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her-satanic-wiles · 7 months

Text

October 12th

Medical Play, Papa Emeritus III x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Medical play; GN!Reader; dom!Reader?; cringey Terzo; subby!Terzo; established relationship; latex kink?; glove kink; hand job; mild praise; anal fingering; taunting; mild degradation; mild humiliation; power kink; mild edging; cum eating; cumswap; reads like an 80s porno; awful medical terminology, I'm sorry to all the doctors and nurses reading this lmao;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The graveyard shift was always the worst - or rather, the slowest. As most of the Siblings were asleep in the dead of the night, you had free roam of the medical centre of the Ministry. Not that there was ever much to see given that it was hardly decorated and filled to the brim with medicine and multiple medical journals, all of which you’d perused on your off or slow hours.

Thankfully, your job was always made easier by the fact that no one in the Ministry was stupid enough to get themselves into a lot of trouble. Even during the day, the worst injury you’d seen was someone’s ritual or blood play wounds get infected, but thankfully it was easy enough to sort out. It was the most difficult thing, becoming a doctor and going through university - even getting a job within the Ministry itself was a difficult task. The job itself though - paid to read books mostly.

Though, it was different that night. Your socked feet were up on your desk and a book was in your lap. You were, of course, reading what your friends liked to call your “dirty girl books”, when there was a gentle knock at the door. “Come in!” You called. Immediately you brought your feet off the desk and put your bookmark in the book, hiding it from the view of your guest. You still didn’t want to appear unprofessional, even though there was no one around… well, almost no one.

The door opened to reveal a smaller man, black hair and wrinkles. You recognised him instantly. “Good morning, Papa.” You said, standing to your feet out of respect.

“Ah, hello, doctor. I hope I am not disturbing you while you are busy?” Terzo stood there in the doorway uncharacteristically awkward in his demeanour and make up chipping from his face. He looked tired.

You looked at the clock: four o’clock. It was so early. “I always have time for you, Papa. How can I help you?”

“Ah, it is a little embarrassing, doctor.”

“Whatever it is I’m here to help, judgment-free.”

This was the moment you’d been waiting for. The thing is - you weren’t Terzo’s personal physician. Given the nature of their job and the importance of their status, each of the Papas had their own personal physicians at their beck and call all times of the day and night. You weren’t part of that club, rather, dealing with the rest of the Ministry including the Ghouls and the Clergy. You may not have been Terzo’s physician, but you were his partner… so to speak. This whole arrangement had been set up and pre-decided weeks ago, and when he had time, he’d drop in to see you with some “medical emergency” and you would be the doctor to “treat him”. You would pretend not to know each other which was the most crucial part of the whole scene. So now you were just waiting for Terzo to say his next line, not that you knew what his next line was.

“Well you see, I am an old man. And my, how do you say? My dick is broken.”

This fucking guy.

“Okay, in what way?”

“It doesn’t stand for very long. It grows tired very quickly, like me. Or my fratello.”

Please don’t compare your penis to your brothers.

“R-right.” You blinked at him a few times, not quite expecting him to be so forthcoming with his “issue” - or even quite so chaotic. “Please come and take a seat on the bench for me.” He did as you instructed. “Would you mind unbuttoning your shirt, Papa?”

“Ah, doctor, that is the other thing. My fingers are tired today, too. I am afraid they can’t unbutton anything.”

Of course they can’t.

He looked at you and gave you the biggest shit-eating grin, clearly eating up his role. Despite knowing Terzo as intimately as you did for a number of years, he still managed to find ways to fluster you.

You moved forward, trying your best not to smile and keep it “professional”, but the excitement within him was simply radiating off of him and infecting you. He was, for lack of a better term, buzzing with it. Your fingers carefully began to unbutton his white shirt and avoiding his gaze, but you could feel it on you. His mischievous eyes studying you and your expression so intently you were sure it would leave a mark.

Once his incredibly hairy chest was completely exposed to you, you took the stethoscope from around your neck and set yourself up to use it. “This may be a little cold.” You warned before placing the bell over his heart. Of course, this wasn’t a real check up, so it didn’t matter what you heard. In fact, you were only doing this for his benefit because you knew he’d want it.

“Can you hear that, doctor?” He asked.

“There’s nothing unusual.”

“But my heart, you should hear that it beats only for you.”

This. Fucking. Guy.

It took everything in you not to blush or react to his words in any way. “Okay, I think we should do a few tests just to make sure everything’s okay. Would you mind removing your pants, Papa?”

You took a step back and allowed Terzo to stand from the bench and do as you’d asked. You looked away to feign privacy, despite the fact that you’d been up close and personal with that part of his body for a long while. But out the corner of your eye, you noticed that the little shit had decided to forgo underwear. How you were surprised was a mystery unto itself.

“You know, doctor, usually I buy ladies dinner before I let them undress me in their offices.” He teased.

“Usually ladies don’t examine you for erectile dysfunction.” You taunted back. “Are you ready, Papa?”

“Of course, doctor. I await your professional opinion.” He plonked himself back up on the bed and leant back confidently, completely exposing himself to you. He was enjoying this game a little too much for your liking. You began prepping your hands, first sanitizing them then putting latex gloves on to keep up appearances. When you moved back over to him, you noticed that his mismatched eyes were heavily trained on you, only moving when you did and fixating on your gloved hands. Time to bullshit your way through this. “To make sure you can maintain a healthy erection, we need to give you one first. Is this normally something you have a problem with?”

“Not at all. Usually my partner is able to get me up just by looking at me.”

You nodded. “So you won’t need any help from me today, then?”

“On the contrary, doctor. My partner is not here, and so I am having trouble. Please take care of me.”

He gave you the best doe eyes he could muster knowing that it would work on you because it usually did. And so, you nodded, and poured some of the office’s lubricant onto your hand. “This will be cold.” You warned him.

As soon as your lubed hand made contact he hissed and jumped, perhaps making more of a show of it than he ought to. Your hand began to work away at his flaccid length, which was filling up with blood a lot quicker than you anticipated. With each tight stroke of your hand, Terzo’s hips bucked slightly. He wasn’t quite ready or sensitive enough for it to feel mind-numbingly good, but the little breaths and whimpers he was releasing was proof enough that it was working. One of his own gloved hands came up to your arm and gripped onto it, trying to keep himself grounded. The other hand grasped onto the bench with as much force as he could.

You tightened your grip and began focusing entirely on the head of his cock, making sure he was feeling as much pleasure as possible. The feeling of the lubed latex on his head had his mind reeling. His eyes were tightly shut, his bottom lip had been taken into his mouth and trapped between his teeth. He was trying so hard to keep up the pretense but he was obviously feeling good. You decided to be a bitch. “Tell me, Papa, what do you usually do to keep the erection?”

“What?” He asked, opening his eyes and coming to his senses.

“Well, this is a new problem, isn’t it? What usually works? What usually feels good?”

Terzo, whom you had never seen so flustered before, gulped and took in a sharp inhale before continuing. “M-my partner usually uses their mouth.”

“Where?”

“What?”

“Where does their mouth go?”

“M-my cock and sometimes my a-asshole.”

You moved your other hand to his taint and then to the rim of his hole. “Here?”

“Yes! Merda! There!”

Then, all of a sudden, you removed all of your hands and took a step back. “You seem to be healthy, Papa. I think maybe you’re just stressed.”

His eyes were wide and he couldn’t quite believe you’d done that. “What?”

“Lack of sleep can also be a cause of dysfunction. Do you get enough sleep?”

“Yes. Doctor, I- I am confused.”

“What with?”

“Well, I… you… stopped.”

“Of course, Papa. You needed help maintaining an erection, we’ve since discovered that you don’t struggle with that regularly, and you’re certainly not now.”

“You can’t just leave me like this.” He gestured to his now angrily erect cock before muttering something in Italian, clearly irritated by you.

“Maybe if you were to ask nicely, I might help you out.”

Terzo hesitated for a second, clearly wanting to say something but not wanting to either be so desperate that he begs for it, but also being to embarrassed to say anything. He was perhaps the filthiest person you knew, never shy or bashful, but apparently when his partner had the upper hand he was a total mess.

“Per favore.”

“Not good enough. Try again.”

“Will you… help me out?”

“Sure, what with?”

“Porca puttana! Make me cum… please, Doctor.”

He almost forgot himself.

You stood and sauntered back over to him applying more lube to your gloved hand as you passed that shelf. “Good boy.” You told him with a teasing smile, wrapping his cock back up in your hand and continuing exactly where you left off. “Nothing wrong with you now, is there? You’re keeping it up well enough, aren’t you?”

The same hand that was gripping onto the bed had moved up onto your shoulder, a gorilla grip on it. His eyes were open but focused on the wall, glazed over a little in the sheer pleasure your hand was providing. Your other hand went straight back to the rim and began rubbing over it again. His noises got louder when you did, hips having a mind of their own. The position wasn’t great so you got him to sit back, keeping him width-ways on the bench with his cheeks on the edge and his feet propped up and legs spread. You cursed your boss for giving you the wrong chair to use for today, what you would have killed to use the gynecology chair with the stirrups. It would have humiliated him so much to be so exposed. He would have loved it. Though he looked like such a whore in this position, you thought perhaps this was more humiliating.

With more lube on your hands, one went back to his head, and the other started pushing inside his hole. His mouth dropped open in a perfect ‘O’ and his brow furrowed, the pleasure almost overwhelming him. “We do have to make sure all parts of you are working correctly, hm? Especially this nice little button in here.”

“Cazzo!”

Only your pinkie was inside him at the moment. You didn’t want to hurt him and as he hadn’t pre-stretched himself out, you thought it was best to take your time. You wiggled it around a little, trying to make his hole fit two of your better, and kept at it until he was lose enough. Eventually, your index and middle fingers were able to fit inside him, and so you went in search of that button you mentioned. “Touch your cock for me.” You instructed. Like the obedient whore he was today, he did as you asked, wrapping his own hand around the head and moving quickly. “Ah-ah.” You scolded. “Slow down.”

“But-”

“Slow!”

His hand gradually put the breaks on, dropping to an almost torturous level. You could see how much it pained him. Given the fluttering of his hole around your two fingers, you could tell he was already too close. He was too overwhelmed. He needed that sweet release that you were refusing to give him. Why? Why wouldn’t you just make him cum? Why would you drag it out as much as you did? He couldn’t fathom it. But he was so desperate to finish he couldn’t ask you to stop.

This was a completely different man in front of you. The head of the Satanic Church was riding your fingers in your office as if he didn’t hold all of the power. Because right now he didn’t. You did. In his desperate need to cum, he was obeying your orders down to the letter. He was whining and writhing for you and only you. No one else got to see him like this: his entire body on fire and chasing a release he’d practically been begging for since he entered the medical ward, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth where it had opened so wide, and loud moans were spilling out with it. His pants completely removed and his white shirt unbuttoned completely. He was positively sinful right now - a proper Babylonian whore giving himself to another for his own pleasure. And oh how he sang for you when you reached that spot. How he stopped breathing when you finally hit it. How expletives poured from his lips to cope with the devastating bliss your fingers were giving him. Choruses of “yes!” and “right there!” and “don’t stop!” providing him comfort while you had your way with him. His own hand matched yours and as you got faster, so did he. He was so close. He could almost taste the sweet release that was on its way to him.

It was when your hands came up to play with his balls he finally tipped over the edge. Cum spurted from his cock and pooled over his hairy stomach, and even reaching up his chest in the intensity of the orgasm he was experiencing. His toes curled and his body seized up. You were, the whole time, talking him through it. “That’s it,” you told him, “give it all to me, Papa. Give me everything. Such a good boy.”

When you were sure he was fine, you gently removed yourself from inside him and bent forward, your tongue running through his spend and lapping it up into your mouth, keeping it there. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were ablaze with something. More lust? Frustration that you were doing something so sexy and he was too tired to do anything about it? You weren’t entirely sure. But the moan he released when you kissed him, swapping his cum from your mouth to his was enough to tell you all was forgiven… at least for now.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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lip-rings-and-quiffs · 1 year

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Hey there!! I see you write fics and I don’t know if you take requests?? If not don’t worry!! But if u do, could you write a luke x reader where the reader struggles with anxiety and ocd? Like checking things a lot (checking doors are locked, oven is off etc) and struggling with intrusive thoughts. But like it doesn’t need to be dark or anything, more like Luke helps to reassure her and it’s more like cute n sweet. If not comfortable writing about this tho I totally understand!! Thank u and love ur writing x

A/N : Ok first of all thank you so much!!! I’ve been feeling like I suck at writing for a while and all so this helped so much!! Ily<33 and I do take requests (for future reference lmao). Anyways I hope you liked this!!

Warnings : ocd, anxiety attacks and such. Well it’s not really graphic but it’s there. Also it’s smol🥺. Had no idea what to name this lol +masterlist | reblogs are highly appreciated<33

Better with You | lh

Ever since you were born, you had always been prone to worrying. As a child, you had been anxious about getting lost or separated from your parents. As you grew older, your fears shifted to other things: locking doors, turning off the stove, making the bed at least seven times a day, making sure you hadn't accidentally offended anyone, apologizing over and over again when you really didn’t have to.

It wasn't until you were in your late teens that you finally found a name for what you were experiencing: obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD. It was a huge relief to know that there was a reason behind your constant need to check things and your intrusive thoughts. And that there wasn’t something “wrong” with you. But even with the medication and therapy, you still struggled.

And that’s where Luke comes in. After you met at a coffee shop one day, he has been the absolute sweetheart, leading him to become your boyfriend and one of the most important people in your life. He had been with you through it all. He had held your hand during panic attacks, listened patiently as you talked about your fears, and never once judged you for your struggles. He was your rock, the best friend, the boyfriend that you could always count on.

One day, you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through various social media platforms, when you suddenly felt a jolt of panic travel through your spine. Had you turned off the oven before you came back to the living room? You couldn't remember. You gulped, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to push the horrific thought away, but it kept nagging at you, growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment.

"Hey," Luke said, his cerulean eyes filled with worry as he took in your distress. "Is everything okay?" You shook your head, unable to speak.

"What's going on?" he asked, taking your hand in his much larger one.

"I don't remember if I turned off the oven," you hiccuped, tears threatening to slip past your waterline. "What if the house burns down?"

Luke squeezed your hand. "It’s okay, why don’t we go check together? Hmm?”

You stood up, feeling slightly unsteady. Luke immediately wrapped his arms around you, securing you in his hold and led you to the kitchen and together, you opened the oven door. It was off.

"See?" Luke said, smiling down at you. "Everything's okay. The house isn't going to burn down."

You let out a shaky breath. "Thank you."

"Of course babe" he said, wrapping his arms around you once more and kissing the top of your head. "I'll always be here to help you through anything."

You leaned into him, cuddling into his loving embrace. After focusing on his heartbeat for a while, it was easy for you to finally calm down. With Luke by your side, you knew that everything would be alright.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you’re having a great day. I love feedback, it helps so much.

+masterlist | reblogs are highly appreciated!<333

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yandere-fics · 2 months

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I'm back with more pirate yandere ideas because I'm a menace.

• There are 3 main crews, each made up of the city, kingdom and seaside ocs, except for Veronia.

• Veronia is an aquatic dragon, lurking deep beneath the waves in a cavern of sunken ships. Her darling however ignores the legend of the sea dragon, dismissing it as pirate superstition, only for Veronia to drag them beneath the waves, gifting them the ability to breathe underwater just before they drown (potential light body horror of Veronia slowly turning her darling into a mermaid.)

• the city crew's ship is called "The Darling"

• The city crew are seen as legendary figures, as no one has crossed them and lived, except for maybe Runa, but she's a weird wet cat so they kept her.

• Eliza drinks salt water on the daily, forgetting that it tastes horrendous.

• Theanna is seen as rebellious, as she left her kingdom to sail the seas, she's still the ruler, but expands her territory throughout the oceans.

• Runa rarely goes above deck during the day, sticking to night shifts. However she gets real bad sunburn if she has to go out in the day.

• While most of the yandere's bring their darling's aboard the ship, Abigail refuses to have her lady put in any danger, but she makes sure to visit her as often as possible (hot steamy pirate sex)

• Sawyer pretties up her quaters just for her darling, treasures all around and a nice big bed for her to sleep on.

• Kassien finds her darling when they board a ship to take over, most of the crew surrender but darling puts up a fight, leading to Kass breaking a bone or two in the fight.

"Tsk. Poor thing. Now come on, we just took all the medical supplies so unless you keen to bleed out on this dirty old ship, you're coming with me."

• Idk who to pair these with, but here are just some darling ideas for the pirates.

• a darling who stows away on the ship just for the adventure, but ends up being someone's darling. Now they can never leave.

• A rich darling taken as a hostage.

• Rival pirate darling

• Darling who hates the ocean and is terrified the whole time, her yandere uses this to make sure she's always by her side and relying on her.

• A darling who ends up being the soulmate of 2 (or more) different yandere's, but since they're a crew, they can't kill eachother for her love. So they have to share... reluctantly.

That's all for now - Girlfailure

god it couldn't be me cause i would get so motion sick, I'd have to be Abigail's darling cause I am staying on land, the second you try to drag me onto a boat i stop loving you lmao.

#girlfailure anon

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neuromedical · 4 months

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Started a new rotation at neurosurgery in a different hospital and let me tell you - I hate every single minute spent there. I want to go back to my real job 😭

I miss having my own locker and not having to drag everything with me to the preop room and actually having the ICU on the same damn floor as the ORs. I miss our stupid old Dräger machines. I miss actually having something to do during the case oh my god. I miss the ward. I miss my coworkers 😭

I feel like a medical student again and since that really wasn't the happiest time of my life, I hate that the most. People call me "doctor", but on the first day I accidentally opened two packets with the disposable OR clothing because I took the wrong size (why the hell do you even have them in packets?! What if I need two different sizes?! God!) and got a 10 minute lecture from a cleaning lady about wasting resources. (The next day I got the good size but the trousers broke immediately so I had to open another one anyway lmao I'm not even sorry, if you get shit materials you get shit outcomes - how come the male doctors have the same comfy green stuff we use at my home hospital but women's locker rooms only have these shitty ones.)

I'm there for a month. Thankfully I have four shifts "at home" which means minus some days (one of them is on Saturday which hurts me...). The thing is I hate change. I can't deal with it as easily as some people. And a month is not even enough to get used to something like this... God, I'm really fucking spoiled. I started out well. I started out somewhere others work towards. I'm very thankful, hah.

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wildbornsiren · 2 years

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Rise and Shine (part two) | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader.

Rise and Shine part 2 of 4

Synopsis: You took Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw home, helped him celebrate his birthday-- and now he’s making good on a promise.

I said that this was a one shot, but it’s got a life of it’s own. Part two of three. 2,777 words, AFAB/female reader. Reader is an enlisted medic.

||Part One ||

Warnings: EXPLICIT 18+ MINORS DNI. dirty talk, oral (f receiving) fingering, anal fingering, internal ejaculation, ejaculation kink, unprotected vaginal sex.

Notes: This is a continuation of some absolute filth. It’s dirtier, raunchier and only gets worse from here. I’m so sorry lmao. :) I would formally like to blame @evansrogerskitten simply because I can. Thank you so much to @therebeccaw for the header. Comments and reblogs are so welcome. Thank you so much for reading, it means the most.

The stack of personnel files on your desk seemed to grow every time you turned around. The clock ticked closer and closer to quitting time, and you had just two files left. You roll your shoulders, get up from your desk and go out to the waiting room, calling your second to last patient for the day. It was a simple post flight exam, making notes of vitals and any health-related issues that could have occurred during the training exercise. You sign off on the form, inputting a prescription refill on your computer system.

There’s a knock on the door and you look up to see one of the physician assistants with a file in her hand. “Here, your last scheduled patient had to cancel, but Thompson asked if you could take his last one. He wants to surprise his kid at a baseball game.”

“He could have just passed me the file.” You switch files with the PA. “I would have taken it without the sob story.” You grin, “Tell him to have a good time.”

“Should be a quickie, it’s another post flight.” She calls as she leaves the exam room.

You flip open the file to see a familiar face looking up at you. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw’s file, his service picture pinned to the corner of his med sheet. “Son of a bitch.” You mutter. Your legs are sore, and there’s a slow dull ache in your lower abdomen. You feel heat rise on your face when you remember his promise from earlier in the day.

“Lt. Bradshaw?” You ask when you get to the waiting room. He gets to his feet, in his flight suit. You prefer the look of his standard khaki uniform, but today, that flight suit was inspiring to say the least. You shift your weight feeling your core throb when he smiles. He brushes past you, entering the exam room, and it takes you a moment to remember to breathe. This was work. No matter how good those broad shoulders look in that uniform. You close the door, looking up from his file.

He unzips his flight suit, shrugging out of the sleeves, letting the upper half fall to his waist. A black t-shirt hugs his upper body, leaving your throat dry and your pussy wet. “Doc.” His voice is honeyed velvet, and it brushes along your spine.

You focus on the details of your work, taking his vitals, recording the basic flight plan. Part of you is disappointed that he maintains his role of patient, but on the other hand it made you happy that he respected your career and sanctity of your office. “Your blood pressure is a little elevated Lieutenant, but it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“I do have a question for you,” He’s seated on the exam table as you make your notes in his chart. “Could you take a look at this and tell me what’s going on?”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant,” You look up and he’s holding the panties you were wearing earlier this morning. The very ones he had ripped off you before pounding you into the mattress. You clear your throat and drop your gaze back to his chart. “Those look a little small for you. I also suggest finding something that has a higher cotton percentage. Lace tends to chafe when it gets too warm.”

His licks his lips. “I’ve heard when it gets damp it chafes as well.”

You nod, setting his file aside, and taking a moment to lock the door. “I should probably take some time and really get to the root of your problem. This new ailment is concerning.”

Rooster reaches for you, his fingers hooking through one of the belt loops on your uniform pants. He tugs you closer, between his legs. Your hands rest on his torso, before allowing yourself to indulge. One hand slides down, dipping under the flight suit. He’s already hard, straining against his boxers. “You look good in uniform.” He murmurs, hands gripping the edge of the exam table.

“I like your flight suit. A lot. One zipper, easy access.” You laugh and it’s a little nervous. You can feel his cock twitch under your hand. He’s magnetic and hot and his breath hitches just for you. “Didn’t you say something about getting my pussy sloppy and wet?”

“Doc, if I slid my hand into your panties I’d come back soaked.” He leans in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. “I can smell how wet you are already. Now, tell me if you’re going to be a good girl and let me get my mouth on you so I get a taste of something I’ve been thinking about all day.

The utterance of the words good girl almost makes you want to drop your pants and spread yourself out for him right then and there. His body presses against you as he gets down from the table. He lifts you easily, those large hands splitting your knees, and pressing between your thighs.

“Say red if I go too far. I’ll stop. But otherwise, I’m going to take until you’re cock dumb, pussy dripping slick down your thighs, and my cock in your ass.” He nips at the curve of your neck, before sucking at the light hickey he had left earlier in the morning. “Then I’m going to get you home and lick you clean.” He lifts his head, and that grin is on his face. “I won’t even make you clean up the wet spot you leave on the seat when I get you in my car.”

You nod mute, mind racing with his words.

He nips at your jaw. “Out loud, let me hear you, Doc.”

“You want to wreck me Bradshaw? Do it.”

He shivers, “That’s my Doc.” He lifts your shirt, yanking it from your body, tossing it aside. His mouth burns down your neck, settling on the swell of your breast, one hand groping roughly at one breast while the other skims, palm flat against your stomach. He presses that free hand between your legs, rubbing you through your pants. “Your pants are damp.” He groans. “Fuck baby how did you get anything done?”

You reach around, undoing your bra, and his eyes light up, half smirk on his face. His mouth closes around your breast, sucking hard enough to take your breath away. His hair tangles easily under your hand, giving in and pulling sharply on those ruffled curls. He releases your breast with a wet sound, and you can almost see the switch happen behind his eyes. Your shoulders hit the exam table, his hands tight on your knees. He fumbles with your belt buckle, jerking slightly on the table when he tugs your pants down your legs.

Those rough hands spread your knees wide, sliding up the inside of your thighs. He leans in, and sucks at your cunt over your panties. You can feel the press of his tongue, the scrap of fabric tossed aside. “Goddamn.” He looks at you with heavy lidded eyes, almost swaying where he stood. “You smell so fucking good.” He licks a wet line, teasing before he’s kissing at your pussy, tongue lapping at the wetness he finds. It’s lewd and loud, and both of your hands are in his hair, his hands on your hips jerking you closer.

“If you were that hungry Bradshaw, I would have ordered dinner.”

He chuckles and the exhalation against your clit causes your skin to break into goosebumps. There’s a bite to the inside of your thigh, the pressure makes your back bow. He lifts his head, wiping moisture from his chin and licking his fingers. “Baby I’m fucking starved.” Those fingers return between your legs stroking your slit slowly up and down. “Spread more, let me see that needy pussy.”

You hide your eyes behind your hands, letting your legs spread enough that they’re hanging on either side of the table. You can feel the weight of his gaze, and it only makes you wetter. Those fingers continue to tease, slipping just inside. He ducks his head, tongue flicking against your clit as two fingers thrust into you without warning. Dancing on the edge of pain, you can feel your eyes roll back in your head as he starts to fuck them in and out. Your body accepts him so easily, drawing him in further. You’d landed in bed with him twice, and already he can pull sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make. His shoulders bump your legs further apart, one hand sliding under your ass, lifting your hips more.

His fingers soaked with your slick slide from your pussy, easing further back. You grip the edge of the table when his index finger rubs at your ass. Your heart pounds in your chest, legs trembling, grip tightening. You’d done this once or twice before, but something about him touching you there feels better than the previous times. His tongue laps at your pussy with broad strokes, his groan of pleasure rumbling over your skin.

He kisses up your stomach, biting just under your breast. His lips close over yours, and he’s kissing you. There’s still the slow, easy circling of his finger around your asshole gentle and patient compared to the way he takes your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he licks the spit from the corner of your mouth.

“Color?” His voice was so rough, eyes dark.

“Green.” You whimper, feeling your hips rock back, moving against that slow insistent touch. You can stretch to tap the top drawer on the exam table. “In there.”

He opens the drawer and withdraws a bottle of lube. "You think DOD would have a fit if they knew part of their budget was used to fuck this pretty ass?”

“You’re drunk on pussy.” You mutter. “Not even making sense.”

He removes the safety label with his teeth, spitting the plastic aside. The cap flips up, and he’s coating his fingers that return to their spot. “Breathe for me baby.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek. “I’ll go slow.” Bradley’s head disappears between your thighs again, that eager mouth returning to your pussy. There’s a slow, even pressure as his finger presses into you, it’s so slick and warm, and you want to close your legs, overwhelmed. Instead, you shift your hips, legs straining with how wide you’ve got them open. You can hear his hum of approval, the vibrations rough against your clit.

You clap a hand over your mouth, needy sounds coming from your mouth. His finger is just barely inside of you, and it’s stretching you, teasing, sliding in, retreating out to circle the tight ring of muscle. “Bradley,” you whimper, the slick sound of his lubed finger in tandem with the way he was kissing your pussy.

He's keeping you on edge, spiraling higher and higher with each touch. Each kiss, each slow, deliberate press of his finger, until you can feel his knuckles flat against your ass. “Fuck baby I don’t know what’s needing me more. This greedy wet hole, or your sweet ass.” His tongue swipes, long and slow against your cunt, the finger starting to move. He thrusts it slow and deep, and liquid heat is racing through you. He's taking over you, every fiber of your being screaming for him.

Slow, easy kisses are pressed to your stomach, his tongue teasing along your ribcage. His hand shifted, his index and middle finger sliding into your pussy, working in tandem with the one in your ass. His mouth closes over your breast, teeth grazing a nipple. He’s flushed, lips shiny with your slick, nuzzling against your chest. “You’re so gorgeous baby.” He’s murmuring praise against your skin. “So tight, pulling me in. Like you can’t get enough of me.” There’s a pinch of teeth against the hollow of your throat.

“You’re so goddamn wet you’re dripping onto the floor.” He breathes against your lips. “Makes me want to lick it up so it’s not wasted. You’re too good to waste.” He’s fucking his fingers into you now, the double penetration of your cunt and ass sending you higher, hands white knuckled gripping the edge of the table, hips raised, moving against him. The fingers in your pussy curled just right, brushing that spot that makes you see stars. He sucks at your neck as you come, whimpering and begging for him, for more, for the pleasure to not end. “Fuck, I like it when you sing for me baby.” He chuckles darkly, capturing your mouth in a kiss.

You cling to him, hands gripping his back, riding out the tail end of your orgasm. He continues to touch and tease using those fingers and his wicked kisses to keep you thinking of only him. You tighten around him as he starts to ease his fingers from your body. “No…” you murmur, not liking the empty feeling. He wipes his hands on his flight suit, before they settle on your hips.

“Can you take my cock, baby?” The only point of contact at your hips, and you shiver, knowing how good he feels.

You nod, and his grip tightens ever so slightly. “Yes,” it takes you two times to say it out loud. He exhales and presses a kiss to your forehead. He slaps your pussy, swallowing your yelp with another kiss.

“Good, because that creamy cunt is begging to be fucked.” He lets go of you just long enough to tug his flight suit down, freeing his cock. He holds you steady, pressing into you in one smooth thrust. There’s a moment where he’s still, eyes fluttering closed, lips parted in a soft sound of pleasure. “I still want that ass, baby, but I’m not going to last long. You feel too fucking good. When I take it, I’m going to make it last. You’ve been on my mind all goddamn day.” He starts to thrust into your pussy, hips snapping against yours. His weight drops onto you when he rests on his forearms.

His voice purrs against your ear. “Your panties felt so good when I jerked off in them. So soft, they were still damp when I got my dick in them.”

Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling that sinful mouth down to yours. You bite his lower lip, and he groans. “Next time film it and send it to me.” You kiss him, swallowing that filth sound that drops from his lips. He lifts your hips, wrapping your legs firmly around his waist before he’s slamming into you. It’s rough, just this side of pain, as he takes, using you for his own pleasure. A second orgasm tears through you when his hand drops between you, rubbing at your clit. Skin against skin, the exam table scraping against the floor under your combined weight.

“Come for me Bradley.” Mouth skipping against his jaw, cheek. “Come in me. You wanna own this don’t you? Do it baby, fill this greedy cunt. I want to feel you slide out of my wrecked pussy when I drive home.”

“Fuck.” He groans, head bowed, moaning your name. He’s buried in you balls deep, you’re so sensitive and worn that you can feel his cock twitch inside you. “God Doc.” He kisses you sloppily, panting against your mouth. “You’re fucking filthy, and I love it.” He pulls out, and with it the ache settles in once more. His hands shake as he draws your panties back up your legs, followed by your pants. He kisses you low on your belly. He fixes his flight suit, and reaches for you, gently pulling you off the table, and holding you against him until your legs can support your weight.

“Morning birthday sex, evening birthday sex…” You mutter trying to wrangle your hair back into a regulation style. “You stole my panties.” You shake your head with a grin. “It’s starting to sound like you like me Bradshaw.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

“Little bit.” He rumbles, kissing the top of your head. “Can I buy you dinner?”

“What? Can’t survive on pussy alone?”

“Want a burger, then pussy.” He cups you through your pants, pressing upward just slightly. “Get cleaned up and meet at that burger joint on the beach in a couple hours?” He’s rubbing you slowly, your panties soaked and clinging to your body.

“It’s a date.” You grind against his hand, spent and exhausted, but you’re intoxicated by his touch.

He flushes, kissing your cheek. “Looking forward to it, Doc.”

#Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x you #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw/Reader #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw/you #reader insert #reader imagine #shelly writes #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun: Maverick

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earthstellar · 1 year

Text

having a Kinder chocolate bar while working the Sunday shift, it's the only thing keeping me awake rn tbh

but of course, now I am thinking about Transformers lmao:

I imagine what with Swerve's bar snacks available, the medbay on the List Light probably ends up getting a secret snack stash made up of mostly energon candies various patients/visitors have tried to bribe them with (unsuccessfully)

does Velocity eventually go up a weight class? yeah probably because fuck yeah snacks and people seem to give her a lot particularly (possibly because everyone is aware she's the most junior medic on board so they assume she'll go for the snack bribes, she doesn't but def eats them on longer shifts later lol)

Ratchet approves though, because he still feels anxious about medics not having heavier armour anymore like most did during the war

he can't help it, it stresses him out and he especially worries about Velocity because she never experienced the war herself and has relatively little combat/under fire experience compared to himself and First Aid, so as a result of his own trauma he would probably like to see her build a little more proto-mass even if only so that she has a good, civilian, non-wartime excuse to build up a little more armour

like sure it's probably not ideal to be snacking on Swerve's bar snacks all the time (they're probably not the most nutritious form of energon goodies) but on the other hand, larger staff members are safer staff members-- thicker armour and more proto-mass means there's more material to work with if someone takes blaster fire while trying to assist a patient and gets wounded themselves etc.

plus it sure as hell makes it easier to move heavier weight patients with larger frame types etc. so it's a win-win, really

so he doesn't complain about it too much, but does eventually ask Swerve to make some slightly healthier energon treats to balance out all the snacking, lol

(he is also snacking and he maybe goes and asks Swerve for somewhat healthier snacks after Drift notices some additional mass on Ratchet too lmao, which Drift is Very Much OK With but he also wants the best for his old conjunx and the other medics, so he may or may not help buy Swerve some better ingredients for the next batch of energon treats, by which I mean he totally does)

anyway man this Kinder bar is keeping me alive because I sure did not sleep last night for shit

snack posting, lol

#long post #just thinkin #mtmte #lost light #medbay posting #maccadam #maccadams #idw transformers #idw velocity #idw swerve #idw ratchet #idw drift

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paulmccartneygrindr · 6 days

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The local assisted living facility is offering paid CNA classes. Should I take them? I'm tired of working dead-end jobs that go nowhere (also, i'm insane). Honest opinion.

oh thats a difficult question. being a cna can be really hard. like, physically demanding (having to transfer/reposition patients, walking around a lot etc.), stressful (you're probably gonna be understaffed and even if you're not your coworkers might suck lol), gross (you'll have to deal with shit and piss, occasionally blood, etc.), you'll have a lot to do in a fairly short period of time which can be overwhelming at times. some of these things are jus the nature of the job, some are dependent on facility or even what shift you work. one thing for sure i would do is look into what employees at the facility have said about it. like i worked at a number different places when i was a cna and some were better than others but i had two experiences that were so bad i would never work there again. usually when you get paid training for cna stuff they expect you to work there so you wouldn't wanna get stuck somewhere that sucks for a while lol.

there are pros to being a cna though. it can genuinely be pretty rewarding. one thing i liked working in long term care vs. working in the ER is you can really build relationships with patients (though obviously another con is that makes it harder when they die). but also there are other opportunities outside of long term care, like working inpatient in a hospital like in med-surg/peds/icu/etc. or the ER or there are sometimes jobs in like clinics for cnas. usually they want you to have some sort of cna experience before they'd hire you. pay can be decent (it really depends where you work). most places offer you money if you wanna go back to school like if you wanted to be a nurse or medical assistant or something.

since you would be in an assisted living facility i can give you some idea of what the job would require:

if you're working days you'd spend the beginning of the shift helping the clients you're assigned to get dressed/ready for the day and then take them to breakfast. you'd probably have to help pass out meals and feed some clients. usually between meals there would be some sort of activity you'd help out with (a lot of times they have people specifically for activities but you'd need to at least help clients get to them). sometimes clients take naps at some point during the day (usually after lunch) so you'd help get them in bed/up from bed. most of the time you need to check on clients every couple hours (usually every 2 at a minimum but depends on the client) to see if they need the toilet / need their incontinence products changed. you'd have to help patients do baths or showers, i think usually that happens more in the evening. after dinner you'd help clients get ready for bed [<this was always the most stressful part to me because it's a lot to do in a couple hours]. in your down time you'd probably do some cleaning/laundry and charting (usually it's in the computer but some places still do paper charting lmaooo) which isn't hard but can be time consuming. I mostly worked nights so so that's what i'm much more experienced with. it's honestly way less work lmao. it's the same checking on patients every 2 hours or so. a lot more cleaning but usually it's just like, mopping or whatever. usually they expect you to get like 1-2 patients dressed for the morning.

all this also depends on facility. like the last assisted living i worked at had a memory care unit and i was bounced between working in either of those. memory care is obviously harder but i enjoyed it more for some reason. usually assisted living places don't have a nurse on location 24/7 (unlike a nursing home) so they'll have caregivers trained to pass meds and a lot of places have like 'lead' caregivers or whatever so there would be room for advancement there.

#tl;dr it depends

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scintillyyy · 11 months

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the firefighter show, episodes 3-5

okay the bouncy house thing is in fact one of my greatest fears <3

also, i'm pretty sure "repelling down a cliff" is not standard training and probably should not be handled by probie!buck. these things are usually done by special teams (eg, hazmat, water rescue, car seat), who are a select group of people who get trained on special rescue procedures (or other things) and are often not all at the same firehouse. is everyone on the 118 on every single special team? man, their salaries must be insane with all the extra team money they get.

hydrocodone? did anyone not give narcan as soon as they saw the pill bottle? that would have cleared things right up. actually, the cop should have immediately given narcan once she saw it was hydrocodone. cops do that all the time.

oh they're playing video games on shift? must be a holiday. because, you know, they're really not supposed to be doing stuff like that during shift. they have a lot of actual work they need to do during the day. like training. maintenance. cleaning. cooking. (this is actually a pet peeve of mine because while i understand the scene is supposed to be cute bonding, there's already a large contigent of people who think that firefighters sit around all day doing nothing and just waiting for calls and then complain because firefighters are paid by tax dollars. we don't need to feed into the they slack off when they're not on a call narrative, okay?? so many people think they do jack-shit during the day. for example at my husband's work, they're busy all morning with various firehouse tasks or training or education or other important things, like going to make sure that businesses are up to fire code. they get a two hour quiet time after lunch, and can technically do what they want but the idea is they probably want to get a nap in in case they're up all night. more firehouse tasks until dinner/clean up ajd then i think it's lights out/quiet time around 8pm--again, some free time to do quiet activities until bed. and then sleep/go on calls. my husband has brought his gaming laptop to work on rare occasion to play during quiet time but this is rare occasion, and he's far more likely to do it on holiday schedule when they don't have to perform near as many tasks) (see also, people complain about what firefighters buy for their meals at the grocery store everyday because "why should my tax dollars pay for them to eat that", totally ignorant to the fact that aside from communal condiments and stuff ffs put in their own money every morning to buy food for meals that day).

why isn't chim dressed in uniform. that's also kind of required. wait, did chim show up on an off shift day to talk to them? (that's not a thing that happens ever lmao). or did he just leave during shift after yelling at his officer???? write up write up write up.

wait, are they in fire gear for a medic call???????? whyyyyyyyyy you never wear that stuff unless you're at an actual fire. 1) it sucks and it's full of carcinogens. 2) it's heavy as hell 3) there's no point, you don't need fire gear on a medic call. (ps, buck's fire gear is missing his neon probation sign)

"smartest emt" please do not refer to a paramedic as an emt ever again bobby. they will get offended.

"our job ends here at these doors", no bro, you do you still have to write your report at the hospital, sooooo....you still technically have a job to do. get going.

"just got off the phone with the surgeon" (and got extensive details about my subordinates medical status), sir, that's a hipaa violation, majorly so. the most the medics will get are "did the person we transported survive or not".

sorry, but i'm pretty sure i just saw buck doing the more ineffectual chest compressions ever.

yea a ff/pm is not allowed to attack a bystander (as much as they may want to sometimes). that's a write up hen. honestly i bet this fire station has the worst google reviews in the world tbh. one star: "i'd give them zero if i could!!! one of them attacked me!!!"

also, you never pick up a personal call on the job buck lmao. i actually know this from personal experience. (because everytime something goes wrong with the house and i need to get in touch with my husband he rejects the calls until he can call me back lmao) (these aren't super need him immediately emergencies btw, i think one had to do with the power/circuit breaker and i had no idea wtf i was doing and i needed to actually talk to him not just through text) (actually i think the only time he would have ever actually picked up a call from me during a call would have been when i was close to my due date. and even then, it probably could have waited 15 minutes for them to be done) (also if it was a true emergency, you call the firehouse and get a hold of their superior by calling their station or the main station if everyone at the station is out and then someone will get a hold of them)

okay, so they dress in full gear for a medical call, but they wear their class bs to a plane crash in the water? where's their water rescue gear? what is happening.

i have....thoughts on how this show conceptualizes the idea of the fire family versus what it actually is and why. and it has a lot to do with the lack of union presence in this show. but i will need to watch more to conceptualize my thoughts fully on this. but i will say this (and will repeat it): the fire fam is more than just one insulated station. you know who's actually really, really important? the people you went to academy with. my husband's got a friend from academy and they've actually never worked together since then, but they're still closer than half the people my husband has worked with. and if my husband ever ended up in the hospital, he'd be the first one to visit. all i'm saying, bobby, is that chim's academy buddies would like to have words with you about chim's family.

oh good, we're at the part where this show ended right away because bobby never would have been hired on another fire department ever again. listen, drugs and killing 148 people and most likely never being able to pass a psychological exam to continue doing this job, he supposedly was born in 1968, which would have made him 46 at the time of the fire. and while i did look up lafd's candidate requirements and there's apparently no upper age limit apparently (aside from common sense because you should not start an extremely hard physical job at 50 when you have to put in 30 years for the pension), there's probably several reasons why a 46 year old with a history of a debilitating back injury and drug/alcohol abuse would not end up being hired on at the lafd. and make no mistake, bobby would have to apply to work there. you don't get transferred from state to state, especially onto a big city department like that.

that being said, i will give them that addiction is a problem within the job due to the stress of the things they see and how physically stressful it is on the body. it probably varies by department, but here's how they handle it. here, you get one. one chance, one time you show up to work drunk or high and you are allowed to say "i have a problem" and the department will help you get helped. if it happens ever again, you're gone. do not pass go. do not collect $200. you're done. maybe you can try to get on a contract department or volunteer department instead.

#some firefighter bullshit #funny story just this weekend my husband asked my the name of the emergency show he hates and i was like nine one one lmao

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superbcandyangel · 1 month

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Ooh I liked those! Okay i gotta ask about more!!!!

- hanamiya, your power forward looks gnc af [GOTTA know]

- dissecting the bird (trying to find the song) [where is the bird dissection coming in, please, connect these 2 thoughts for me]

- substitute [cant tell if this is an unassuming placeholder name, or a hint at something REALLY angsty]

👀

hell yeah you managed to hit some of my absolute favorites <3

hanamiya, your power forward looks gnc af

the fucked up KNB ImaHana fic I was working on long before the one I actually posted, which started as a fluffy little throwaway about Kazuya Hara wearing skirts and KiriDai being protective of him and ended up turning into a fic about Imayoshi being an absolute creep and sexually harassing him to get a rise out of Hanamiya

snippet:

And so Chekhov's other shoe dropped. Imayoshi caught up in an instant, caging Hanamiya against the doorframe. Hanamiya barely squirmed. He tipped his chin up in a performance of defiance, but Koujirou knew his captain. If he really wanted out, he was plenty capable. Imayoshi knew that too.

If Hanamiya wasn't acting now, there had to be a reason he wouldn't knock Imayoshi's teeth in.

"You enjoy making a fool of me, Makoto. A lovesick one, sure, but a fool nonetheless." He spoke slowly, softly, leaning impossibly further into Hanamiya's space. "I've been very patient with you all these years. I think we can at least be honest with each other."

"Honestly? You're not lovesick, senpai, you're just sick."

A weary hum, with too much familiarity, too much affection for Koujirou's liking. "Such a pretty mouth saying such nasty things."

Hara shifted behind him. Voyeurs or bodyguards. Victims or bait. Imayoshi's hands traveled down, down, and Hanamiya was letting him. Visibly gritting his teeth, but letting him all the same.

"If you're so envious, I'm not the only one who's sick."

2. dissecting the bird (trying to find the song)

DabiHawks fic!!!! and the only multichapter I'm working on. the title comes from a John Craigie song (which is barely relevant unless you squint So hard) and it started in the same collection of BNHA BFRB fics as some (most) of the others on the list

Hawks has dermatillomania (hence dissecting the bird) and refuses to take his uniform off during sex with Dabi on his infiltration-turned-honeypot mission bc of that, partially due to Commission PR training but particularly bc he's afraid Dabi will think he's taking his non-burnt skin for granted

the first two chapters are Hawks' own perspective, and the third gives more insight into how Dabi feels about it

snippet:

Frankly, he'd resigned himself to a lovely, bitter, sexless marriage to his own right hand before the asshole had sauntered into his life, wasn't sure his medical miracle of a body could handle much more than that. Hawks seemed dead set on proving him wrong. Not sweet, rarely gentle, seeming to sense the hell that Touya would put him through if he treated him like he was made of glass, but a certain respect, reverence even; an acute awareness of some line he couldn't cross, the stupid fucking limits of his stupid fucking body as it ate itself alive. Damn hero.

Probably something they taught at those boot camps they were calling hero schools, right before handing out baby's first phone book and a license to use it as they deemed fit. He hadn't been able to find records of Hawks attending one, strangely enough, but it was a safe bet all the same. He'd be lying if he said he weren't getting something out of it. Lying if it didn't stir something dim and deep and prone to groveling that he thought he'd stomped out decades ago, being treated like this. Seeing something almost like remorse for watching as Touya crossed that line himself, of his own free will.

Well, if Hawks really wanted to even the playing field, he could think of one way.

3. substitute

100% something angsty lmao, it's a fic exploring Naruto's grief over Sasuke leaving the village for Orochimaru (and his denial that it even qualifies as such) and why he reacted to Sai the way he did — he represents a direct, active, intentional threat to the sanctity of Team Kakashi as he knows it

Sai is my absolute favorite character in the series but I simply never pass up an opportunity to write about agonizing grief

snippet:

Kakashi-sensei had gone on to talk about how you just can't win after a loss like that — every change hurt, good or bad. So did staying the same. Anything that reminded you of the time you spent with them also reminded you that nothing would ever bring that back. The more you clung to scraps of familiarity, passed up opportunities they'd never get to have, the more you alienated yourself from who you were with them in the first place.

Meanwhile each new development, no matter how petty, how small and stupid and insignificant, carved the knife a little deeper. It showed that the world was forgetting, piece by piece. It put the responsibility on you to remember, if no one else would. To plant your feet and refuse to betray their memory. To keep them alive, in some form, whatever the cost.

Naruto thought that a double-edged sword sounded way too cool to describe what he was feeling.

#thank you for the ask <3 #the naruto one might eventually be an enemies to lovers type deal but really all my fics are first and foremost character studies #if they become shippy that is simply a bonus

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punksarahreese · 1 year

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do you perhaps have any headcanons/thoughts about either how you would have liked Ava’s story to go in general, or how you would have written her off?

Soooo many thoughts on this 😭 tw ofc cuz Ava’s story is fucked lmao

Ava killing Cornelius was a bad scenario like. Ma’am what the fuck were you thinking

But if we’re still keeping the murder storyline:

She was way too good of a doctor to do that and not know how easily traceable it was and so logically something tells me she wanted to get caught

Give me a rewrite where Ava knew she needed help and knew her manic state/split was only going to end in her or someone else dying

She purposefully got caught and accepted her fate

But a psych evaluation showed the truth

She was deeply trouble and needed severe help and in a moment of clarity after what she did, she recognized she needed help but couldn’t get out of the situation she had put herself in

So if we’re sticking with the Ava killing Cornelius storyline, it would have been so much better to have her live and even given a side plot of her court case and stuff

Gimme my Ava non compos mentis plea 👀

ALTERNATIVELY

Connor comes to his damn senses and notices Ava’s personality shift and is like hm maybe I should ask dr Charles

Daniel is 👀 cuz we know that man loves a good fucked up case

He has his theories and knows Ava’s attachment to Connor so he proposes a plan

If his theory of Ava having borderline or an adjacent disorder, Connor is clearly her Favourite Person and she would do what he wanted if he promised her he wouldn’t leave her

Connor manages to coax Ava into seeing Charles

He made some empty promises 😐 but it was what had to be done

The first half hour is sat in silence

Until Charles mentions Connor’s dad and the rumours he was trying to spread about him and Ava

And it’s like a switch goes off

She’s screaming and shaking and insisting he’s a no good snake trying to drive a wedge between her and her Connor

And she confesses a lot of things

Including her attempt on her own life during one of her and Connor’s fights

How she can’t make friends in Chicago and her emotions are never “normal” they’re either on overdrive or completely numbed

She explains her hallucinations and mentions she has almost no memories of childhood

Charles can see in her eyes that she isn’t stable and the fear she can’t hide tells him Ava is aware of that fact too

The things she said was enough for him to put her on a 72h psych hold

Which she fought and screamed and pretty much lost it on them

She did have to be restrained and Connor felt so guilty because this was the second time he’s seen this happen to a woman he cared about

Especially when he heard her begging for him to help and promising she isn’t crazy and “I wouldn’t hurt anyone! Please Connor, don’t leave me, please!”

And in the end Ava is diagnosed with BPD and bipolar 1 among other things

Her swings between mania and depression are too unstable and on top of the things she’s said during therapy and threatened when she’s manic she is deemed unfit to make her own medical decisions

So Ava gets committed for a while and becomes a patient of Dr Charles

Maybe she gets a few appearances in the show as a patient and she doesn’t die

Idk just give Ava a chance to get better please 😭

#this is all over the place it’s 5 am lmao #asks #mutuals #nova tag #chicago med #ava bekker #connor rhodes #rhekker

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izzy-b-hands · 10 months

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daisy, plumeria, and lavender!

Ella!! Thank u 🫂❤️!

Daisy— what is your idea of the perfect date?

I want to say something fancy, because I do have Dream Date Ideas that are v fancy (a night to the theatre, or going on a slightly longer drive to visit something interesting, a nice dinner somewhere normally neither person could afford but you can if you split the bill, etc) but all of those rely on me being in the right frame of mind and prepared to deal with any new or weird sensory stuff. And unfortunately, my brain isn't doing so hot in regulating that at the current time.

So for now, I would definitely lean towards something like a regular movie date, or even better for me personally:

Rent a hotel room, split the cost (so neither of you have to know where the other person lives if you aren't at a stage to be trusting them with that info yet), and have a movie night and/or gaming night there. You can order room service, be comfortable and assured that if the person winds up being an ass, you can call downstairs and get the fuck out of there. Plus, if it gets to the point of fucking, you're already on the bed and can multitask with whatever you're watching.

It's admittedly a weirdly lazy one (or so I've been told lmao), but I don't like the idea of putting high expectations on this stuff if you don't have/want to. It should be enough to want to hang out together at all, see how you feel abt each other, and go from there to different/fancier/etc date stuff.

Plumeria— are you currently working on any creative projects? if so, what kinds?

I'm working on my Izzy Hands Bingo Card prompts (six done! But more to go if I want to get a blackout on the card!) and also plan to do some of the prompts for the Our Flag Au-gust post that's been going around.

Aside from those I should really be trying to make a video poem for Button Poetry's video contest (opens in a few days!), but I've such low confidence in my writing at the moment that I'm not sure i can be vulnerable enough to write a decent poem lmao.

Lavender— what is currently on your mind (aside from this ask game)?

I'm stoned off my ass, so a stupid number of things, which is only slightly more than when I'm sober, but-

I want to be more productive, but I keep burning out whenever I even vaguely try to put the metaphorical pedal to the metal and I don't know how to fix myself. There are dishes I need to do. I need to remember how to be vulnerable and a little more stupid and vapid so I can get out of my own head and be brave enough to post more writing, original and fic. I need another tattoo. I need to ace my job interview tomorrow so I can make more money faster and be able to afford said tattoo. I need my grandfather to be okay after his knee replacement sx this fall (he probably will be but he's got high blood pressure and our family has an unfortunate pattern of dying during routine medical procedures, and he already nearly did that once with his appendix while he was in the Air Force, but who's to say that doesn't mean this time it would be The Time?) I should be better. I want to learn to be okay with being worse.

And I have a slice of cake Housemate bought for me tonight, sitting beside me. If I can manage even three more calls on my next shift (930-1215) then I'll let myself eat it as a reward, even though I need a lot more than three calls. But I'm trying not to think about that last bit too much.

#text post #ask box things #god i have to start calling again in tenish minutes and i just wanna #idk. brain having feelings #i want to eat cake and chill and maybe play video game but Need Money #I never wrote the edizzy Rope AU idea i had and i should and that is not what i need to be thinking abt during this shift aksndkfng #long post

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starcrossed-sky · 9 months

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(previous anon) thank you for the detailed answer. my knees have no cushion either! and yeah, my body does not move the way i want it to in a few ways. standing still for more than a minute or so quickly gets very painful, and the only way to mitigate it temporarily is to walk slowly or shift my weight from one foot to the other if sitting isn't an option. i have to sit when i bathe/do dishes/laundry. i've mentioned this to doctors in the past, but they just tell me to exercise more, which unfortunately is not ideal because exertion makes my base level of fatigue worse to the point where i can't keep up with my day job. i'll put a pin on seeing a physical therapist some time, though; i have been planning to look into my mobility issues for a while.

about dieting- i've always been fat, since i was a child, and i felt completely neutral about my own body. when i was a small child, it was seen as cute and a sign that my parents fed me well, but by the time i was in high school, PE class involved everyone getting their BMI measured and i was classified as obese (32 or so). ever since then, my mother has been obsessed with my weight and mentioning how worried she is for my health and how i should definitely be on a diet because i was "ballooning" (said with terror and pleading).

but i was kinda never sold on it? i have relatives who're huge into dieting and would post their gym and progress photos on facebook, but some months later i'd see them at reunions and they had already gained it all back. i even had a distant aunt whose heart gave out because she gained and lost so much weight many times throughout her life. when it came to weight loss, my stance has always been: what's the point of all that effort and expensive products/services if it's so easy to gain it back anyway? i just want my weight to be stable, not to keep going down. unfortunately, i live in southeast asia, where being fat is seen as "you're gonna have a heart attack any minute if you don't drop everything and lose weight right fucking now!!!"

if anything, the only thing that annoys me about my weight and general size/shape is that it's hard to shop for clothes and shoes in my size lol. specialized plus size stores are always more expensive, economies of scale, etc. i always gotta rely on hunting for foreign overruns or secondhand stuff since everyone's so small in my country :p

Oh god, I can't imagine trying to shop for clothes at our size (I think my BMI is also in the lower half of the 30s... not that I pay attention bc that's not what BMI was designed for) in an Asian country. It's hard enough in the US and over here, Asian sizes are notorious for "plan on buying at least one size up from your US size, probably two." I hav e enough of an interest in Asian fashion that I go looking occasionally and immediately have to laugh in pain at "size: XL waist: 112cm" type size charts. (my waist for reference is 50in/127cm)

You should definitely see a physical therapist if you can find a decent one (I have no advice for this, on account of there being an ocean between us, and also I myself have never actually used one). I only had immediate pain from standing during the worst of my Bad Hip period, but I have permanent back problems and can't stand for long periods without an assistive device (which in my case means... a heavy backpack as a counterweight. Lmao.)

Also, as far as fatigue goes, if your body is running estrogen as your primary hormone, get checked for anemia! I had horrific anemia before getting on T, and it was a definite factor in my chronic fatigue.

And, well, yeah, none of what you described with your relatives is surprising to me, as someone who has followed actual weight health science all my life as a survival need. Humans tend to vary by 5 or so pounds in either direction depending on various factors, but any weight loss of more than 10-15 lbs (please don't ask me to convert to kilos I don't have that one memorized) is like... it's medically concerning... unless the person is dieting! then it's fine!

Yeah, bullshit.

Good luck out there anon.

#diet culture #just on there so I can refind this post in the future #kneeling anon

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tsukkishinata · 1 year

Text

fic: doctorflower au

ship: tsukihina

type: fic

complete?: yup

word count: ~2800

notes: this asadai fic (here) had them as a sideship with a story and i just wanted to know what it was so i wrote it lol. the details aren’t directly the same, I just mostly took the premise and rolled with it

warning: uh, theres a fade to black sex scene lmao but its nothing at all, theyre adults and really flirty here

Based on the AsaDai fic where Tsuki was apparently a doctor who didn’t take care of himself and Hinata worked at a flower shop. It’s Future Fic/Canon Divergent.

Despite being a health practitioner, Tsukishima wasn’t the epitome of health. It was difficult when he had to work long hours and take short breaks. With no one to monitor him, he just went about his life like that for the past few years.

Hinata was making his weekly delivery to the hospital gift shop. He didn’t expect to see Tsukishima Kei there. They hadn’t really spoken much after high school and Tsuki doesn’t really keep in contact, so Hinata had no idea he had been working so close to home. (He at least knew he was in the medical field, if he remembered correctly which college Tsuki said he was attending before they graduated.)

They were in the hospital cafeteria, Tsukishima taking a small break, Hinata who just wanted to grab a quick drink before heading back. It ended up a short reunion but Hinata managed to convince Tsuki to exchange numbers.

The next time Hinata had deliveries, he contacted Tsuki to see if they could do lunch together. He sounded reluctant but Tsuki invites Hinata to his office, where he usually takes his lunch break. Tsukishima’s definition of lunch break meant to eat while working. As in, maybe a few onigiri and lots of coffee. Hinata was appalled to see this and went into full lecture mode, saying he needed to eat properly. Upon closer inspection, Tsuki probably doesn’t sleep too well either as evidence by the bags under his eyes. Hinata made up his mind to at least get Tsuki to eat more.

Hinata makes him lunch the next day.

“What are you, my mom?”

Hinata sits with him during break and doesn’t leave until he eats it all. Tsukishima is reluctant, not knowing how well Hinata is as a cook but the bento is surprisingly edible. Hinata makes sure to distract Tsukishima so that he’s not working while eating. Hinata leaves with the empty lunchbox and Tsuki doesn’t thank him but he feels a little better physically.

This becomes a thing. Hinata tries to make lunch daily but he has his own job and life to worry about. Tsuki says it’s annoying but he always eats the lunch Hinata brings him.

Hinata catches him at the end of a shift one time and enters his car with him, forcing Tsuki to let him go home with him. Hinata had prepared a batch of food for the week so Tsuki had meals for several days. Tsuki doesn’t ask why he can’t come every few days like he always does. Hinata preps them dinner and they eat together. Just as Hinata thought, Tsukishima probably didn’t eat enough at home either.

After they’re done with their meal, Hinata helps clean up. Tsukishima watches Hinata try to put some of his stuff away and snickers when he can’t reach the top cabinets. Hinata pouts and tells him to put it away himself before leaving. It’s been a while since Tsukishima had anyone over, so after Hinata leaves, his place feels quieter than before. But with his belly full from two actual meals, he sleeps surprisingly well that night.

Hinata does still come to see him so they can eat lunch together. Tsukishima looks a bit fuller from eating more and getting more rest.

Some nights, tsuki would come back to his apartment to see that Hinata had left some food for him at his door.

On one of his rare day offs, he finds Hinatas flower shop. Hinata is surprised to see him but tsukki buys some flowers and asks when he’s done with work. Confused, Hinata asks what for and Tsuki tells him that he wants to take him out for dinner, to thank him for all the meals Hinata has made.

Hinata is blushing and Tsukishima realizes what exactly his proposition sounded like, which was not his intention. He’s floundering around but Hinata agrees. He’ll be back to pick him up later. Tsuki leaves and Hinatas coworker pokes fun at him for having a hot date.

Hinata knows that this is Tsukishima so he most definitely did not mean it like that. He feels a sense of deja vu where he did a double take at Tsukis request to go somewhere with him…

Tsuki picks him up and they go somewhere, not super fancy, just yakiniku. Hinata eats his fill, and makes sure Tsukishima does as well. Tsuki eats what he can but of course could ever compete with Hinata's appetite. They banter over silly things and they have a good time. Tsukishima pays for the meal and Hinata is happy to see that Tsukishima could loosen up.

They get in his car when tsuki remembers that he forgot to return hinata's containers. He asks if he’d like to swing by his place to pick them up? They agree and they’re head to Tsukishima’s place.

They don’t even realize what this feels like, a dinner and then bringing them home… Hinata is gathering his stuff, making sure that Tsukishima’s fridge is stocked and is about to leave when Tsukishima asks if he wants to stay the night. (Mostly because he wouldn’t have to make another trip.)

Hinata tries to poke fun, asking if this was Tsukis plan the entire time. Tsuki is flustered. It was definitely not his intention but he realizes what it sounds like after he says it out loud and he’s hiding his face.

Hinata laughs but declines staying. Tsuki escorts him home and Hinata waves him good night.

They go about their days, Tsukishima definitely in a better mental place. Hinata is used to making his own meals to stay fit so he doesn’t have a problem making more for Tsukishima. He’s making his hospital visit when one of the receptionists recognizes him and tells him where Tsukishima is.

“Sensei is lucky to have someone like you in his life. I wish my partner came to see me every day with a fresh meal.”

Hinata flushes. He doesn’t correct them and just heads to Tsukishima’s office. He doesn’t know how he should feel about that. It’s definitely not the first time people mistaken their relationship. Hinata sometimes thinks that they’re not wrong? How often do you have a friend make and deliver you meals? They practically went on a date the other night. Tsukishima asked him to stay the night…

Hinata is red faced standing in front of Tsukishima’s office door. His heart beating rapidly as he’s still thinking about what their relationship is and could be. Tsukishima almost runs into him when he opens the door. Hinata, still flustered and can’t think properly, shoves the lunch at him and tells him that he’s in a hurry and apologizes so he’ll have to eat by himself. Tsukishima watches Hinata flee.

Hinata is in a daze the next few days. He’s been trying to sort out his thoughts and feelings for Tsukishima. Of course he cares about him, that’s why he butted into his life like that, making him meals and checking in with him to make sure he’s taking care of himself. He has fun when he’s eating with him, Tsukishima is pleasant to be around. But does that mean he likes him? He really doesn’t know and he doesn’t know how Tsukishima views their relationship.

He thinks about both sides. If Tsukishima was just being nice, yeah, sounds plausible. He never was the best at being nice lol. Or if Tsukishima was trying to woo him? Hinata goes full flush whenever he thinks about that. Why does that thought make him so flustered and anxious? If he thinks about the implications, imagining him and Tsuki in dating and couple scenarios, Hinata just full out explodes because he can’t contain how fast his heart pounds. What does that MEAN???

Hinata apologizes for not being able to make meals the next week (via text). Tsukishima tells him it’s no problem and to take care of himself first. Hinata laughs saying that’s ironic coming from him. Tsukishima doesn’t think too much of it but he’s worried that he scared Hinata off. He doesn’t mind not getting hinata's meals anymore but he still wants to see him.

Tsukishima finds himself in front of hinata's apartment complex one night. He hesitates by the door staring at the ringer (he didn’t know which complex hinata lived in..) when a voice calls him from behind. Hinata had gone out for a night run after work and had just returned. Tsukishima, not having gathered his thoughts yet, quietly motions to some soup he brought over.

Hinata invites him in and they eat the soup, which Tsuki apparently made himself, because he thought Hinata might have gotten sick. Which was not a bad theory and that could have been the case but Hinata looked healthy, healthy enough to go jogging.

Hinata is full of nerves because he had been trying to avoid Tsukishima so he can piece together what his feelings are. Seeing him in person, his heart is just as happy and he’s resigned himself to realizing he enjoys Tsukishima’s company more than he lets off.

They’re sipping the soup in silence, both expecting the other to start the convo. Hinata had showered after his run so he’s sitting with shorts and wet hair and a towel around his neck, to catch the water from soaking up his t-shirt. Tsukishima hates that he wants to dry hinatas hair. He says to himself it’s so that Hinata doesn’t get sick but the back of his mind says he just wants to take care of Hinata, the way he had done for him. Anything to get closer to him.

Hinata jokes that Tsukishima can cook and isn’t a total lost cause. Tsuki counters that he never said he couldn’t cook, he just didn’t have time and energy to make his own meals. (Or eat them apparently, Hinata adds.) Hinata looks at his bowl of soup and apologizes for the past week and he could make him lunch again. Tsukishima responds that he really doesn’t have to if he’s tired of making food for him, Hinata doesn’t have any obligation to keep feeding him.

“Is it bad if I want to?”

“You usually do what you want to anyway, so it’s not like I can stop you.”

Tsukishima is actually relieved. He knows Hinata doesn’t have to keep making him food, and he is totally selfish for wanting him to. He wants to eat hinatas food, he wants to see him during lunch and maybe after work.

“If… it’s not causing you any trouble.”

“Hinata, you forced yourself into my car and home to make me dinner like a few months ago.”

Hinata laughs. He finishes his soup and collects the containers, ready to wash them up so Tsukishima could take them home. Tsukishima watches Hinata move around his kitchen and he likes the sight. It’s nothing special, but Tsuki had never seen Hinata in his own habitat before. He’d love to see all sorts of sights of Hinata.

They make small talk while Hinata finishes cleaning up. He asks what Tsuki would want to eat the next few days and Tsuki shrugs. (Tsuki bites his own tongue from saying “you.”)

There’s a tension in the air when Hinata passes the containers back and Tsuki is at the door. Hinata is looking up at him with wide eyes and Tsukishima swallows the lump in his throat and hurriedly bids him good night.

Even after Tsukishima left, Hinata's heart was still running in rapid mode. He knew Tsukishima was tall but standing at his door step, Hinata still couldn’t reach Tsukishima’s level. It was bad that he was calculating how much he would have to reach if he wanted to kiss him. Hinata scrunches into a ball and screams into himself.

Tsukishima is sitting in his car, head slamming his wheel. He had physically restrained himself from touching Hinata and he knows it’s dangerous if they keep this up. He doesn’t know if he’s reading the atmosphere wrong, he hopes not, but he doesn’t want to scare Hinata off.

They take lunch outside sometimes. There’s a nice grassy terrace by the hospital that is vacant if they’re lucky. They’re eating sandwiches that Hinata made, Hinata babbling about a large order for a customers cat’s birthday. Hinata pauses to take a bite out of his egg salad sandwich and resumes his story.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, that’s disgusting.”

Hinata makes a big motion of talking louder with food in his mouth and Tsukishima rolls his eyes. The bit of mayo clinging to the side of hinatas lip was way too distracting that Tsukishima thoughtlessly brought a napkin to wipe it off.

That shut him up faster than anything.

Tsukishima pulled back, not sure how he wanted to proceed. He coughs into his fist and apologizes. Hinata, suddenly shy, says it’s nothing and they munch on sandwiches awkwardly. Tsukishima finds that Hinata started to lick his lips a lot more afterwards.

The rest of their day, they’re both thinking about what excuse they could use to go over to the others place.

Tsukishima pulls up to Hinatas flower shop just as they’re closing up. He asks Hinata what he’s feeling for dinner tonight. Hinata smiles, and says “surprise me.”

Tsukishima takes him to his place and asks him to help him make dinner. They’re bouncing around Tsukishima’s kitchen, talking about other things. A few times they’d bump into each other and they’d smile nervously but continue working on their meal, tension thicker.

Hinata is rummaging through the cabinets asking where the spices are. Tsuki reaches up behind him to grab it, which had been hidden from Hinata view due to his height. Hinatas breath catches at the warmth of Tsukishima’s body radiating off his back. If Tsukishima notices their proximity, he says nothing and continues cooking.

They eat their meal like they usually do, small talk mostly from Hinata and some curt responses from Tsukishima. It almost feels like a normal friend dinner, except there’s an underlying something behind every word, glance and movement.

After eating, they take roles of washing and drying the dishes. As Hinata passes the last item to Tsuki, their hands brush and they almost drop the bowl. Hinatas quickly reflexes saves it with his foot. They laugh and the tension is dispelled a bit.

All things put away, Hinata makes to gather his stuff but Tsukishima stops him.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong.”

Tsukishima has him up against his counter, trapped between his arms. Hinatas heart is slamming against his chest but he feels a little better seeing how red Tsukishima’s face is as well. Hinata licks his lips and that’s about it for Tsukishima as he dives in.

Pulling away, Tsukishima straightens out his back and makes a crack about how far down he has to reach to get to Hinata, earning him a slap on the arm and Hinatas indignant pout.

“Fine, I’ll just come to you.”

Hinata jumps against him and Tsukishima barely catches him. His back hits the wall but he’s too focused on Hinata in his hands and mouth.

Tsukishima lets Hinata down eventually because he’s not young anymore and his back and knees are killing him. Hinata laughs about how Tsukishima’s endurance was sad and Tsuki take it as a challenge and he picks him up and drops him on the couch where he kisses the life out of Hinata. Both breathless, Hinata asks if his bed is comfier than the couch and with that, Tsuki pulls him up and drags him to the bedroom.

They bone.

Anyway come morning, they’re crusty and tired and Tsuki probably had to get up for work but he really doesn’t want to. He feels like a sap watching Hinata in his sleep but he doesn’t know how he’d go on living without the man in his arms.

Hinata eventually wakes up, sits up in a jolt and asks for the time. He groans because he missed his morning jog and Tsuki rolls his eyes, then makes a pass about doing something else for morning exercise. Hinata looks at him, then bursts out laughing. He kisses him, morning breath and everything. He agrees.

Anyway they bang again and Tsuki calls out sick and Hinata had the day off anyway. After cleaning up, they make and eat breakfast together. Tsuki is hesitant to bring it up because he doesn’t want this to be a one time thing. He believes that they’re established but they didn’t use a lot of words last night, mostly actions.

When Tsuki brings it up, Hinata reassures him that this is definitely not a one time thing and he’s been pining for him for a while and of course he likes him, snarky ass and all. Hinata rubs the back of his neck suddenly feeling self conscious. Tsuki moves next to him and kisses him, again and again saying he can’t believe he fell for someone like him, forcing himself into his life to improve it. Hinata is the best thing that had happened to him.

#mine #fic #tsukihina #also gonna tag this one cuz I like this one a lot too

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