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greenglowinspooks · 6 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

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Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

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Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,�� he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

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#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare #HDJFNDNDNFKDJF #I am the master of emotional whiplash #rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house #never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore #and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience #and also most of the JL #and some of JL dark #btw Eddie and Jon are besties #they’re both awful but they make it work #when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin #Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane #Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this #because I don’t want to #they are just Like That #if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine #also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO

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cuethediscoandthedrinks · 1 year

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jake sully + breeding/pregnancy kink hcs~

a bit of fluffy smut, enjoy lovelies <3

song rec while reading: i see who you are - instrumental (björk)

• lying in each other's arms, sat not too far from the communal bonfire; you could see friends and family all around you from the secluded spot you were in

• most of the children were asleep at this late hour, but some gently sleeping babies and their mothers sat around the hearth, sharing stories with their sisters and brothers, mothers and fathers

• the dark of night contrasted with the warmth and yellowish hues from the burning embers, smiles and sleeping faces, alongside quiet laughs and chatter echoed off of the inner cave walls

• you'd felt especially restless all day, the only thought tiding you through the chores and work being this moment; sat with your head to jake's chest, nuzzled up into his neck; your face was turned ever so slightly to the side, taking in the sight before you

• usually the urge to fly, jump and run was enough to keep you distracted from this, but today the still of the little hours of the night with the steady beat of jake's heart was enough to remind you: this was home, and so was he

• the seed of hope in making it permanent had been developing as you immersed and integrated yourself more and more into the na'vi culture; your shared bond with jake only strengthening, and the yearning to share your love in new and more meaningful ways grew in your mind and heart

• looking out to the circle of na'vi huddled close together, sharing songs and stories, your eyes naturally inclined to those expecting; some mothers were yet to have their children of course, younger in stature and skin tone, their bellies swollen and full, usually their mates by their side; the sight made your heart flutter, and a small smile grace your features

• jake noticed this, of course; you'd been much quieter than usual, although the way your body relaxed into him intimated that this quiet was of no alarm - he'a merely been glancing down every so often to your form, curled up in his arms as he traced patterns on your hips and upper thighs

• your expression of an almost warm-hearted wistfulness caught him off-guard, though; usually you were asleep by now, breaths deeper and body heavier in his arms. this time your eyes were cast to the group sat about the fire nearby, your lips briefly pursing in thought only to grow back into a small smile

• using his index and middle fingers, jake ever so gently lifted your face up to his by your chin, taking in your softened sleepy features, whispering a quiet "...what's on your mind, babygirl?"

• sitting up a little further, you wrapped your arms around either side of his neck, lightly stroking the soft braid, brushing any stray hairs away from his face, behind his ears; jake's arms snaked their way around your waist, his eyes flicking up and down your form in curiosity

• you'd then proceeded to express what filled your thoughts; being human and working at the base in pandora, the probability of having any children was low. but your life was so different now; even your body was made of completely different components - all that was you was your mind, and whatever you wanted it to be was now up to you; unconstrained by human rules and physical limits

• at your words, jake made sure to listen closely; his earnest little tail flicks and swivelled ears making sure to pay attention, as you continued to express how you felt the increasing urge to have a family; and how the prospect of being pregnant was especially appealing to you

• the idea of being so claimed by someone, in such an intimate way; enough to change your whole body once more, not only for your baby, but for your mate. giving him a family, and the mutual respect and love that such a shared act represents, it made your heart swell

• jake's gently widened eyes and small open-mouthed smile only affirmed your words, giving you the confidence to continue, almost whispering your confession, "..i just...i want to have that with you, if you wanted it too...i don't have it in me to fight something so instinctual...i'd have your babies, i want them...with you."

• as you subtly began to gyrate your hips into his now slowly hardening length, jake's expression only deepened as he nodded along to you; your words almost washing over him and sending him into a trance. you wanted children, and to mother, and best of all..with him. you wanted his children

• paired with your now growing arousal, and lightly rocking your form against his, he could tell that this captivated you in more ways than one. his mind shifting from a place of pride and sentimentality, to that of lust and an intimate kind of eroticism at your proposed prospect

• he'd have no quarrel with fucking you deep, watching as you swell full with his child; jake sighed out at the thought, "ah, i see..must mean you want a daddy too, huh. a daddy and his babygirl, mmhm?", your now more desperate grinds only increased the heat between you, the proximity beginning to rile the both of you up

• "..yes..but really..w'na be a mama.." you'd let out, eyes flickering back and forth between his emerald orbs and the ground; your flustered form couldn't be masked even by the enthusiasm you showed at the idea of starting a family

• letting out a feigned-innocent hum of approval, jake nuzzled his face closer to yours, understanding what you really meant - maybe the family was in the future, but your current state: pussy wet, pupils dilated, hips circling hard into his cock, was more interested in the prospect of making the babies, rather than rearing them

• "..ahh, ok..so my babygirl wants to be a mommy, and wants mommy and daddy to make babies, am i right?..protect their family..take care of each other?..well shit, sweetheart", he'd keen, already knowing the answer through your eager nods, the little high-pitched whine that escaped your lips, and your eyebrows contorting in weakly hidden arousal

• jake was fully on board with this idea of course, but took great satisfaction in watching your squirms of pleasure at the fantasy; sliding a hand down to your cloth-covered entrance, he moved the material to the side, sliding in his swollen cock; there'd usually be more foreplay, but feeling how much of your juices were already dripping from you, he took little more time in riling you up

• making sure to be out of direct sight from those at the fire, he gently scooted both of you deeper into the shadowed corner of the cave; once fully-sheathed inside your clenching, wet pussy, jake began to gently pump in and out of you;

• hips bucking rhythmically into you, your hips matching his speed as you rode him in equal fervor; in between desperate chesty groans, jake continued to gasp out, "..ffuck..you w-want a baby, sweetheart? i'll give it to you, i'll give it...ah-ah, fffuck..",

• "so t-tight for me..must've really wanted this, hm?..mommy wants daddy's seed, deep inside, right? m'gonna fuck it nice and deep for you babygirl, don't worry..sh-shit..", as his hips pushed deeper into you, his head leaned back on the cold stone wall, eyes clasped shut from the way your pussy constricted around his pulsing length

• all the while your hushed moans echoed in his ears, as you wantonly nodded to his lustful words; knowing just how much you wanted his babies, he was going to make damn sure you got them.

:,)

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sometimes-rendog · 5 days

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day 45, late bloomer (flower/frost)

#sometimesrd #treebark #treebarkweek #treebarkweek2024 #cw blood #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #i was so close to being late bc i couldnt export this yall #my buddy helped me tho (ly brunchbone)(shoutout to u)

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months

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Broken Roofs and Fixed Perspectives

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #xue yang #xiao xingchen #Lots of cut content notes on this one. Lets all have a moment of silence for all the cut A-Qing's in each perspective.#particularly ripped and buff 'Daozhang Defender 'A-Qing (her perspective)#funny but poor layout #XY also had a red arrow pointed at him in his own POV that said 'just troubled' but it made the panel too cluttered.#He does see himself as troubled and uses that to justify his actions #but I also think there is room for him to not really know exactly how to feel about himself in this situation #Yi-city is such a fantastic tragedy for so many reasons and you will bear witness to me rambling about it in the tags as this arc continues #Helping a blind man fix a roof? A manipulative act of building trust or genuine display of wanting to collaberate?#XY and A-qing have experience of the cruelty of the world where as xxc has blind (haha) faith that kindness prevails #These three simultaneous know each other more than the other's think and *yet* completely miss the mark.#the stories they tell in the blizzard (and the reactions they have) so perfectly display who these characters are #Both xxc and xy tell stories about unfair cruelty. To xxc it is others who's suffering is highlighted. XY highlight's his own.#A-qing understands xue yang more that she wants to admit. She predicts the twists in xy's story and empathizes with the hurt and anger #A-qing is also taking advantage of xxc! She is also lying to survive!#Though shes mostly benign in her intentions. She really did vibe check the rank stank on XY's soul on the spot #Alas...no one listens to teen girls....

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wingsofahoneybee · 1 year

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quick redraw of one of my favorite wally panels and a bonus doodle with a real thing my best friend said about her boyfriend

#look i actually think the ponytail is fun but youre lying if you think wally wouldnt say this #wally west #the flash #nightwing #dick grayson #birdflash #why the fuck is wallys hair so hard for me to draw help #my art #bee draws #dc comics

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clownsuu · 8 months

Note

I give you an

Also I stole this ask just so I can post this fuggin weirdo I made smhh (I raise from the dead just to post an oc again LMAOAOAOAO)

Hopefully this will be my last one in a long while I can live with 7 fuggin wh characters HHFHFUDJSNKSSJ- well- technically 8 if you include Betsy-

But to keep it (somewhat) short and sweet- my loser- a ye ol Milkman- Zachary Milksop (chronically lactose intolerant) and Betsy (a lil mascot moo sentient puppet)

Another character made almost spur in the moment again (like Mari) though thankfully not another bUG, but just some average human smhh. He’s a really simple guy, a loser, is as interesting as normal milk— he’s just the ye ol milkman who delivers you that gud shid smhh— enjoyer of the finer things in life (lunchables). A lil flirty and charming (in possibly the cringiest way possible) however he doesn’t really seem to pick up anyone besides the local cows that constantly harass him (and eats his pants). He enjoys watching them though, from v e r y m u c h afar——

hes just kinda, “that guy”

Also Betsy- a very sweet woman! She always greets everyone and has the friendliest extroverted personality ever! Always the type to bring (albeit tiny) gifts for her favorite neighbors and always leads when talking to anyone. Not like she would allow Zach to say anything anyway, she hates his polyester guts (and only him smhh)

#HOPEFULLY #h O p e fu l ly #Last oc in a while I am too tired to make another one in the spur of the moment again JDHCGDDH #I’m trying to rest damn it LMAO #But also doesn’t help that iv been feeling like absolute garbage lately #Last night specially- I just couldn’t sleep for the life of me- I was so upset and disheartened-#Dw I’m a lot better today- just still feelin a lil hollow #But anyway!#a loser 😔💔🥄🥄 iv been wanting to make a painfully dumb human character since iv made Dusty #But nOOOOOOOOO I MADE EVERYTHING EL S E #Now iv basically made every version of characters iv been wanting to make-#So now I can finally be at e a s e -#Welcome home #welcome home oc #Also hopefully that will actually motivate me to draw welcome home content again LDNHDJDDJDJ been severely l a c k I n’#Zachary Milksop & Betsy #They share a tag 💔🥄🥄

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roger-that-cap · 8 months

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seven summers

bradley bradshaw x fem! reader

this my first fic in what feels like a century for a completely different fandom. i have been gathering up the courage to do this again, and i've been sitting on this for about two months now. take it easy on me y'all i feel like a sixty year old veteran re-enlisting right now and i have NO idea how to reload my weapon

warnings: absolutely none! well theyre a little sad for a minute but nothing that tumblr can't handle

word count: 5.9k

Loud spaces weren’t really in your list of favorite places. You could tolerate bars more than you could do clubs, though, and your best friend took that into consideration when she planned the night out for you two. The music was loud and the people were starting to get rowdy, but at least no one was grinding on you or begging for a dance. That was always when you would wrap it up for the night, shaking your head at even thinking that it was a good idea.

“Thank you,” you told the bartender, an exceptionally gorgeous older woman who always seemed to have a meddling look on her face. Her hair was lightly waved around her face as she looked you up and down for a second. You thought she was going to say something, but she just nodded at you once with a small smile before you turned away again, facing the crowd of people you were about to delve back into. You were just leaving the bar top with a soda (you were the DD, as always) when you tripped over someone else’s huge shoe.

“Oh, shit,” a manly voice said as you tripped, and hands caught your arm before you fell over all the way. You looked up and saw a blond man in an achingly familiar navy uniform looking down at you, and your eyes narrowed as his eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry.”

His uniform nearly brought you to a scene of painful flashbacks. You knew you were bound to run into attractive men in uniforms so close to a base, but there was an air about this man that made you feel like you were almost running right through the mist, right through the shadow of a man that you once knew, and a man that wore that very same uniform as he walked away.

You loved Alexandra, your friend you met through other friends. The only downside was that she was in the Navy, and that meant that you were almost always surrounded with memories of your ex boyfriend when you were with her. Him and that stupid uniform that stole him away.

“No worries,” you said after a few seconds, smiling at him. “It’s crowded here.”

“Oh, nice tattoo,” he said, and your hand immediately went to your collarbone, where the one tattoo you had rested. It was a nicely done tattoo of a honeybee, a mark of your past. Something you probably should have gotten removed, but every time you tried to convince yourself, you gave another reason to not get it removed. Deep down, you knew why you couldn’t go through with it.

“Thank you, I got it a while ago.” That was all you could say as memories flashed in your mind, but you managed to smile.

“You look really familiar,” he said, and you noticed that he also had an air of confidence to him as well as familiarity. He was an attractive man, almost too perfect. And he had a smile that you knew lured girls in far too often to be completely innocent.

“I’m kinda new to the area,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Maybe we’ve run into each other at the grocery store or something? Or if you’re a frequent flier at the hospital.” That happened a lot. People you had never had as your own patients would sometimes recognize you, especially if they were often there.

“Yeah, maybe.” He looked you up and down one more time, almost like he was genuinely trying to figure out what his own mind was trying to remind him, before he nodded his head at you with a small smirk and a toothpick between his lips and left just as quickly as he came. And then your friend was taking his place, jabbering on about something as you tried to clear your own head.

You never wanted to be one of those people that lived in the past, and for the most part, you weren’t. You lived in the moment. You loved to make new memories, find new things to do, and meet new people. You loved meeting new people. However, the problem with meeting new people, especially men, was that there was that one guy from that one specific relationship that you had gotten yourself in that made it feel like everything was all for nothing.

Bradley Bradshaw.

You didn’t even know exactly what it was. You had been in plenty of summer flings that were passionate and fun, but you got over them easily enough. You had met so many people, loved and lost, and they all stuck with you in different ways that all felt sweet in one way or another. But Bradley? There was something about him that stayed with you in a different way. The thought of him kept a lingering taste of something distinct on your tongue.

In a way, he was the biggest waste of time you had ever spent your life on. There were two years that you shared being officially together, but it felt like forever. You should have known he was trouble the second you saw that military-grade mustache, and the confident walk he always had. You should’ve known he would cause you some pain the second his eyes and his smile proved to be a deadly combo. You poured so much love into that man in a short time in the grand scheme of things, and looking back, it was as much of a waste as it was a privilege.

For a while, you prayed for his return. He had broken your heart right before he left for his deployment, but that didn’t mean that you wanted anything to happen to him. You prayed for a while for him to come back safely and then come right back to you, and then that progressed into you praying to never see him again. You wished for his safety, you always would, but you never wanted to hear anything about him ever again unless it was saying that he landed safely back on US soil. After that, you wanted his name to be gone with the wind and buried with the dust of time.

Either way, he was in your thoughts forever and always, regardless of how many summers passed or how many people there were after him, how many you had met to pass the time. And as you stood in the middle of the bar with Alexandra, you were frozen in shock as you realized that you probably manifested the very fighter pilot in front of you.

He had seen you first. He was surrounded by attractive people in uniforms that you knew had to be his friends, and when you caught the eyes of the very blond man that you fell over before pointing at you with the angle of his head, your jaw dropped a bit. The man from earlier looked at you and slapped Bradley on his back, giving a blinding smirk before saying something to him that you couldn’t hear.

You were sure you looked silly standing there, freezing up the second you recognized him with a pool stick in your hand. You felt all the tension in your body work together to keep you as straight as a board. You blinked when your friend nudged you, completely oblivious to the mini panic attack you were about to have, and you swallowed and looked away like it didn’t nearly hurt you to stop looking at him.

You felt like you were drowning.

“You’re not tapping out or anything, right?” Alexandra asked, narrowing her eyes at you. “We’ve barely been here an hour, and you already have that uncomfortable look on your face.”

“What look?” You managed to murmur, completely aware that he was still looking at you. His gaze felt as familiar as it had back then.

“The one where you’re looking for escape routes,” she teased, even though she was starting to look concerned. “You do it all the time. Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah!” You said, way too loud to be normal. “I’m good.”

You prayed he didn’t approach you. He had plenty of distractions on his side of the room, lots of friends to talk to even though it was obvious they were trying to get him to go over to you. You were hoping that he would never come up to you or look your way again, but you were sick to your stomach when you realized that him walking away would mean he didn’t care nearly as much as you did.

You closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to understand that none of what you were seeing was a dream.

“Hi!” A woman’s voice from behind you said, and you turned around. You saw a woman in uniform smiling politely at both you and Alex, and you assumed that she knew her, but then her attention was on you. “I’m sorry, I just had to come over and say I love your dress.”

You were a simple creature, and one of your fatal flaws was that you were exceptionally friendly. That easily, the tension left your body as you spoke to the woman. You smiled kindly at her. “Thank you! I got it at a thrift store, but you can check the back to see where it’s from if you want!” She grinned at you, and then you saw her eyes wander to your hand.

“Oh, your ring is pretty, too!” The woman said. “When’s the wedding?” She joked, and you laughed. You wanted a big wedding, back then. Back when you could see the groom in your head, imagine the words he would say, and even imagine your first name combined with his last: Bradshaw. But that was nothing now.

“Thank you! You’re so sweet. It’s from my mom though, she gave it to me a few years ago.” She gave it to you, her big, shiny ring that her first husband had bought her just as a gift. Instead of pawning it, you begged her to have it. It had no sentimental value to you at all. It kind of looked like an engagement ring, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off. It warded off men for the most part, and it was a piece of her.

“Aw, that’s so sweet. I’m Nat! Most people around here call me Phoenix.”

You grinned at her and shook her hand before telling her your name, and you knew right then that you liked her. She was extroverted, but very polite. Just your type of person.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too!” She smiled at you before she continued her walk to the bar, and you didn’t think anything else of the nice girl in uniform.

The next few minutes went without any issues at all, and you felt like you could ignore the situation at hand and have a good rest of the night with Alex before it was time for you guys to head home.

“Hey.”

You weren’t hearing his voice. You just weren’t. You made your next shot in the game and ignored him.

You could feel him get closer to you, so close you could smell his cologne. Your eyes watered when you realized it was the very scent you picked out for him all those years ago. He still wore it.

You heard a very manly throat clear from beside you, and you realized that he wasn’t going to give it up. “Hi,” he tried again, and you breathed through your nose and finally turned around, looking face to chest at him before you looked up.

He was smiling down at you. He was smiling down at you as if nothing had happened, and no time had passed. You smiled back at first like muscle memory, but then your face dropped to a frown almost immediately. His smile fell, too. He nodded at your friend in acknowledgement, but she was too busy eyeing him up and trying to decide if he was a threat to you or the night to know that he was being friendly.

“Bradshaw,” you said, and his frown got deeper when he realized you called him by his last name. He hated that. You weren’t in the Navy and you had been together, you and he always insisted you reserved the rights to using his real name. Not his call sign, not his last name, but the one his parents had given him. “It’s been a while.”

“Bradley,” he corrected gently, almost like he thought you genuinely forgot, or like you threw out his first name from your personal dictionary. As if you could ever forget a detail about him. That was the blessing and the curse that he left you with. “You look-” he stopped talking for a moment, and you could have sworn that you saw an ocean of fondness in his pretty eyes that shouldn’t have still been there. “You’re still so beautiful.”

Your words felt caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him that his tan made him look beautiful. You wanted to say that he had filled out so nicely, and that his scars still fit his face perfectly. You remembered kissing them while laying in the summer sun and you remembered kissing them under the tiny Christmas tree you guys had bought together and plugged in. You were both so broke it only had about ten ornaments on it, but that never mattered. Never to the two of you. “You… still have that mustache.”

“You always liked it,” he said, a small smile coming back into his expression, but you didn’t give one back.

“So you’ve kept it growing in hopes to run into me?”

“Maybe I have,” he answered, and you blinked at him. He had always had a flirty personality.

You just blinked. “Uh, yeah. That’s nice.” Was it? It was opening every old wound you had ever had. Every wound that was partially healed by another person’s fleeting kisses was being torn right back open by one sighting of Bradley Bradshaw.

“It’s- it’s amazing to see you, how have you been?”

You were becoming more and more confused. How in the hell was he being so chipper? Maybe chipper wasn’t the word, he was being polite. Or, maybe it was that he wasn’t falling apart like you were. How? How was he managing politeness when you were hardly breathing? The thought that he would walk away from the conversation like it never happened made you irritable and defensive at the same time. “Why do you care?”

His brows furrowed, and he was looking at you as if you were saying all the wrong things. “Because I care how you’ve been.”

“Why?”

He took a look at your friend, who was still staring him down. “Uh, can we talk for a second?” He asked, and you pursed your lips together.

“No, she’s good right here,” Alexandra said, and you gave her a small smile.

“No, it’s okay, he’s fine. He’s big, but he’s harmless.” You saw his chest puff up in just the slightest at the mention of his physique, and you rolled your eyes. “We can step outside, but I’m not going home with you.”

“Okay!” He said, a little too loud for the setting, and you fought back a smile at how excited he was just to talk. You squashed the fondness down. “Okay, uh, come with me.”

The second your foot hit the gravel outside, his fingers were touching yours. The touch was innocent, but you still yanked your hand away. He backed away understandingly. “Force of habit, sorry.”

And it was. You remembered his little quirks. You were always pretty independent, and he had always been touchy and protective, so the compromise back then was that he would lay off while you were inside of a building, but he would hold your hand and guide you all he wanted to the second you walked outside.

“I- uh, I wanted to talk about us.”

“The past?” You said, crossing your arms.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” he said slowly, like he was just then realizing he was treading on very thin ice.

“We knew each other,” you corrected, fully aware of your friend piecing the situation together by the expression on her face, and you gave her a look that held promises of filling her in.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, coming a little closer, and you felt your eyes burn when you smelled his familiar scent even more. Your tradition of buying men cologne that matched their personalities had died after Bradley. It was something you didn’t really understand why you did it yourself, but it was fun, and Bradley loved it. He was the fourth guy you had done it with, and he was the last. It just didn’t feel right with anyone else, and it was simply something else you kissed goodbye when you and Bradley went your separate ways.

“I’m not being any certain way.”

“I would definitely say that we know each other,” he said, a short chuckle dying on his lips, and you could hear the hurt in his voice. “We were together nearly every day for two years. We’d sit on the river and on the beach and talk about everything for hours. We road-tripped cross-country. I remember everything you ever told me back home, and I remember the last summer we had together like it was yesterday.”

You looked back up at him with eyes that you knew had to be full of sadness. “That was four summers ago.”

You saw it set in with him how much time really had gone by. You watched his eyes widen and his lips poke outwards as he breathed out. “Wow.”

Had time really not passed for him as slowly as it did to you?

All you could do was swallow and turn your head away from the breeze. “Yeah.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

Part of you was so thrown by his question and his lack of tact, especially because he had been such a good flirt back then. Maybe time had changed him. “I’m married.”

Immediately, he shook his head with a small smile. “You’re not.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, even though you were enjoying the back and forth. It felt so familiar. “How would you know that?”

“That was the first thing I checked before I came over,” he admitted, and you cocked your head at him. “I looked at your finger and saw the ring before you even noticed me. And then I asked Phoenix to go over to you and make sure it was what I thought it was, and I was right.”

You gasped. You should have known that that stupid nickname was a damn callsign, the glaring beacon of a person that meant that they were a pilot. And pilots were… they were hard to love.

“I knew that if I came over to you, there would be no way I could hold my tongue from trying to win you back, so I had to make sure you weren’t married first, at least. But I’m not even sure that would’ve stopped me,” he muttered under his breath, and you rolled your eyes.

You were still a little bitter over him sending one of his friends to talk to you, and how well he knew you. He knew you never would have responded to a random man the same way you did Phoenix. “How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend?”

“I’m praying.” And then he sighed. “I don’t have anyone either.”

You would have laughed in his face if you weren’t so gutted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Considering you broke it off so you could run around and meet other girls, I would be very shocked if you didn’t have one with a ring on her finger by now.”

His eyes widened to a size that was almost comical. “What?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Before you deployed. You know, when you broke up with me so that you could go talk freely with other women.”

His facial expression was so shocked that you almost bought it. He looked genuinely thrown in a loop by your words. “I didn’t break up with you to meet other people, Bee.”

You nearly caught whiplash at hearing your old nickname pouring like straight up honey from his mouth. No one called you that in a long time, mostly because ‘Bee’ was reserved for Bradley after a day he met you in freshman year of college, and you did an entire presentation on conservation of bees with passion that none of the other students had in their slideshows. It was what had drawn him to you in the first place.

“That’s what it felt like.” It still felt like that, four years later.

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head slowly. You hated how handsome he looked even when he was confused. But he had no right to look confused. “That’s not what happened at all.”

Your tone said it all for you as you crossed your arms. “Um, that’s what I remember, Bradshaw.”

He ignored what you called him, but you saw it in his eyes that it still bothered him. “I cut it off because I felt awful that you were going to be forced to wait for me,” he said, taking a step closer, and you saw his sad brown eyes begging you to listen. “We were still so young, you were even younger than me. It wasn’t fair for me to ask you to keep waiting for me, especially because I kept going on dangerous deployments.”

His words were bouncing around in your head. You calculated what he was saying, narrowing your eyes and trying to make sense of how it was changing your entire perspective of what happened, second by second.

“Are you fucking stupid?” You blurted, but he wasn’t surprised. In fact, he looked relieved. You never really made a habit of swearing, not even while arguing, but when you rarely let a word slip, it meant that you cared a lot.

Bradley wasn’t quite sure which way you cared and if it was in a good way or a bad way, but he was determined to change the passion to a way that would benefit the both of you.

“If you want me to be,” he rasped, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Did you just say you didn’t want me to wait for you?”

He blinked. “Yeah. You were what, twenty three? Your whole life was ahead of you. It wasn’t fair for you to have to wait for me to come home when you… you’re full of so much life. You had just gotten your dream job at the hospital, and you were so happy. If you were to stick it out with me gone, you would just have to decide between your job and me anyway when I got home. I ended up getting stationed somewhere else not too long after I came back home, just like I knew I would.”

“Bradley, I told you I wanted to travel, anyway. That job was not my forever job.”

“But-”

“I was prepared to wait for- for forever.” It was his turn to look shocked. “I really would have, Bradley. You just never even gave me the chance to. You pulled the rug out underneath me. You didn’t even ask me.”

He ran a hand over his face as the weight of the decision he made for the both of you settled heavy on his chest. “Oh, god.”

“I assumed you were deploying and you wanted to meet new people. I mean, I know that a lot of… you guys are cheaters. The stereotypes are true a lot of the time. I just figured you were sparing me from the cheating and cutting it off before it could get to that point.”

“Oh, god, no.” He shook his head. “You- thought I was cheating on you?”

“Well- what else was I supposed to think?”

“I would never,” he said, using his hands to make a broad “no” gesture. “You’ve always been it for me, ever since we met. There couldn’t have been anyone else, and there hasn’t been this whole time.”

You tried to mask the way you were falling into a puddle at his feet. “You’re so dumb.”

“Is it dumb of me to think you’ll hear me out a little more?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but your skin felt like it was on fire being so close to him again. “You’re plenty dumb, Rooster.”

“You never called me Rooster.”

“Well, I don’t know Bradley anymore.”

“I- why are you saying that?” He asked, and his face grew even more distraught. “You do know me. Nothing’s changed. Nothing is different at all besides the time. I still- there’s nothing that has changed about the way I feel for you.”

“What do you want me to say?” You couldn’t confess your love to him again. You loved him, a part of you always would, but you couldn’t handle him coming out of the blue and telling you everything you had secretly been wishing he would say to you for years. He was coming in like a dream. It was far too good to be true. “We got lost in translation four years ago and there's nothing we can do about it. Unless you and your pilot friends have been smart enough to build a time machine.”

“I would build a thousand time machines if it meant that I could change what I did, I was stupid. I was so stupid.” He stepped closer. “But I never stopped loving you. Not even once.”

A tear ran down your face, and that’s when you knew it was time to go find Alexandra again. “I-I gotta go, Bradley.” Before you could even turn around all the way, he took you by your hips and turned you back around, both pairs of your eyes wide mirrors of the other.

“I have been haunted by the thought of you for four years now,” he said, voice as soft and gentle as the breeze, but the grip he had on your hips was so desperate it almost made you sob. “I haven’t even- I’ve tried, but there hasn’t been anyone else. Not emotionally. Not even close, Bee.”

You couldn’t say the exact same. You tried and succeeded for a time, but they were never complete fixes. Just when you thought you were happy with someone else and free of the clutches of Bradley Bradshaw, he snuck right back. He ripped that rug out from under you every time without fail without even being present. That was your problem with each “relationship”, you were looking for a remedy and closure for a relationship that the next person had no idea about and no obligation to make better.

But you had definitely been haunted by the lack of Bradley Bradshaw. He was there all the time with you in your mind, whether you wanted him or not.

“This,” you said, shaking your head, and judging by the look on his face, he knew he was losing you. “This is a lot.”

“Wait, don’t walk away. I just got you back.”

“I’m not back, Bradley.”

“You’re back in front of me,” he said, and you stopped turning away from him. “That’s all I could ask for. Even if you want nothing else to do with me ever again, I just want to stand here and look at you for one more minute. Please.”

You put your hands over your face the second you felt your eyes start to burn and overflow with tears. You could feel his energy before you even felt his true touch, and the second you felt his arms around you, you broke down.

“I thought- I thought you were so nervous a few days before you left because you were going to propose to me.”

You couldn’t believe the words that were leaving your mouth. You had been so humiliated about jumping to conclusions that you hadn’t even told Alexandra about that part. You never planned on telling anyone that was the reason why you were so hurt, especially not the man who caused you all that pain. It had been sitting heavy on your chest, the humiliation and the sadness alike, for all four summers. You never planned on letting it loose.

But you had already said it.

“You boys get married so fast, and honestly, I was ready. I thought you were nervous because you were going to ask me to marry you, not because you were breaking up with me.”

“Oh.”

“It gutted me so bad when you broke it off. I thought it was going to be the opposite- I thought we were going to start our lives together and then you just…” you looked down at the ground as you tried to swallow back down the memory, even though everything was coming back so strong. “It was gone, that fast. And I realized I loved you a lot more than you ever loved me, obviously.”

“That's not even close to being true,” he said, shaking his head rapidly. “You can ask any of the guys I shipped out with. I was fucking miserable the whole time. And I know you don’t know the new guys I’m with, but this new squad even knows that there’s nobody else. You’re the one that got away.”

“You let me go,” you corrected, and he smiled sadly.

“Because I loved you.”

“That’s so fucking dumb,” you said, but you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him. “That’s for fairytales, stupid.”

You felt yourself leaning into him, and he was letting you. His body language was inviting you in. You could see it in his eyes and you could feel his hands trembling as he moved them from your waist to hover over your back, like he was ready to pull you into him the second you gave in. You knew it was only a matter of time before you did give in, and the longer you felt his hands hover over you like you were stained glass, the more you craved his familiar, burning touch. You felt the pull to him like you were magnets. Like he was the sun and you were Icarus. You were the moth to his enticing flame, but he had always seen you as a butterfly. You were terrified to get burned for the second time, and fall from grace all over again.

“That one pilot said he recognized me,” you blurted, and you felt his eyes on you even though you couldn’t look at him. “I’ve never met him before, have I?” You might have. You used to know a lot of his old friends. He shook his head. “How did he know me?”

Without hesitation, his answer came. “I have pictures of you in my cockpit.”

That was what threw you. “What?”

“Most pilots keep photos of important people in their cockpit. It reminds them to fly safer. In the worst cases, it’s so that they can see a glimpse of family before they go down.”

Your heart was soaring so high that it was breaking with the pressure of it. “You have a picture of me in there?”

He had absolutely no shame about it as he nodded his head firmly. “Yeah, I have pictures of you. In my cockpit and in my locker.” Were you his screensaver, too? You didn’t know.

But you were in his locker. It made your heart flutter and it sent you right back to highschool. “More than one?”

“I have so many that my squad recognized you without me even saying anything. Hangman was the one who told me you were here.”

“Oh.”

He kicked the rocks underneath his foot, and then he was squinting back down at you. “You thought- you thought I was going to ask you to marry me?”

Just like that, your soaring, cracking heart plummeted again. “You don’t have to rub it in, Bradley.”

“No, it’s not that at all. I just- you would’ve said yes?”

“Of course I would have said yes, stupid.” You ignored how his eyes lit up and turned your body away with crossed arms. He was always so expressive, even when he didn’t want to be. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Not too long,” he rushed, and you shook your head.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, especially because it was mostly to get the tears away. “It was a while ago, Bradley.”

“There’s no amount of time apart that would make me not want to be with you, Bee.”

Your head swiveled to him upon hearing your nickname from him again. “It- it doesn’t just work like that, dude.”

“Why not?”

“We were stupid back then. We lived off of blind faith and a whole lot of hopes. It doesn’t work that way anymore.”

“We make our own rules, that’s the glory of being adults.” He took your hands and you faced him, and the hope in his expression nearly floored you. “Who said we can’t pick up where we left off?”

You scoffed, even though you weren’t even close to laughing. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you, but you’ve always known that,” he said with a smile. “You’ve always known how to work with it, too.”

For a moment, you felt a glimmer of hope and you felt the whisper of a smile come onto your face. And then you crashed again, and he must have seen it all over your face because his own smile went away and was replaced by concern. Before he could even ask what happened that fast, you threw your face into his chest and wrapped your arms around him.

He held you back just as quickly, and you knew he had been waiting for you. He smelled like home and he even felt like it, and when you opened your eyes all you could see was that stupid, loud Hawaiian print.

“I-if we do this again you- I can’t handle it if you leave me again. I couldn’t take it. Please, Bradley.”

“Don’t you even worry about that,” he said firmly, holding you so close that it felt like the two of you were physically molding together. “If you give me the chance, I want a shot at forever.”

You pulled your wet face away from his shirt and looked up at him as your heart raced in your chest. “Huh?”

He stared down at you for a moment, and you could see in his ever-expressive eyes that he was thinking about saying something to you that was about to change everything. “I fully intend to become your husband when we’re ready, if you let me. Just the way you wanted, and the way I’ve always dreamed about. I’m not going anywhere.”

The logical part of you knew that he was being ridiculous. Bradley was nothing if not overzealous, nothing if not reaching for goals that were just short of being unattainable. He was the version of Icarus that always managed to get back to earth safely by the skin of his teeth. He always put the cart before the horse, but somehow he always managed to get there.

So, you knew he was being serious. As crazy as he sounded, he was.

“Do you really mean that?” You didn’t have to ask that question. In fact, the words felt like acid on your tongue, but your heart pressed you to ask it anyway.

“Nothing could get me to leave you again, especially not my own stupidity.” He was holding you even tighter. “I promise.”

You were going to hold him to that with the same intensity that he held you with.

*****

oh boy.

so this one i’ve been sitting on forever and i’m tired of looking at it, but i have nothing but love for this fic that is pulling me out of a writing slump. i wrote it out of pure love for rooster though so i felt like i had to share it!! also- this comes from two main things;

two songs (“7 summers” and “ ‘98 braves” by morgan wallen) and then me being dumb enough to get involved with a military man of my own. he’s been gone for a while so i’m manifesting he comes back soon. anyone who is thinking about getting with a person- especially man- in the military (i can only speak for the united states military bc that’s where i’m from), you better be tough. i know they look good. i know they have this energy to them- trust me i’ve been obsessed since i was like 15. way before top gun maverick. but if you’re gonna be stupid, you better be tough 💀💀💀 and if you need any guidance to being stupid, i’m always here!!!

if you’re new here thanks for stopping by and checking it out! if you’re from an old fandom of mine but read it anyways i love you so much, it means a lot. 💕💕💕

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #tgm #rooster x reader #my fics #bradley bradshaw x reader #heaven help me why am i writing again #lys’s fics #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff

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