing his back, kissing his shoulder before asking, “You okay?”

Rooster nodded after a few seconds, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. "Yeah, I'm okay," he replied, his voice a bit shaky. He reached out and gently touched the jacket once more, as if trying to connect with the father he had lost too soon. "It's just...unexpected. I never thought I'd see this."

Maverick smiled "I thought it’d be a good birthday gift.” he whispered, “Your mom…also agreed you could have it, one day. But she wouldn’t be able to give it to you.”

Rooster's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he absorbed the weight of the moment. He let out a nervous huff followed by a chuckle "Wow…um…Thank you," Rooster finally said, his voice filled with gratitude. He turned to Maverick, his eyes locked on his uncle's. "This means the world to me, Mav. I can't express how much…it means to me.”

Maverick's eyes softened, and he patted Rooster on the back. "You're welcome, kiddo. So,try it on.”

“What?”

“Try it on.” he points to it, “The jacket.”

Beatrice couldn't help but smile, looking from Rooster to Maverick, seeing her husband’s eyes widen and his mouth part open in surprise. And the subtle shake on his hands as he brings the jacket close

“I…” he begins, “...try it on?”

“If you want-” Maverick adds, ready to fold it away but Rooster brings it to his chest, protecting it from the outside forces - aka, his godfather.

“No!No,I…I want to,I…” Rooster inhales, “I…I’m going to try it on.”

Rooster carefully unfolded the jacket, his hands trembling slightly with both excitement and nervousness. It felt so heavy yet so light?

As he slipped into it, he couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions wash over him. It was like time moved in slow motion as he slid his arms into the sleeves. The weather was a bit chilly so…he wasn’t complaining about how it felt.

The jacket was…just perfect in size. It was a bit snug on his shoulders, and the sleeves were a bit too short on his wrists, but it felt like a warm embrace from the past. He glanced at Beatrice, who watched him with a soft smile, she looked so proud.

"You look incredible," she whispered, her voice laced with admiration. “How do you feel?”

Rooster's heart swelled with a mix of emotions as he looked down at the jacket. "I …” he pats the worn leather, feeling each patch touch his finger tips, ‘...I…I feel…wow. I don’t even know how to describe what I feel right now.”

Maverick smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with genuine happiness. "It suits you, kid," he said, pride evident in his voice.

Rooster couldn't help but chuckle, a mix of emotions bubbling within him. "I can't believe I'm wearing my dad's jacket. I never thought I'd see it, let alone wear it."

Beatrice stepped closer, her hand reaching out to gently touch the sleeve of the jacket. "It's like you're carrying a piece of your dad with you," she said softly, her eyes filled with warmth.

He nodded, his throat tightening with emotion. "Yeah, it is."

The four of them stood there, in the kitchen for a little while just talking amongst themselves…but Nicoel wasn’t getting what was going on. She chewed on her teething ring for a few seconds, then leaned closer to her father as they talked, touching his shoulder and letting out an ‘aa’ to get his attention.

“Roos,I think she wants to be held.” Bea smiles, “By you,LC.’

Rooster's heart swelled with a mix of emotions as he looked down at his daughter,she was reaching out to him, her tiny hands grasping at the air as if trying to touch him. It was a heartwarming sight, and he couldn't help but smile down at her.

"I could never say no to her," Rooster said with a soft chuckle. He carefully scooped Nicole into his arms, holding her close to his chest. She immediately snuggled against him, her wide eyes gazing up at him with curiosity.

Rooster gently rocked Nicole in his arms, his deep voice filled with affection as he spoke to her. "Hey there, sweetheart. Did you miss your daddy?" Nicole cooed in response, her tiny fingers curling around one of Rooster's shirt buttons.

Beatrice couldn't resist reaching out to stroke Nicole's soft hair. "She's getting more and more attached to you every day," she remarked with a smile. "I think she knows just how amazing her dad is."

He lets out a weak laugh, then clears his throat, “Looks like it.” he whispers, watching as Nicole’s attention is locked on the several patches on his dad - and her grandfather’s - jacket. She straightened herself a bit as she sits on his arms, placing both hands on the most colorful ones she sees before she babbles a bit. “...wait, is it safe for her to touch the jacket?” he questions Maverick, “I’m not breaking the mood,but she’s a toddler and-”

Maverick chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched Nicole's fascination with the patches. "Don't worry, Rooster," he reassured him, "The jacket's been through worse."

Rooster narrowed his eyes, bringing Nicole close to his chest, “I’m serious though.”

“So am I. Relax, it’s fine.”

Nicole was still patting the patches, as if she wanted to grab them and play with them for a little while, furrowing her light brows when they remained intact. She let out a little grunt of annoyance, but no adult there stopped her, “You know,” Maverick nods, “...it fits better than it did before.”

Rooster couldn't help but smile at Maverick's comment about the jacket fitting better now. It was as if the jacket had found its rightful owner in Rooster, a tangible connection between father and son, even though they had been separated by time and circumstances.

"Maybe it was just waiting for the right moment," Rooster mused,shrugging a bit, “Maybe that’s what.”

Beatrice just watched the scene with a small smile, then cleared her throat after wiping her eyes, “Hm! Um,Mav, you hungry? I can prepare something quick! Oh!Better, you should stay for lunch!” she suggests,already marching to the fridge, “Maybe we can do that, to celebrate!”

“Bea,there’s not need to-” but Rooster just shakes his head, making his uncle stop and sigh softly, “Alright,I’ll stay for lunch,kiddo. Don’t worry.”

Beatrice's face lit up with enthusiasm at the idea of preparing lunch to celebrate the unexpected reunion. "Great! I’ll prepare something!," she said, pulling out ingredients from the fridge and pantry with the kind of determination that only appeared when she was in her element in the kitchen.

Rooster while still holding Nicole, nodded towards the outside, “Garden?”

“Yeah,garden.” Maverick smirks, “I feel you have questions.”

Rooster chuckled as he stepped outside with Maverick, Nicole still in his arms, her tiny fingers pointing at the trees and flowers in the garden.The clouds were still there, looming above, but there was no more rain.

"Alright, Mav," Rooster began as they found a comfortable spot to sit, "Why did you really give it to me? I love it,I do…but–”

“Isn’t your birthday soon?” Maverick smirks, “Later this month, remember?”

“...yea,I’ll be 39.” he frowns, “Was that why?”

Maverick chuckled. "Time flies, doesn't it? Seems like just yesterday you were that scrawny kid, snot on your nose…"

“...that was never me.”

“Wasn’t it?”

Rooster's narrowed his eyes, but his gaze softened as he looked down at Nicole, who was now reaching for a nearby flower with unbridled curiosity. "Yeah, well" he replied, “Got here, didn’t I?”

Maverick's expression turned more serious as he continued, "The thing is, kiddo, I wanted you to have the jacket now because…well, because I think it's time. Plus," he elbows Rooster’s arm, ‘Lieutenant-Commander.”

Rooster nodded, his gaze focused on the jacket that now lay in his lap. "Well, thanks Mav. I appreciate it more than I can express. But there's something else, isn't there?"

Maverick sighed, his eyes distant for a moment. "Yeah, there is," he admitted. "I've been doing some thinking, and…I guess I've come to realize that family is more important than I've let on in the past."

Maverick continued, "I've missed out on a lot over the years, and I don't want to keep making the same mistakes."

Rooster felt a lump in his throat as he listened to his uncle's words. Maverick reached over and patted Rooster on the back. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to be a better uncle, a better godfather. And I thought that giving you your dad's jacket was a good place to start."

Rooster smiled warmly at his uncle, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Mav, that means the world to me. You've…you’ve always been like a second father to me, and I'm glad we can strengthen our bond even more." he pauses, “And you’ve been doing a good job so far.”

Maverick returned the smile, a hint of moisture in his eyes that he quickly blinked away. "Ah,I still got a lot to learn.” he looks down at Nicole who was now standing between Rooster’s legs, ‘...I haven’t held a baby in so long and now there are…three in my life.” he whispers, “Crazy.”

"Yeah, life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?"

Maverick nodded, his gaze lingering on Nicole. "It sure does," he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and humility. "But you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way."

“No regrets?”

“Now,” Maverick chuckles, “I never said that.I have plenty…but,it’s gotten better to deal with…but anyway,I wanted to ask you something: excited to officially become a LC?” he leans closer, “I know it’s something you’d dreamed of.”

He might’ve mentioned it to Mav a few times over the years, “...Honestly,I’m nervous.”

Maverick nodded, propping his arms on his knees . "Nervous is natural," he admitted. "I'd be more concerned if you weren't. It means you care about it."

"Course I do care about it. It's something I've worked hard for, and it's a big responsibility. But at the same time, it's what I've always wanted." he sighs, “I should be less nervous about it then.”

Maverick smiled, a proud gleam in his eyes. "You're going to do great. And you've got a fantastic support system, too."

Rooster's gaze shifted to Beatrice, who had been busy in the kitchen to listen to their. "I couldn't do it without her,Mav" he admitted, his voice filled with love and appreciation. "She's been my rock ever since the beginning."

“Yeah, well, you needed to find the right one.” his uncle says, “And I’m glad it’s her.”

‘Me too.”

Maverick’s eyes moved from him to Nicole, “...and,well,we might have someone else enrolled in the future,isn’t that right Nikki?” his grandniece just looked over at him with a huge few toothed grin, then pointed at a butterfly that fluttered by with interest.

“Mav-”

“I know,I know,” he holds his hands up, “But she’ll be surrounded by that. By this,” he circles his finger on the air, “You know it could influence her, it influenced you.” he shrugs, “It’s a possibility.”

‘Yeah but I don’t want to think about it yet.” Rooster muttered, bringing Nicole close to him and hugging his little daughter tight, “I told you before, she’ll have her own path. If she wants to follow…” he pauses, opening and closing his mouth. His uncle arched his brow waiting for the response, “Then…I’ll…be okay with it.”

Maverick blinked, “Uh-huh.”

“Again, she’s too young.” he replies, kissing her soft cheek, “She’ll have time to think about that.”

Pete’s eyes lowered to Nicole’s hand, seeing how it clenched on one of Goose’s patches and how she refused to let go unless Rooster moved her hand away.

Damn. It was like a mirror to the past. That very scene replayed in his brain for a few seconds. “...yeah,” he smiles knowingly, “Of course.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

31 notes · View notes

skinslip · 9 months

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A Note on Content: This story is about someone struggling with their generational trauma and depression, as such things of this nature are interwoven into almost every aspect of this story. Reader be warned.

I do not want critique on my sentence structure, I am deliberate in how I write. You are experiencing the world in a way someone with my kind of brain trauma might experience it. I am open to any other points of discussion.

The Rigors And Heft

By Valeria Voldensdatter

She was born a mad woman, mad as Mae, mad as Arla, mad as Lærke. Mad as all of them, maybe more. She lost count the number of times she lost her mind, lost down the rabbit hole with Alice, down the well with Sadako. Not many people wake up in an irrigation ditch at 11 years old with their pants around their ankles without going mad from time to time.

Regaining her sanity (as if), in the ruins of her life, shredded by her own hands, bloody boney things, hateful things. No excuse powerful enough to undo the curses cast from her own maddend hands. They say we hurt the ones we love the most and she was efficient.

Years of this cycle and Chance has run herself aground, a bloated whale corpse heart ready to burst with rot. Laying on this beach of a bed wracked by nightmare after nightmare, screaming awake on an air mattress with a leak, she wakes up every few hours and reinflates it in the dark of her room while the anxiety of her nightmares drains away.

She wakes when she dreams, she sleeps when she wakes, she stays up the whole night. She takes the little green and blue capsules when she starts to hallucinate at the edges of her vision. Hydroxyzine Pamoate to dull her mind and lull her to sleep, she's stockpiled more than a lethal dose, though she has never even thought of doing that, probably very painful anyway.

She rolls out of bed and onto the filthy carpet, half deflated bed like arms of a desperate lover who can't get enough. Stark angry noonday sun lancing through the crack in her beige lifeless curtains to ensure she is awake. The same drapery supplied with the apartment 10 years ago, never bothered to replace them either, apathy was her favorite interior decorator.

Just 24 hours prior she was in Kansas on the threshold of her aunt Arla's single wide mobile home, maroon and white corrugated aluminum shoebox similar to the one Chance grew up in. Two big windows on the front like doe eyes, a barren planter box, and a carport filled with dozens and dozens of 30 quart rubber bins.

The smell of the dead woman is thick in the air, she's wearing two masks and still has the urge to vomit, it's a smell that doesn't leave her for days. Not even the first dead body Chance has smelled, though her aunt was taken away 2 days ago, he stinking days old rot still clung to the air.

How does one begin to even go through a mad woman's hoarded possessions? A life of clutter accumulated in every nook and cranny, barely a walkable path though the trailer.

The hallway lined with National Geographic magazines from floor to ceiling, they have congealed from an unfixed leak, the soggy paper shape of a stack of magazines. There's even a perfect handprint in the paper wall where an EMT mistakenly put their hand.

The floor in the back bedroom squelches under foot and sags in the middle, a putrid smelling mattress with decomposing bits of her aunt's body, a shit river stain and a floor covered in never been clean clothes and half filled bags of trash.

One end of the room is a closet that dominates the wall, inside it is full of boxes, some collapsing, and others with odious stains on the corners. The dresser built into the wall had no drawers, in fact Chance couldn't even find them anywhere on the premises.

The other wall is a gaping hole where the fire department cut out the death trap horizontal slot windows, the type long out of style and only found on older models without any renovations. The hole is lined by cancerous pink cotton candy that Chance's intrusive thoughts keep telling her would be a good idea to eat.

Chance finds nothing in the house worth saving but she does spend a few hours i going through the tubs in the carport. She dug out a copy of Mysterious New England from 1971, a ratty later edition of Prometheus Rising by Robert Anton Wilson, a cat skull, some small glass bottles with cork stoppers, things her mom would call "witchy shit" oh and Dino Crisis for the Playstation, her crazy aunt contained multitudes.

She would be kinder to her aunt's memory if she hadn't been so cruel, her mad woman aunt who talked to the dead and heard their voices. Chance's kindness long lost because of a knife at her throat, a gun to her head, and the constant stream of verbal abuse that made it hard to function.

Now jetlagged Chance is on her bedroom floor, her clothes covered floor, just like her aunt and her grandma and her mother too. Everyone's mad in her family, a long line of mad women as far as she can remember. Chance and her mother are the first generation to never be committed but that isn't a very high bar to clear in these supposedly more enlightened times (yeah right).

Chance retrieves the pack of clove cigarettes from the pocket of her jeans on the floor, flips it open, retrieves a single clove wrapped in black paper, and places it between her lips still caked with last night's lipstick, a cheap black from the drugstore, a small cheap comfort she allows herself.

She lights the clove cigarette and takes a short, quick pull from it. The aroma hits her nose and she is immediately taken back to that first kiss, to the girl who smelled of patchouli and cloves, and left a taste in her mouth for the rest of her life, the kiss never forgotten, a soul moving kiss nobody had ever duplicated, almost against her will, the girl who smells like heaven or the closest she had ever been.

She remembers this kiss each time she smokes, the only reason she really smokes them anymore. Chance still won't let anyone else call her "baby" or "lover", those words belonged to her, the girl who hated her guts, the girl she hadn't seen in 20 years. Chance doubts the girl would even recognize that boygirl she kissed in high school.

#cw mental illness #cw death #short story #fiction

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fairy-verse · 1 year

Text

The colour of red wine

All you’d wanted to do was to collect some herbs to use in your stew, but as you’d unknowingly passed the threshold of the land of the fairies, you’d soon found yourself lost, unable to find the path that led back to your village. Fear has crept up your spine as daylight began to dwindle and fade. The creatures of the night would soon awaken, and you’d be helpless to keep them at bay. However, as panic tried to control your mind, you soon found yourself caught in a strange haze. It was as if the very air around you grew heavy and thick, and you attempted to blink the confusion from your eyes, but as you did so, you soon came to notice a figure by the bushes, not too far away.

Startled, you took a step back, but paused once you took in their appearance. A skeleton monster, perhaps? It certainly looked like one, but every time you blinked, you thought you saw a shimmer of wings upon his back, though they always faded whenever your vision fully focused.

He smiled at you, and your skin tingled. His teeth were sharp and dangerous, his eyes trapping you in their gaze. Perhaps… perhaps he was a fairy? But… he was so tall, taller than you, and he had no wings, or… Did he?

“My poor dear,” he said, and his voice was thick, just like honey. It crept into your mind and muddled your thoughts. “You’re lost, aren’t you?” he asked, and you found yourself nodding, though you couldn’t recall making the conscious effort to do so. “Oh, but we can’t have that, can we?”

He stepped out from the bushes and approached you. A voice, in the back of your mind, told you to run, told you to escape and never look back again, but your heart, easily manipulated and ensnared, kept you standing still, for it had already fallen in love with the handsome fairy, and it cared little for the knowledge that they were dangerous, and could often lure the big folk to their doom; should they wish it.

His hands came to cradle your cheeks, and the fog in your mind grew heavier. He was so beautiful, so lovely and perfect, and he smiled at you with that mouth full of sharp, devious teeth. You wanted to kiss it.

His head tilted. “A kiss?” he asked, and a strangled sound left your parted lips. “Oh, but my dear, a kiss will make you vulnerable to me. Are you sure that you want that?” He leaned in closer to you. Your legs felt so weak, but your heart sang with joy. “Are you sure…” His thumb traced your bottom lip tenderly, “… that you want me to embrace you? Fully, truly, and so soon after meeting?”

“… Yes,” you said, and your voice sounded strange, distant, and unrecognisable. Why had you left the village again? Why were you here? Had you ever lived a life without him?

“Tell me your name, my dear, and I will give you all that you desire.” One of his hands trailed over your cheek and onto the back of your neck, and the other came down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Now, you could faintly see a pair of wings shimmer in your peripheral vision, barely noticeable behind him. “I will love you, cherish you, and never leave you wanting again. All that I ask…” His breath brushed your lips. Your mind drowned, and your heart continued to sing. “Is that you give me your name.” You couldn’t hear your voice, but you felt your lips move. His face, handsome and beautiful, terrified you as mirth filled that smile that threatened to devour you. Your mind shattered as his lips came to rest upon your own and was instead replaced with a new one; one that could live without pain, without sorrow and rage, one that could fully embrace the world of the fairies, and one that would forever adore the colour of red wine.

#Valentine's gift #gift for whiteartblood #wine sans #fsg sans #utmv #aufairyverse

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josiebelladonna · 2 months

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some things people who’ve lost a crap-ton of weight, and i don’t mean 20-30 pounds, we’re talking upwards of 50 pounds (in my case, it’s now fucking 80 pounds) don’t seem to talk about:

my god, do you learn about your body. i always thought i could naturally carry a lot of weight, like i felt good at 250, but i can apparently drop weight like it’s no one’s business and i don’t look “too big” for my frame.

and my god, do you learn about your mind. you think a lot more clearly, for starters. i used to get mood swings when i was approaching 270: i stopped having them almost immediately after i started losing. you also find a new particularly morbid love of body horror.

hooooooly shit, do you learn about your family. never mind the fact that my parents both have health issues now (my dad’s diabetes and past drug addiction, and my mom’s blood clots, weight issues, leg issues, and actually had a tumor in one of her breasts when i was like 2?), i have generational trauma that apparently has roots in the soviet union, ww2, the civil war era, the religious wars in ireland, and the liberal wars in portugal, and i feel it all in my bones. it’s going to sound weird but when you shed a lot of weight, you see that trauma come out to play in ways that you don’t want it to, like… family treating you differently. family not knowing how to treat you now. because of its vastness, you can’t help but look at yourself and feel as though you just broke a curse of some kind. you’ll never have kids because a.) you don’t want to pass that on more than it already has; and b.) you’re too selfish, in your 30s, practically broke, can’t land a date, eating disorder did *something* to you, and you’re watching the world fall apart around you so it’s out of the question anyway, but you broke through nearly three centuries worth of bullshit, champ.

fatphobia is real. and when you get fat to laugh in the face of anorexia, you start seeing fatphobia for what it is. and you get thin with that in mind. you know what it’s like to have this big belly on you and to have a double chin. you know all the caveats of being fat, too—in my case, you know the eroticism of being fat.

the “phantom limb” feeling. i started noticing this when i hit the 40 pound threshold: subconsciously, you still think you’re that heavy. i let my belly relax and notice that it’s not hanging out nearly as much. i just did 20 minutes on the rowing machine—when three months before, i could barely do 5 minutes. i’m not getting edema in my feet anymore, and in fact, my feet are slender now. i can feel my hipbones. i can feel my ribs. i can feel my collar bones… holy shit, my jeans are falling off.

you’re cold. i’ve found myself wearing a hat more on cold days. a hat with gloves and my sweater because i’m freezing most of the time. it’s a jarring difference from being fat where i was often too warm.

you don’t use the bathroom as much. i remember taking a shit multiple times during the day at my heaviest. i would have these weird pains in my stomach like i had to fart (and i did, often) but they would just happen. i do piss a lot, though—most of that is from the fact that i drink a ton of water but apparently a big way you break down body fat finds its way into your kidneys and your bladder. i don’t bleed as heavily anymore on my periods (could be because i’m getting older, too).

there’s this overhanging feeling that you can very easily go into “lost too much” territory. in fact, this is my biggest concern (carrie fisher suffered a heart attack after she had lost a bunch of weight, after all). and in fact, there’s evidence to back me up on this, in that it’s better to be a little chubby/on the side of “overweight” than the “normal” section, notwithstanding the fact that bmi is a bunch of eugenicist bullshit. now you know why i actually don’t want to lose my belly all the way because it could probably be the only thing separating me from something awful.

loose skin. i actually don’t have much (if you can believe it, 80 pounds down) but i got it on my belly for the most part. my stretch marks are still there, these pale ghosts around the bottom of my waist. this weird indentation on my hip where i had a pretty stout love handle going. my skin there is unreal levels of soft now.

and lastly, everything tastes better?? obesity will, among other things, nuke your tastebuds so when you start dropping a lot of weight, you start craving healthier food and also more flavorful food. for example: never in my wildest dreams did i think i would love things like onions especially shallots and green onions, bell peppers, mushrooms, and a dash of chili flakes, but here we freaking are. god almighty, i love anything and everything aromatic. i season everything. i got two words for all of you and that’s “flavor bomb”. and i enjoy all the baked goods, as i think everyone on a weight loss journey should.

#weight loss journey #weight loss #sorry for getting a little tmi there: i just decided i’m not gonna hold anything back anymore #personal #text

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whiteartblood · 1 year

Note

Hellooo, this might have been a bit rushed, but I wanted to write you a little Valentine’s gift, since you always treat us with such lovely artwork of Wine. I hope you’ll enjoy it <3

♡ﾟ+｡.｡+ﾟ’ﾟ+｡.｡+ﾟ♡

“… Yes,” you said, and your voice sounded strange, distant, and unrecognisable. Why had you left the village again? Why were you here? Had you ever lived a life without him?

You couldn’t hear your voice, but you felt your lips move. His face, handsome and beautiful, terrified you as mirth filled that smile that threatened to devour you. Your mind shattered as his lips came to rest upon your own and was instead replaced with a new one; one that could live without pain, without sorrow and rage, one that could fully embrace the world of the fairies, and one that would forever adore the colour of red wine.

Hhhh, I read this at work and had to stop myself before I started becoming a giggling fit. So I read it when I got home and I was a giggling

Thank you so much! I appreciate it and the Wine love

#save #for me #fanfic #love love love!

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scarlet-ancunin · 2 years

Note

I'm back I just got this thought of werewolf reader going feral and the idea for a request came to me so here goes

desire going to see werewolf reader but finds their house trashed and a window broken, desire goes out to find them and finds reader in full werewolf form but there's no sense of recognition in reader's eyes it's just full feral animal, reader tries to attack desire but they end up knocked out. Desire decided to bring them back to their realm until the full moon is over. Can be agnsty but if you want to add a fluffy ending that be fine too

Also are you planning on closing requests on sunday still? I still have one more request I'd like to send in if that's ok I know I've been sending in a lot I don't want to be a bother

hmm, my werewolf fics getting to you all I see *smirks* sure I'll do another one for you~

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Taming My Werewolf Lover

This was not good. Desire thought as they entered your apartment which was ruined and looked as if a personal war was happening in there. they looked around seeing no signs of life and you were not there either. "Y/n where are you.." Desire heard screams and went towards the window looking up to see a full moon. "hm well this is a intersting this must be that time of you killing must be a lovely sight" Desire was correct watching you kill dirty men from alleys or people that was being to loud Desire cared nothing for mortals much but becasue they was an endless they still have to help keep the natural order they suppose. However they only stepped in when You was about to kill a mother and son and they couldn't have that so they did a loud whistle that caught your attention and you turned around growling. Desire watched as you howl loudly into the air and suddenly ran towards them jumping and catching them. In hindsight, Desire should have thought this through. they could feel their claws sinking deep in their arms and they hissed before holding you close and moved you both to their Threshold. It was a long night for Desire because the moment they made it their they was slammed into a wall and they grunted. they could feel your teeth seek into their shoulder but they kept a tight leash on you. literally having a collar appear on your neck and pinning you to the wall before moving away. Desire knew their body would heal but it still sucked to get hurt and they was pouting leaning against the other wall watching you try to break free but Desire wouldnt allow it you was in their territory now. they whistle once more and when you turned to look at them you felt the sudden feeling to sleep and you end up laying down and closing your eyes tiredly. "ugh have to make a cage for you now you a big grumpy fluff ball" Desire complained before stripping their clothes and walking towards the bathroom to shower. after a long while they came back out and walked over to your sleeping form and taking the collar off before putting your werewolf head on top of their lap. their hair was wet and unkept it was a rare sight to see. Desire was asleep at this point and you was back to normal you look up at see their hair unkept and slightly curled. and you blush lightly. but you also noticed Desire's arms was and shoulder had a still healing wound and you felt your heart sink. you sat up and you wake them up slowly. "l-love im so sorry" you said once they opened their eyes and looked at you they smiled and held your hand. "im okay i heal very quickly and the pain is only for a moment im okay and im glad your calm now" you look down your ears flatten on your head and you felt them pet you "shh baby im not mad in fact im glad your not hurt okay" you lean to their touch and kissed them softly when they came closer to you. "you look rather sexy killing low life mortals though i must say i had certain unhinged thoughts but maybe ill tell you another time~" they giggle when you blush lightly and nod slowly tail wagging. "come on love lets go eat something after you put on some clothes....as the matter of fact stay like that we can eat in" they grin suddenly their eyes filled with lust.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Taglist: @justaproudslytherpuff , @sherazyjade , @the-masked-scorpio , @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 , @happilydangerousworld , @harlekin6

#unhinged desire simp #desire #desire headcanons #desire of the endless #the sandman desire headcanons #the sandman desire of the endless #the sandman desire #the sandman desire of the endless x reader #the sandman desire x reader #desire of the endless x reader #desire x reader #desire x you #desire x y/n #the sandman

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everye · 2 years

Text

tell me please, why on earth this game supposed to be so impressive ?? ..

yeah im sitting here guessing wut am i doing to my life so i feel like share w my sorta theory

in nowhere section, alessa's hospital room after one cutscene you can hear a strange sound resonating in your ears

kinda scratching inside braincase

as it turned out, this eerie soundrack (BLESS AKIRA AND HIS MUSIC—) accompanied us for the rest of location

it's almost funne how such small detail could trigger neuron activation and lead me to conclusions LIKE THIS lol

the first link of the chain was immediate thought that harry might have a mild headache or dizziness near this place

idk how to explain this properly maybe it's just a vibe ..

but air w h i s t l e s around that hospital bed with blood-stained sheets even though it's empty

as if it keeps remains of some energy trace so far

what kind of ? good question

if you recall dahlia's monologue, it's the place where God had been nurtured for long 7 years, endless pain threshold test and immense suffering for one little girl

A Very Heart of the Nightmare

don't feel like taking it like a bunch of empty, meaningless words so let me be clear – presence of God in alessa's womb could have real, physical effects on environment or even more, living creatures. i imagine it like some kind of radiation emerging out of her body, that badly affects a human condition and reduces lifetime in general

yeah just trying to find the reason why dahlia had turned into an old hag to the moment of the first game in precisely short time and kauffman looks kind of pasty and pale w his yellowish skin like he has a serious problem w liver. other member of the order who were attending the ritual could at least develop chronic diseases

i'd like to remind here the order was a sect of private religion and had really dangerous people in it. their influence grew into various areas of town's life, we already know abt kauffman being the director of alchemilla hospital

lisa mentioned the series of strange assassinations of officials who were intending to bring some economical changes into structuring of silent hill's life, also later we discover abt murders of the drug traffic case investigators – and it can be said they're responsible for all of that

the order operated discreetly to keep existing power structure as it was

one day, lisa garland – the member of alchemilla hospital's staff was appointed to take care of new special patient

should i describe amount of shock she probably experienced? it was tremendously cruel that someone who had suffered burns covering their entire body that far beyond the fatal level – and still struggles to breathe. but since the girl was impregnated she couldn't die, the malevolent deity simply wouldn't let her. so nurse's new duties included making sure that holy mother's body – one big solid open wound – wasn't eaten by larvae

lisa was terrified so much in the face of that new circumstances, even expressed her plea to be out of that business which is totally understandable

even though she begged superior suspend her from that case, lisa was just an innocent resident and good soul. she couldn't offer them more but a honest promise

no girlie, work it

lisa had to handle it on her own without anyone's help, because the less people know about what really happened that day is better. and just one drug-addicted nurse from uninitiated is pretty convenient number to control the situation. moreover judging from the newspaper article, it was believed alessa died in the fire caused by blaze of antiquated boiler in gillespie house's basement

ok can't say why in the game initially exclusively medical staff were among possessed human enemies known us puppet nurses and puppet doctors. but we know during its events cybil becomes the same species as them and red liquid aglaophotis makes it possible for harry to rid her of the parasite's influence and save her life

now i'd like to remark that aglaophotis and ptv are both produced by white claudia – a plant indigenous to the region where silent hill is located

in other hand, this recreational drug is meant to help member of the order to communicate with the spirit guides and spiritual realm

lisa in her diary states she suffered from severe hallucinations that suspiciously clear remind of some otherworld features: insects, blood and pus coming from bathroom faucet. even though the otherworld itself firstly appeared only at the period of game? amount of ptv her organism received only grew over time, maybe it gave her some immune against spiritual realm's invasion and helped visualize true picture of suffering beyond human comprehension in this room

im inclined to think lisa eventually wasn't allowed to leave her work space at hospital's basement at all. guess, it wasn't too difficult for order to manipulate another fact in the face of public to cover lisa's sudden disappear

the thing is, she spent really dangerous amount of time in close proximity with alessa. she felt bad at the first time with constant need to throw up, but i believe her state became only worse because of God's poisonous influence. it caused breakdown of internal organs and gradually, lisa's hair and nails fell off, her skin sloughed off and finally melting flesh dripped off her face and body

and for some reason i was sure the case of lisa's death was drug overdose: by accident or on purpose. but things got more complicated when m. ito confirmed she was actually killed by valtiel. idk what to think abt it maybe an act of mercy ??

so lisa's bloody scene probably was an allusion to her body decaying and falling apart, that is to say, very light version of what could happen to her through the years of nursing her secret patient

and as long as alessa was bedridden for life she was forced to watch how the only sincerely good person in her life turns into a literal piece of meat in due of her mere p r e s e n c e

just by being there, with alessa's body

the order went too far playing with fire, no wonder why alessa acts like this. the only option left for her to prevent the birth of God is destroying the whole town and probably killing every single person in there

because she firmly believed there's a fate worse than death

#silent hill #text #alessa gillespie #lisa garland #harry mason #as long as they were mentioned too #dahlia gillespie #michael kaufmann #you know i tend to leave half of my thoughts in the tags while commenting someone's art but this case is way too difficult #deserves a post

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valeriasfragments · 8 months

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The Rigors And the Heft - Part 1

How does one begin to even go through a mad woman's hoarded possessions? A life of clutter accumulated in every nook and cranny, barely a walkable path though the trailer.

#Chance #Elise #Fragments #lesbian #queer #More soon

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