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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 month

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A Duet of Fire and Fate

Part One | Series Masterlist

Summary: his music school having been challenged by Riverrun Conservatory, Aemond is given the opportunity to come face to face with their top musician | Word Count: 4.7k~ | Warnings: smut (not with the main female character), toxic relationship, semi-public sex

Nothing quite compared to the low hum, and delicate whine of a cello. It had been that way for some time, ever since he'd discovered it.

Aemond still remembers the look on his mother's face, her chocolate eyes wide with pride and joy, when her son who was still freshly mutilated, resulting in the loss of sight in his left eye, took an interest in playing classical music.

The cello had become more than just an instrument to Aemond; it was his refuge, his voice in a world that had grown suddenly more silent and unforgiving. The accident had not just taken half his sight but had cast a shadow over his once bright future. Music, however, brought light back into his life, offering a path forward that he had never anticipated.

The Targaryen name, synonymous with power and prestige in other realms, here lent an aura of intrigue and expectation to his performances. Yet, it was Aemond's own skill, the raw emotion he channelled through the strings of his cello, that captivated audiences. His music was a blend of classical elegance and a palpable intensity that seemed to stem from the very depths of his being.

And Aemond was nothing if not a perfectionist at heart.

He perfected everything, to the point of madness some felt. And if he had not invited a feeling of deep, primal intrigue from every performance he gave, then what was the point? This innocent hobby at first, honed by his parents and caregivers alike, was now a way of life. A career. Something to strive for.

As he became older, this competitive nature never wavered once. He embraced it like a challenge to be met. And the conductor of this prestigious school, Otto Hightower, both a friend of his father, Viserys, a business giant well-known across all of Westeros, and conveniently his grandfather, expected nothing short of the best from his prodigious grandson.

He was never self-conscious either, even if he was easily noticeable and stared upon everywhere he went. And one might expect little attention from the opposite sex in a world of classical music and elegant instruments, but for Aemond this could not have been less true.

He attracted in every show, not only with his talent but with his haunting appearance. The straight long scar through his left eye was struck in the middle by a pale blue pupil, his other seeing eye stark in comparison. Women would watch his slender fingers strike fear, passion and energy into their hearts, wishing the very same could grip at their skin.

To their frustrations, he never acted on this popularity.

Alys Rivers was the only woman he ever reciprocated affections of some kind for. At least two decades his senior, his family had been less than impressed at her presence in his life. But there was no choice on their part. Aemond had made his, and Alys Rivers, like it or not, was his muse. A classical music lover at heart. And a professional critic no less.

One might be forgiven for thinking they disliked each other, they rarely exhibited romance. She was more akin to his manager than anyone else, critiquing his manner of playing and giving advice where he didn't want it. And he rewarded her, away from the prying eyes of the public, with quick, angry sex, exerting what control he did have, into intimacy.

She, like him, had a haunting presence to her, but one less mysterious. More overtly seductive. And though sometimes it seemed to irk Aemond, some felt as if they were still acquainted by convenience if nothing else.

Aemond always arrived early to Kings Landing Music College. The stuffy, wood-panelled room gave some semblance of comfort. There was something about the acoustics, the closeness, that felt almost womb-like. Safe. Familiar.

Meticulously, tuning his cello, he half-listened to the skinny, pink-faced Blackwood, practicing at the same time, “sound like a fucking dying pig.”

“Half dying,” Aemond murmured, with a roll of his eyes.

Otto waltzed in, clad in black slacks and a loose forest-green jumper, “Blackwood, get your fucking instrument in tune please. Fucking Cole could do a better job in violas.”

Criston twirled two Timpani sticks between his fingers, giving a look of mock offence from across the room, “just because I'm over here doesn't mean I can't hear you-”

“Alright, alright, before we begin today’s practice, I have an announcement,” Otto declared, his voice commanding attention. The room quickly fell silent, the anticipation palpable in the air.

“We’ve been challenged to a competition by the Riverrun Conservatory,” Otto revealed, his eyes sweeping across the room, measuring the reaction to his words. The announcement ignited a buzz among the musicians, the rivalry between the schools notorious for its intensity.

“This isn’t just any friendly showcase. It’s a direct confrontation on neutral ground at the upcoming city arts festival. We will be judged on technique, emotional expression, and the complexity of our performance.”

Aemond’s pulse quickened. Riverrun Conservatory had a formidable reputation, known for their strict discipline and innovative performances. The thought of competing against them stirred a mix of excitement and nerve.

Otto’s gaze swept over the room, lingering for a moment on Aemond, then moving on. “I want crispness, I want emotion, and above all, I want precision. We will begin selecting the repertoire tomorrow. Today, I want everyone to focus on their sections. I expect perfection and I will accept nothing less than your best.”

With a decisive turn, Otto left the rehearsal space, his footsteps echoing his determination. The room erupted into whispers and hurried discussions; the stakes had been set.

Blackwood sighed, stress gnawing and weighing on his face. “Fuck me, no pressure then.”

“Don't fucking shit yourself. It's only Riverrun,” a lanky guy mumbled behind his flute.

“Shut your fucking mouth!”

Aemond tuned his cello once more, a determined glint in his eye. He was eager to prove himself, not just as a formidable cellist, but as a key player in leading his school to victory. As the rehearsal began, the sounds of strings, woodwinds, and brass filled the room, each musician pouring their heart into the notes.

Aemond knew that every session, every note, would count. The festival was not just another performance; it was a proving ground. And he was ready to claim his place on it.

With his cello perched on his back as if it were an extension of himself, Aemond strode toward Otto’s office. The familiar weight of the instrument reassured him, steadying his nerves as he prepared to discuss the imminent arrival of their rivals from Riverrun Conservatory.

Upon reaching the heavy oak door, Aemond knocked with a confident rhythm and was quickly greeted by Otto, who peered out from behind a mountain of musical scores. His deep-set eyes and beard, more salt than pepper, gave him an air of aged wisdom.

"Aemond, what's the matter?" Otto asked, noticing the urgency in Aemond's posture.

Stepping inside, Aemond carefully leaned his cello against the wall. "I've heard that Riverrun will be arriving tomorrow to practise here, in preparation for the festival. They’ll be using some of our facilities. I wanted to discuss how we can use this to our advantage, especially since their star pianist is said to be among them."

Otto raised an eyebrow, a slight grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Perhaps he saw the cunning nature reflected in his grandson he perceived in himself.

"Indeed, they will be here. It’s a rare opportunity to observe them up close, to learn their strengths and possibly their weaknesses. We’ve managed to arrange different practice times to ensure there’s no direct overlap, but our paths will certainly cross."

Aemond nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. "If we could subtly observe their practice sessions, we might glean insights into their preparation and techniques. It could inform our strategy and help us focus our rehearsals where we need the most work."

Otto walked over to his desk and shuffled some papers, revealing a schedule. "Here are the timings. Riverrun’s sessions are slotted just after ours in the adjacent rooms. It’s crucial we keep our interactions professional, but keep your eyes and ears open. Understand how their pianist integrates with their ensemble— it’s not just about her solo performance."

"Should we consider adjusting our pieces or rehearsal focus based on what we learn?" Aemond asked, his voice low.

"Potentially," Otto responded, tapping his fingers on the desk. "But let’s not be hasty. First, observe. See if there’s a particular piece they struggle with or excel in. We’ll adjust our strategy based on solid evidence, not assumptions."

Aemond felt a surge of tactical excitement. "I’ll make sure our section leaders are discreet but observant. We can use this chance to refine our performance to outshine theirs."

"Exactly," Otto agreed, handing Aemond a copy of the schedule. "Use this opportunity wisely. We need every edge we can get against Riverrun. Remember, they are guests in our school, so maintain the highest standards of respect and professionalism at all times."

With a firm nod, Aemond picked up his cello, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. As he left Otto’s office, he knew the next few days could define the outcome of the festival. The challenge was daunting, but Aemond was ready to lead his school not just to compete, but to win.

Aemond was barely through the front door of his apartment before Alys was barraging him with questions. Her fine lips were lacquered with red, fingernails painted a charcoal black as she poured herself a coffee.

“I heard about the competition. Riverrun is notorious. Sure you can handle it?” She smirked behind the rim of her cup.

He sighed, setting down his cello, “yes, I can fucking handle it.” That was his only response before sinking into the sofa, laying his head flat back against the sofa, eyes shut, as if he wanted her to disappear.

He was somewhat ashamed to admit the way he tensed and then relaxed at the way her fingers expertly kneaded his shoulders, massaging the stress from him. But even more so as they trailed down, sharp nails ghosting over his neck had his lips parting and his trousers growing tight.

“Now, now. You know I only want you to do better,” she cooed, “and you will get better, with the right critique.”

He could hear her smile, her tone light and sensual as she trailed off.

Aemond turned his head and looked up at her where she was looming over him, her thumbs still pushing circles on his sore muscles.

“Critique?”

Alys’s lips curved up in a knowing smile, her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that seemed to pierce through his weariness. Her green, emerald like eyes, were like daggers, hooking and reeling him in somewhere dark.

"Of course, critique," she murmured, her voice a melodious blend of challenge and tease. "Every artist needs it, even the great Aemond Targaryen. Especially with Riverrun breathing down our necks."

She moved around the sofa with the grace of a cat, setting her coffee down on the table before moving her legs either side of him, brushing her clothed core beneath her skirt against his growing hardness. "I watch, I listen, and I provide feedback that no one else dares to give you."

Aemond sighed, shifting to look at her more directly. The red of her lips was stark against the softer hue of her face, a deliberate pop of colour that matched the sharpness in her words. "And how exactly does your 'feedback' help me tonight?" he asked, his tone a mix of scepticism and intrigue.

"It helps because it makes you think. It makes you feel. Isn't that what music is about?" Alys replied, her hands now moving down from his shoulders, her fingers tracing lines across his chest through his shirt. "Besides, seeing you tense up like that, only to melt under my touch—it tells me where you're holding back. Not just here," she said, pressing briefly into a particularly tight spot. Then, her touch sank to his belt, then drifting lower and stroking his growing erection, teasing his length slowly.

"But here too."

Her approach was intoxicating, a dangerous mix of personal care and professional critique. "You're brilliant, Aemond, but even brilliance can be polished," she continued, leaning in to whisper against his ear. "Let me polish you, make you shine brighter. Let me push you to be the best, and then push a little harder."

Aemond felt the dual edges of her influence—the softness of her caress, the hard truth in her critique. It was a manipulation he allowed, perhaps even welcomed. Her presence was woven into his life, a thread that was both comforting and controlling. Sometimes too tight.

With two needy hands on her buttocks, he rolled up her skirt around her hips, dipping between her welcoming thighs, his ego somewhat inflated to find she was wet already. Alys did little else in reaction than assisting to undo his belt, taking his hard length in her hand and seductively massaging from base to tip.

He pulled her forcefully against him, fingers dug into her pale skin as she hovered over him and sank slowly, splitting herself open on his cock with a practised moan. Her hips moved instinctually, stretching to accommodate his thickness over and over.

Between grunts and curses, Aemond was rarely vocal. Sex was a way to dispel frustration and invite inspiration in his clear head afterwards. Alys could be anyone. But he had to admit, he found her interesting, if not for her advice.

Her manicured and rounded nails dug into his neck as Alys moved on him with vigour, one hand stealing between them to circle her bud to try and hurtle herself towards completion.

It had occurred to Aemond that she was similarly using him in the same way.

With a bruising grip around her waist, Aemond jutted up into her shakily, coming hard within Alys’ quivering walls in the aftermath of her orgasm. And once she gained her breath, she peeled his hands off her as if he were suffocating. His member slid out of her, softened and slick with her moisture.

Alys straightened, stepping back to observe him, her eyes assessing as she wiggled her skirt back down. "Tomorrow, I'll come to the rehearsal. I want to see how you handle yourself with Riverrun watching. I'll be watching too, taking notes." Her tone was playful yet serious, a reminder of her dual role in his life.

As she retreated to the kitchen, Aemond lay there, a part of him resenting the ease with which she shifted roles from lover to critic, yet another part eager to prove himself worthy of her praise, his heart going fast still in the aftermath of their hastened sex.

He knew that Alys's critiques, though wrapped in seduction, were aimed at forging him into a sharper, more formidable musician. In the complex symphony of their relationship, her motives played out in chords, each note crafted to challenge and change him.

The next day dawned crisp and clear, the early morning sun casting long shadows over the grounds of the music school. The building was abuzz with the nervous energy of anticipation, the air vibrating with the undertones of an impending musical clash.

As he made his way through the corridors to the rehearsal room, he could hear the murmur of voices, the tuning of instruments, and the occasional burst of laughter or a sharp command. Today, the halls of his own school would play host not just to its students but also to their rivals from Riverrun Conservatory.

Aemond entered the rehearsal room to find it already half-filled with his peers, each one keenly aware of the significance of the day. The room was set up with chairs and stands arranged in a precise semi-circle, awaiting the arrival of the Riverrun musicians.

Before long, the members of Riverrun Conservatory began to filter in, their expressions a mix of confident smiles and cautious glances. The room's atmosphere thickened with the tangible sense of competition, each group eyeing the other, assessing and reassessing.

Amid this tense backdrop, Alys slipped into the room, a notepad clutched in her hand and a pen poised for action. Her presence was a sharp reminder to Aemond of the dual aspects of their relationship. She caught his eye and offered a slight nod, an unspoken signal that she was here in her professional capacity.

The rehearsal began with Otto taking the lead, his voice firm as he called for attention. "Let's begin with a warm-up. Remember, while we share our space today, let's show our guests the level of excellence we strive for."

Aemond took his place, settling his cello between his knees. His fingers danced over the strings, tuning with meticulous care, his gaze occasionally drifting to the Riverrun musicians who were setting up nearby. Among them, he noticed a young woman, stood between two other boys who looked over her at one another with smug smiles. They were most certainly either violinists or cellists. But the woman between them, he saw, had such delicate fingers, this had to be the pianist he had heard so much about.

All watched them perform with a sort of challenging, stoic expression, as if judging every movement, every chord and sound made. Every choice scrutinised. In the corner of his eye, between glances at the music, Aemond noticed Alys scribbling down notes.

And when their performance came to an end, Riverrun Conservatory clapped, alongside their conductor, Lyonel Strong. He was burly, red-cheeked, strict but well-meaning, as far as Aemond had heard. But the way he and Otto Hightower looked at one another was akin to some secret rivalry nobody else was privy to.

Alys slid up to Aemond’s side as he began to tidy his instrument away, her presence immediately electric. “See that man?” she whispered, nodding subtly towards Lyonel. “He conducts with his heart on his sleeve, not a metronome like Otto. That’s why they play with such passion. It’s infectious, captivating.”

Aemond nodded, absorbing her analysis. He knew of her critical acumen, but there was a personal edge to her voice now. “You sound almost admiring,” he observed, watching her closely.

Alys’s expression darkened slightly, her emerald eyes flitting back to Lyonel. “I might admire his style, but not the man. Not after everything.” She sighed, a sound more resigned than angry. “He might be the maestro of emotions, Aemond, but off that podium, he’s a different story.”

Aemond did not inquire further. If he was being truthful with himself, he didn't much care for Alys' personal grievances.

“Keep a close eye on their cellist,” Alys warned from the sidelines, watching Riverrun tune and start up their instruments for their own warm up.

As Riverrun began their performance, Aemond’s attention initially settled on the cellist, analysing his fluid technique and the rich emotion flowing from his strings. However, his focus soon drifted to the pianist, who was poised before her instrument like a painter in front of a blank canvas. Her movements were almost ethereal, feather-like, as her fingers danced across the keys, each note floating into the air with a delicate precision that seemed to transcend the mechanics of the piano itself.

The pianist's performance captivated Aemond, her connection with the music evident in the subtle sway of her body and the gentle closing of her eyes as she played. It was more than mere execution, it was an embodiment of the piece, a true manifestation of feeling and artistry.

Alys, standing beside Aemond, watched the pianist with a discerning eye. After a moment, she leaned closer to Aemond and whispered, "See how she plays? It’s like she’s not just striking notes, but weaving a spell. Each touch is thoughtful, precise yet so naturally expressive."

Aemond nodded, fully absorbed in the performance. He could see what Alys meant—the pianist wasn’t just playing, she was performing in a way that made the piano speak directly to the audience. It was an inspiring display of how technique served as the foundation for emotional expression.

"Her approach is impressive," Alys continued, her voice a mix of professional respect and genuine admiration. "That’s what we need to aim for, Aemond. It’s not just about the notes, but how you make them feel alive, how you connect them to the listener’s soul."

Watching the pianist, Aemond felt a surge of inspiration mixed with a competitive drive. He realised that this was the standard he needed to meet and exceed. The way the pianist’s performance resonated in the room, how it seemed to stir the hearts of all who listened, including his own—it set a clear benchmark.

As the piece drew to a close, and the final note lingered in the air, a hushed silence fell over the room before applause erupted. The pianist looked up, her expression serene, almost surprised by the intensity of the audience’s reaction.

Aemond clapped, his applause thoughtful, infused with a newfound respect and a burning motivation. He turned to Alys, a determined look in his eyes. "I see it now," he said. "But she's nothing special. Our pianist is just as good."

“Just as good isn't enough. We have to be better. We need to surpass them—to be so outstanding that Riverrun feels like just a prelude to our performance. They shouldn’t just be impressed by us; they should be overwhelmed."

Aemond’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he processed her words. He watched the pianist from Riverrun mingle with the crowd, her presence still resonating with the lingering notes of her performance.

The shy, timid prodigy. A story written a million times. He felt as if he saw right through her, and no way was that washing with him.

“Meet me in the supply room before lunch,” Alys whispered, turning on her heel before Aemond could reply. The swing of her hips as she moved towards the Riverrun musicians and indication of what she wanted from him. All she ever wanted from him.

Aemond merely watched on from the sidelines, arms crossed. Alys mingled with them all, shaking their hands and wishing them luck in the weeks of practice and competitiveness to come. And when she finally shook the hand of the pianist, his gaze flickered between his lover and the delicate frame of this stranger he had yet to know.

Everything about her was different to Alys. She wore sheer black tights, and sensible shoes. Her skirt was flowy and ended mid tight, covered only at the top by her high-necked top, also black. And it was here he recognised a similarity in her and Aemond's dress sense.

Alys on the other hand exuded sexuality. Tight fitting skirts and dresses, no tights and heels at least four inches high. And while Alys wore a sleek straight style, the pianist was loose and free, if not slightly frizzy.

He watched the two women talking animatedly. Alys no doubt congratulating her on how well she plays.

He'd never been in more need of a cigarette then right at this moment.

“I apologise for him, he’s usually more expressive on stage than off,” Alys joked lightly as they approached, teasing Aemond in her usual manner.

The pianist extended her hand to Aemond with a firm, confident grip that surprised him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve seen your performances online,” she stated, her tone straightforward, skipping the usual pleasantries. Her directness was refreshing yet unexpected.

Aemond took her hand, a bit taken aback by her assertiveness. “Thank you,” he responded, realising only after the words left his mouth that she hadn’t actually complimented his work, just acknowledged it. “Your performance today was quite remarkable.”

“Thank you,” she replied, nodding politely, her smile brief. There was no reciprocal flattery, no effusive praise—just a clear, concise acknowledgment.

Her straightforwardness intrigued Aemond. It was rare for him to encounter someone who didn’t engage in the typical exchange of mutual admiration among peers, especially when one had just praised the other. Her confidence and lack of concern for social niceties made him rethink the usual dance of compliments that often felt more obligatory than genuine.

Their exchange maintained a professional veneer, but Aemond felt a distinct chill in the air as the pianist held his gaze with an unyielding intensity.

“I'm interested. How do you prepare for a performance of this calibre?” She asked in a probing manner, clasping her hands behind her back. And when she swept her hair out her face, a dash of her perfume hit him, light and floral, he noted.

“I focus deeply on the composition's technical demands," he responded crisply, his voice carrying a cool, almost detached quality. "Emotional expression is secondary to flawless execution.”

She bit back a smile he noticed before she could hide it, “that is quite a disciplined approach.”

"It’s the only way to ensure a performance is beyond reproach," he stated flatly, eyes scanning the room. "Judges appreciate perfection.”

“And the audience?”

He shrugged, “whether they do or not, it doesn't change my approach.”

She nodded, leaving a long pause, as if laying a trap, “interesting,” she mused, "I always believed that connecting with the audience was the true measure of a performance’s success."

“Emotions are too subjective.”

Alys, sensing the growing tension, interjected with a light laugh. "Aemond here is all about the technicalities when it comes to music. He believes in precision over passion."

The pianist tilted her head slightly, considering his response with an analytical gaze before a playful glimmer appeared in her eyes. “Are all aspects of your life subject to such rules?” her tone light, but probing. “Musicians are usually branded as romantics, after all.”

Aemond's brow twitched, a subtle annoyance. “There is a time and a place. In a competition, it's about control. Discipline.”

She hummed, slightly amused, “how practical. Does it not get lonely, striving so often for perfection?”

He shrugs, “it doesn't matter. Wins are measurable, feelings not so.”

“Musicians are not remembered for their wins. They're remembered for the feelings they tease out of people.”

Aemond’s gaze held steady, impressed by her ability to intertwine light-hearted banter with serious debate. “Maybe so, but I’d rather be remembered for setting records than stirring hearts.”

There was a long pause, her eyes never leaving him as if trying to piece together a delicate and intricate puzzle. And she had to bite her lip to contain her smile, simmering frustration in his chest.

“Interesting,” she mused, releasing her lip from between her teeth.

She finally broke their intense gaze, stepping back slightly as she prepared to leave. "Thank you for the conversation, Aemond. It was... enlightening," she said, her tone serious and reflective. "I'll be interested to see how your focus on the technicalities plays out in the competition. Good luck."

With a formal nod, she turned and walked away, her demeanour composed and professional. Aemond watched her rejoin her group, the interaction leaving him with a lingering sense of disquiet. Her straightforward, no-nonsense approach had challenged his views subtly yet profoundly, pushing him to reconsider the balance between technique and emotion in his performances.

Something he'd considered very little.

And as he fucked out his frustrations with Alys in the supply room, pushing her front against the wall and plunging into the tight warmth and solitude she offered, the encounter had ignited a new sense of challenge within him, or perhaps it was a hint of doubt, unsettling the confidence he had always felt in his methodical approach to music.

The usual clarity with which he viewed his musical career was now clouded with questions, thanks to a simple yet impactful exchange. It was a confrontation of ideals that made him both wary and intrigued.

It was clear now that the competition had escalated to more than just notes and rhythms—it was a clash of philosophies, a duel of passion in dual meaning.

And he was prepared to meet it head on.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust @minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

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sanzaibian · 2 months

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Oh. You’re here once again.

What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?

To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.

I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !

See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !

I’m not supposed to become someone like this :

I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !

Or like that :

Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !

Or that guy :

His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !

Or even this guy !

… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !

Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !

However, today, it all changes.

Today, you will understand my plight.

Today, I’ll transform you for a change.

Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.

So, let us begin.

BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?

… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”

You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.

Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !

There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !

Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.

Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.

Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.

Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.

BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.

Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?

Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !

… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !

Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.

So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).

Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !

However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.

Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)

By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !

Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !

This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !

Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !

I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.

BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !

Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.

All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !

… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…

NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.

Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.

Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…

… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?

What are you holding out for me ?

...

I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.

================================================

By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !

#male transformation #male tf #jock tf #himbo tf #twink tf #racial tf #race change #latino tf #black tf #asian tf #straight to gay #gay to straight #inanimate tf #dumber tf #mental change #transformation #tf story #april fool's tf

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star-anise · 2 months

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It's been a hot minute since I looked at Canada's National Occupation Classification system. I learned about it when studying career counselling in grad school, and it's pretty useful in terms of job-hunting and getting information on what different types of jobs require and pay.

A friend asked me for advice about becoming a therapist so I went and looked. They redid it since I last visited, and oh man there are some chef's kiss decisions.

There are 9 top-level categories, with 1 being legislative and senior management, 5 being arts, culture, and sport, and 9 being manufacture and utilities. So I was looking for my old job's classification, which used to be 4153 - Family, marriage and other related counsellors. Knowing that made searching the government job bank really easy back in the day, because instead of searching "counsellor" "counselor" "psychotherapist" "mental health therapist" "clinical counsellor" etc etc etc to find them all, I just typed "4153" and hit enter.

Anyway, they redid the system and now that job is parked at 41301 - Therapists in counselling and related specialized therapies. Here's the tree to get there:

Cool cool cool. It's tidier, even if the occupations are still a bit messy. (When I dropped out of the field, the different counselling subdivisions were tapping their toes impatiently waiting for the provincial government to let them form their own professional regulatory college. Which still has not happened. Last week my shrink said he'd got an email from the College of Psychologists announcing that it would be gathering all the smaller counselling fields into its own downy breast instead. I have no idea what's happening anymore.)

Anyway. I scrolled down to another job I once worked and HAHA WHAT

Yes. There are only three sub-units of category 44:

Nannies:

In-home caregivers:

And,

Combat specialists

I find this grouping of professions hilarious, appropriate, and deeply validating. No notes. 🧑‍🍳👌💋

#staranise original #advice on therapisting #that was the job I still have a scar on my arm from #i badgered my supervisor to death to get that fucking gentle self-defense course because of now unsafe it felt sometimes #man that job broke me #only good thing about that year was my cat and nacho movie night with my roommates #here's to never having to live that year again #sláinte and amen

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andhumanslovedstories · 5 months

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hey here's another question that I've been thinking about for about a week with no particular breakthrough. I'm so much on the healthcare side that all my advice is on that side. Dude, I read academic articles for this and didn't come up with anything particularly useful. That's why I'm answering this publicly, so other people hopefully add something useful. (Also I know you said you're not looking for opioids. I'm gonna talk about opioids anyway they certainly affect perceptions of chronic pain. In your case, try making clear early on that you don't want opioids.)

I'll say some things that I've noticed from my work to maybe provide some insight into healthcare's side of the exchange. I'm not saying this is the way things should be, I'm giving advice based on how I see things are. I wish I could say this wasn't the case, but when there's a pain medication standoff, the two ways I've seen it work out best for a patient are:

A third party advocates for the patient. (like family, nurse, social worker, different specialist, patient advocate, etc)

Change in caregiver.

I don't like those as the top answers, but that's what I've seen and it's consistent with a lot of the accounts I encountered. There is also a third way that the pain medication standoff can quickly end in a patient's favor:

3. New evidence (new symptom, imaging, vital signs, lab test, etc) forces a reexamination of how we're thinking about the patient.

This is also the "oh shit they seem worse" method, but it can also be "we have gained new information that re-contextualizes the information we already knew." This is like hey the xray came back, your whole bone is dust, or hey your blood pressure is now significantly higher, or hey oops your appendix exploded.

In all three cases, something new happens to change the dynamic. This works for healthcare providers operating in good faith because someone comes in fresh and/or the new dynamic causes the healthcare team to do a new assessment and cost/benefit analysis with this updated information. This works for healthcare providers operating in bad faith because they are either removed from the situation or put in a position where giving pain medication is less onerous than not giving pain medication. I genuinely, genuinely believe far more healthcare employees are operating in good faith rather than bad faith, although the end results can look the same from the patient side. This means I think that far more people are swayed by additional information that makes pain management have more benefit and less cost.

I don't know how actionable any of this is from the patient side unfortunately. I don't love being like "my advice? wait till shift change, see if you can shake it up." Bring someone to the emergency department with you if you have someone available, preferably someone prepared to make a fuss on your behalf. If you don't have a third person, see if you can get one. Hospitals can have patient advocate as a job. If they aren't available, is there someone on your healthcare team that seems most sympathetic? Try asking them if they have any advice. They might be able to give you some, they might advocate for you. Be careful about badmouthing staff to other staff and avoid compliments to one member of the team that relies on insulting another member. You don't know the relationships at play, and it's sort of like how you shouldn't trash talk your old job when interviewing for a new job. You may be completely right in everything you're saying, but being like "my boss was a crazy asshole who refused to recognize my work," doesn't come off as objective. It can undercut your credibility and introduce hostility into the conversation where it is not productive.

I'd also be prepared to talk about what you already tried to relieve the pain. Again, with you I'd mention upfront that you don't want opioids because they don't work for you. Then say what you have already tried at home before you came in (tylenol, ibpurofen, heating, ice, exercises, stretching, shower, other meds, etc) and the effect of both the pain (can't sleep, makes you nauseated, had to call off sick from work, aren't able to be a caregiver to someone, etc) and your already attempted interventions (no significant pain control, symptoms got worse, called PCP, they said emergency was the next step, etc). If your condition is chronic, compare it on the pain scale and the functionality scale to your baseline. (i.e. "I'm always at least a 3 out of ten on the pain scale, but it doesn't usually leave me bedbound." "Normally Symptom improves after Intervention At Home, but that didn't work this time.") Something that can make providers hesitant is if opioids, benzos, or other powerful drugs are the first and only thing a patient says will help and they're unwilling to try anything else, so sometimes demonstrating flexibility with your pain plan can signal "I'm not here for oxy to sell, I'm here because I want my symptoms to stop (and, if relevant, figure out what is causing them)."

Also if you can and feel safe doing so, consider providing feedback to the hospital. Nothing changes without something documented.

#nursing tag #please ppl on more pt and ed side feel free to weigh in #sorry if any of this seems condescending or super obvious like 'yeah obviously i do that already'#me: don't know what to say :/#also me: six billion word reply

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leossmoonn · 7 months

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dilf | mike schmidt

summary - mike as a dad

warnings / includes - reader is fem. otherwise fluff :D (also there’s so much background and plot like sorry not sorry lol I really like to ramble)

————

if there’s another fnaf movie… mike needs to be a dad. i know that’s not the plot at all and wouldn’t make sense, but i think the box office would benefit from that!

mike is already kind of a dad. he’s been raising abby for a few years now. he wouldn’t consider himself any type of caregiver because well, he thinks he’s quite terrible. and the term ‘brother’ is so much less daunting than ‘dad’. so when you two found out you were pregnant, he felt more fear than excitement. it wasn’t a surprise really. you two hadn’t been using condoms as regularly, but he was more stunned that now he was going to be a father and he was terrified.

regardless of how he felt, he supported you in every way possible during pregnancy. he was literally perfect. dude did the bare minimum and more! every day he would ask what you wanted to eat each day, no matter how weird the cravings were, and he would try his best to honor them. he gave you massages, went on walks with you, talked to the baby, went on doctor appointments with you — he even scheduled extra ones when you weren’t feeling well because he was so scared of you or the baby dying or something.

and after the whole freddy’s pizzeria fiasco — glad you weren’t pregnant during that lmao — he was able to get a job as a sales associate and become a manager with the help of him taking some online college courses. (you definitely helped with convincing him he was good enough to go back). abby was making new friends at her school and even helping you out when you were pregnant: making desserts for you, giving you advice on baby clothes, already making plans with the baby to play house or dress up. things were looking up.

until you give birth.

now, as we mentioned, mikey poo was a little nervous when he found out you were pregnant. and things went so well with your pregnancy, he kind of forgot to think about what it was actually going to be like when the baby was here. he was about to shit his pants fr while you were giving birth. but then they put the baby in your arms and everything just came together for him. cliché to say, i know, but it’s real!!!! and god, when he finally got to hold his baby, he was wrapped around her little finger. (i’d like to think he’s a girl dad — we already kind of see that with abby). she has mike’s big brown eyes and your cute nose. she looks exactly like a mix between the two of you.

for the first few months, mike was more focused on you than the baby. don’t get me wrong! he’s great father, but he just had that mindset that everyone wanted to take care of the baby: your parents, vanessa, even abby, but nobody was taking care of you. (doesn’t that just make your ovaries scream??) so he made it his mission to help you out with everything he could, on top of the baby, which he absolutely didn’t mind. lowk, mike is a house wife.

in the night, you two would trade shifts for the baby. there were times where he knew you were so tired from breastfeeding and just taking care of the baby during the day in general — he had to work full time still to be able to provide for you guys — that he would take full night shifts and let you sleep. it was basically like working at freddy’s so….

when you started going back to work, mike would make sure the laundry was done, house was always clean, each meal was made, abby got to one place or another. of course, he spent as much time taking care of the baby as he did with other things, but you were just under so much stress and he felt as though the best thing he could do for you was take most of the mental load. soon you became accustomed with being a mom and soon your workloads were basically evenly split.

okay enough of the background.

mike loves playing with the baby. sooo crazy, right? lol. he loves doing tummy time with her, playing peek-a-boo, talking in funny voices. he also loved picking out outfits for her, even though he actually has no sense of fashion and you quickly banned him from buying anything in the store. i think his favorite thing to do with his baby girl is making her laugh. ugh! baby laughs are so cute in general, and it just made his whole world. unlike everyone in the world, besides you and sometimes abby, no one really liked mike. well, no one gave him a chance and to be fair, he didn’t really let them. it wasn’t until he met you where we felt complete and whole and happy and not afraid of risks. and it wasn’t until the baby where he felt a true sense of purpose and he was happy with how his life turned out.

his absolute favorite sight in the world is seeing you, abby, and the baby play. the house has never been filled with as much joy as it is when y’all are playing. everyone’s giggling, teasing each other, fawning over the baby. its literally like the perfect family he never got to have :,).

he also absolutely adores you as a mom. he thinks you are the best mom ever. and of course he should think that anyways, but he believes it with his whole being. being a first time mom, you were nervous of course. but in the first month, all you did was berate yourself for not being a good mom and not knowing your baby’s needs, but with mike’s reassurance and time, you gained more and more confidence.

when the baby starts going to daycare, mike is actually terrified. he starts to look for jobs he can do at home because he’s so scared that what happened with garrett is going to happen to his baby. but with multiple background checks, questions, lowk spying, he tries to trust the daycare center you two choose.

random note before i stop talking. mike is a sleepy guy and so is the baby. the two often nap together with the baby on top of his stomach. AH. looks so cute. sometimes his hand is on her head or back, or her little fingers are wrapped around his thumb. you have countless of pictures of them in this one situation. i’d like to think mike doesn’t really sleep when the baby is on his stomach because he’s afraid she’s gonna fall or he will roll over, but he stays as calm and quiet as he can so she can rest.

#this is so long #I have so much more to say #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf x reader

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nonspeakers-r-us · 1 year

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Nobody talks about episodes of uncontrollable emotion and dangerous behaviors in severe Autism.

I apologize for the long post. This is important to me. Heavy CW for mention of knives, self-injurious behaviors, description of intense emotions, brief descriptions of restraints and police. Yes, I used the word "severe" to describe my Autism. This is because I am Nonspeaking, very High Support Needs, visibly Autistic, and have a Borderline IDD. This is how I choose to describe my Autism. Please don't attack me for this, Tumblr. Anyways. Darting out into busy streets. Repeatedly banging your head against walls. Throwing objects, sometimes even very dangerous objects such as knives. Breaking things - anything - no matter the value or durability. Unplanned, sudden violence towards self and others. Lashing out, in pure emotion, just screaming into nothing at the top of your lungs, for no obvious reason other than pure, unadulterated, terrifying emotion. This may not seem like symptoms of Autism for anyone, and they may not be caused by Autism at all. But for many young people and adults with severe Autism, this is what our families deal with regularly. "Difficult behaviors", as I've often heard them described as by social workers. There's often no clear reason for then. They just. Happen. We are almost never diagnosed with secondary conditions. It is considered a symptom of our severe/profound Autism. While in many Speaking and Low Support Needs people with Autism, they would be diagnosed with various conditions. Conduct Disorder. Bipolar. Borderline Personality Disorder. Maybe even a severe case of Intermittent Explosive Disorder. But for those of us on the more visible part of the Spectrum, nobody knows how to deal with us. It's scary and heartbreaking for our families, and deeply traumatic for us. Many times, our families and caregivers will turn to emergency services such as police or EMTs when they have no where else to turn. I don't like this option, I hate it. But in moments of extreme panic and fear, I don't always blame families for this. Nobody talks about those of us who have been restrained by our arms and ankles to hospital beds for weeks at a time. Nobody talk about those of us who turn violent on the people we love most, when we just can't control ourselves. I wish I had good advice for those of us struggling with this. I wish I could comfort you. While mood stabilizers and antipsychotic medications have helped me, it doesn't help everyone. DBT for severely Autistic individuals is another thing that greatly helped me. This is a fact of life for many individuals with severe Autism and their families. It's terrifying. But please keep trying treatment, keep advocating for yourself as much as possible, and keep going. I'm sure you don't think this means anything, but you are strong. You are brave. I see you and I want you to keep going. Nobody talks about episodes of uncontrollable emotion and dangerous behaviors in severe Autism.

#actually autistic #nonspeaking #autism #high support needs #nothing about us without us #nonverbal #aac user #rage attacks #conduct disorder #severe autism #actually nonverbal

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mywons · 11 months

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៹ enha when you're hurt.

▸ ִֶָ tags enha x reader + fluff + hurt/comfort + jayke being bf material + the boys being protective + romantic gestures. warnings! && mentions of injury, cursing. REQUESTED : hi there i love love love your writing and i was wondering if you could maybe do how the members would react if someone hurt you (either physically or emotionally)? ✿ 1.6k words —

## HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT !

lee heeseung !

he's very very very attentive

whether you guys are dating or not, he makes sure to know all of your habits/quirks, so he knows when something's off

if you don't outright tell him, he'll ask for himself. "hey, what's going on with you? what happened, hm?"

please tell him so he doesn't think he did something wrong :(

his presence alone is probably one of the most comforting things ever, so if he's also putting all of his effort into making sure he's comforting you . . . god

if you're upset about something that can't be fixed, he'll listen to you rant & cry about it while he holds you in his arms and kisses the top of your head. maybe try and crack a few jokes to make you laugh,, get your mind off of it for a little

if it's something that can be fixed, he will give you any & all advice you ask for. would even take matters into his own hands if he feels like you're too stressed to handle it. he's so caring it's insane

if it's a person that hurt you . . . good luck to them???

like he already doesn't like seeing you upset but there's an actual human being that caused your tears?? they'll literally never be safe again

overall so so gentle with you and absolutely the best when it comes to making you feel better.

park jongseong !

he'll notice. immediately. like as soon as your fucking walk is a little off, he knows something is up

won't say anything unless you bring it up first, but he'll pamper you in so much affection that you know he's noticed your change in behavior

if days go by & your behavior doesn't change, then he'll ask about it

at this point, he's worried more than anything. just wants his happy baby back !!

^^ especially if your state starts messing w your physical health. he is not having it. has absolutely no problem w missing any & all events to cater to your every want and need, he's your very own personal caregiver

wtv's fucking with you will be long gone by the time he's done, jay hates to see you unhappy and he'll do absolutely anything to change it.

+ he already loves being there for you at every waking moment, so having an excuse to do this other than want ??? he loves it

you get texts from him every five minutes if he can't be near you "i'll bring food as soon as i can" "are you feeling better yet honey?" "i'm gonna stay over for the night"

you'd have to physically pry him off of you to go get a drink of water/use the bathroom in the middle of the night. poor boy is so clingy when you're not feeling well :((

jongseong the (boy)friend we all need $!3#+$%?

sim jaeyun !

he'd take you out on the best date ever, and you being you, you fall and twist your ankle

it's not that deep, you just have to stay in bed and elevate it for a few days. jake—jake thinks it is that deep

he feels so bad that you got hurt during your time w him, it feels like it's his fault even though it's really no one's

in guilt & genuine concern for you, he's by your side everyday all day. pampering you. holding your hand when you wanna get up and walk, cooking your meals and helping you bathe

he's js so so so sweet and by the end of it you're so accustomed to his company that you guys end up being a lot closer

randomly starts telling you how much he loves you throughout the day. platonic or not, he's just 100x more affectionate when you're hurt

even after you're all healed, his touch becomes a lot more gentle with you. the usual rough banter & playful fighting you guys do turns into softer touches and warm hugs. he's so careful with you

& finds himself being a lot more protective, too. a hand on the small of your back always

not overbearing, but it's to the point that you miss him so much it hurts when he's not near you

if someone else causes an injury or anything else that even slightly alters your mood in a negative way, pray for them

idk if y'all saw that one video where he said he'd fight over his partner but,, yeah. he didn't lie.

when it comes to your health, he's very very serious and he expects the same from everyone else you hang around

if he finds that someone around you doesn't feel that way, he would not hesitate to start an argument. you deserve the absolute best and shouldn't settle for less, he tells you

if you aren't already, you'll be in love w him by the end of your injury

park sunghoon !

sunghoon is an introvert, and because of this, he finds himself being quiet & zoning out sometimes. he has his bursts of chaotic energy like everyone else, but for the most part he observes

trying to lie to him ab being fine isn't smart. he knows you like the back of his hand. oh you thought he was staring into space? no, he was paying attention to literally everything around him, especially you

literally just the tone of your voice could change slightly and he knows something's wrong. he won't let it go either

"tell me. what's wrong? did something happen? did someone happen?"

he's naturally protective of the people around him, but you especially. you're very special to him and he likes to show it

you'd sit in his lap and tell him just about everything that's bothering you, while his hands are around your waist and he hugs you tightly

he knows he doesn't like dwelling on bad feelings himself, so his main thing would be to try and keep your mind as far drifted away from whatever's bothering you

whether it be physical contact, making jokes, reading to you, he'll do anything if it means he gets to see you smile because he knows you'd do the same for him

it's not rare for him to be affectionate, but he's usually only touchy when you guys are alone. now that he knows where your head is, he's always touching you as a way of reassurance

just so perfect in every way, doesn't at all think of you as a burden

kim sunoo !

he's definitely the type to be sad if you're sad

sunoo would walk up to you, expecting an exciting greeting. when he doesn't get that, he'd frown and immediately ask what's wrong

you'll tell him about the stomachache that's been bothering you, and he'd make you some tea and take a nap with you

it's easy to fall asleep as he traces shapes into your exposed skin

100% asking "are you okay? you're sure? do you need anything?" every five seconds

^^ make that every two seconds, actually

he's already extremely affectionate, but he usually shows it by teasing you. this time around? nuh uh, you're getting absolutely drowned in loving

just so sweet !!!!!!!! sweetest boy ever

he's so caring and forever concerned for you and how you're doing

you want soup in the middle of the night? he will sleepwalk to the damn kitchen and get the fucking job done.

yang jungwon !

he's probably used to dealing w caring for his sick members because of his leader role, but he definitely cares for you in a different way

showers you in gifts to take your mind off of your injury. buys you all different types of snacks and plushies <3

if it's something more emotional that's bothering you, there's no one else you could ask for that's better at making you feel better !!

he's so so genuine and it makes him so easy to be around ,, especially when you're dealing with problems. jungwon prides himself on how many people have told him how comfortable he makes them feel

definitely doesn't see you as a bother, and if you suggest such, you will be scolded

you're so very precious to him & he would never ever want you to feel otherwise. it's practically his duty to nurse you back into your best health so why would he ever be bothered by it??? especially when you're so wonderful to be around

his love language is definitely words of affirmation/quality time anyways, so he would never ever do anything to make you feel unwanted and is constantly reassuring you in any and every way he can

scolds redirects you when you try to do anything for yourself. "hey, let me do it, okay? you lie down."

honestly you forget you'd forget ab your problems whenever he's around, it's like his presence is the medicine to your wound

best boy <3

nishimura riki !

teases you nonstop !!

if it's something like a very small injury, he'll laugh at you as he helps your with your bandages

if it's something far more serious, he's far more serious

definitely doesn't like it if you don't take your current state seriously. you're not doing well, therefore you should be doing everything to get better. not wasting your time to make jokes. he's very rarely stern but when it comes to your wellbeing he's completely different

wouldn't get emotional unless it's something serious, and even then he wouldn't be emotional in front of you

orders you both different foods to try out of boredom each night

riki would 100% stay the night if you ask him, but if you aren't dating, he would sleep so far away unless you ask otherwise

^^ he's so cute bye

but in ending he's just super supportive and just wants the best for you, even if he teases you most of the time

!!!!!!! cutie

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zal-cryptid · 2 months

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Okay, with Misfits in Toyland dropping in two weeks on Webtoon, I feel the need to just recap where the main cast is at in their nightmarish existence upon Maria's arrival. I will be putting these plot-relative comics I've made up on there as interludes and bonus content.

Eleanor's life hasn't actually changed much in decades. She did work at the doll hospital for a while in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but since then, she has lived a semi-recluse life in her doll house on the outskirts of Toy Town, only socializing and inviting guests over for tea parties. She is often turned to when seeking certain information or guidance and often plays the role of expositor to newcomers.

Paul got a haircut from Jen, a neighbour of his who he got off to a rocky start with. They have since developed a romantic relationship and moved in together. Since then, Paul has grown more comfortable with his gender identity and has even embraced being called "Pauline" - a name that denizens used to call him in jest.

Jen, meanwhile, found out that the girl who bullied her and ruined her life had also wound up in Toyland. She has, for the last 23 years or so, found ways to torment Tammy out of revenge. Sometimes assisting Gabe in the guise of helping him run experiments on her, just so she can find ways to torture her. However, Gabe has gradually picked up on her animosity toward Tammy and has been working on a particular project in secret so that the two stay separated.

To distract herself from her new reality, Mel had taken up the responsibility of looking after Tammy. The two have since bonded, becoming close friends and caring about each other deeply.

However, Mel's play-brain seems to be worsening lately, increasing her infantile attributes. She kept this a secret from Tammy in fear of upsetting her. On top of everything, she has recently rendered herself mute after accidentally breaking her pullstring. Left with no other choice, Mel follows Tammy's advice and takes up Dolly’s offer for help, moving in with her.

However, due to a terrible misunderstanding, it seems that the "help" Dolly offered was not what Mel and Tammy had expected. Believing she wanted to be treated like a baby, Dolly has taken up the role of Mel's caregiver, keeping her captive in a nursery to ensure maximum privacy. Believing Dolly to be insane and unwilling to be reasoned with, Tammy has taken up the role of "baby monitor" so that she can continue to stay with Mel.

Trapped, unable to communicate, and not having the strength to fight back, Mel seems to be slipping towards Toy Fugue.

Gabe has been hard at work developing a way to improve Tammy's quality of life after running several experiments on her over the years. However, given his plush body, his other responsibilities, and his love for video games, said development has been slow.

He seems to be really focused on his work as of late and keeping to himself after an awkward poker night with his friend Charlie, which led to a night of drunk love-making and vulnerability. While Gabe is openly bi, Charlie isn't sure what he is, and the two seem to be avoiding each other until they figure it out.

#misfits in toyland #recap #lore #my art #original characters #my ocs #story

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toruro · 1 year

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svt + them coming home after a tough day

a/n: sorry, i get so carried away while writing these i don't even realize how long they get ajdskdsk

w/c: 3.0k

warnings: sexual content in some (it's not super descriptive), face fucking, oral (m receiving), a little bit of angry sex, lmk if i'm missing something

seungcheol

definitely is constantly exhausted just because he has to take care of so many other people so he hardly has time to focus on himself. he finds is so easily to just collapse into you when he gets to see you like i'm saying you hear the door open and before you even have time to get up from the couch he's just already slumped on top of you. he'd murmur something like, "missed you," softly as you adjusted your arms around him, gently massaging your fingers into his scalp. yes seungcheol LOVES to be the caregiver—the protector—but sometimes, especially on tough days like these, he loves to be babied. he wouldn't need to say anything, because him acting like this was enough to let you know that it was one of those days, and that all you needed to do was give him the care and attention he deserves. he'd ask to take a shower together, and although you know he means for it to be a way to hold you close and feel safe in your proximity, you can't help but feel the need to suck him off too. of course, he doesn't mind—welcomes it with open arms. after the shower head, you'll wash his hair for him and finally settle into bed extra early so that he can quietly tell you about his day while some songs play in the background.

jeonghan

i feel like he'd find it a bit hard to directly ask for help or comfort just because he's so used to taking care of others (like cheol) but is also somewhat reserved (not like cheol!). you still know him too well and he loves you so much for it, but he's always so surprised by how perceptive you are. he'll make his way into your apartment, and you immediately would notice how he shut the door harder than usual; jeonghan hardly ever gets angry at people, rather objects, so you take this as your first sign that something's up. then he'll be a little—just a little—more brisk with his responses when you're trying to make conversation. finally, when he turns down your offer of a chocolate, you know something's going on. you'll have to practically force the truth out of him and when he finally confesses that he's just been having a hard day, your heart sags. you hug him as he sits in the chair in the dining room and you stand, pushing his face into your chest as you rest your chin on the top of his head. after a few moments like this, jeonghan finally brings his arms up to wrap around your waist and hold you closer, mumbling something softly. "thank you for always being here." you almost want to scold him for thanking you, but you figure just kissing him on the cheek will let him know that he doesn't have to thank you for this.

joshua

of all the members, i feel like specifically joshua (and minghao) really values communication above all else. in joshua’s case, that’ll be as much as just texting you a sad face a few hours before he comes home, letting you know that it’s one of those days :( he won’t go into detail over text, rather settling for laying down on your lap when he gets home and quietly telling you about everything. it’s less about asking you for advice and more about being comfortable and honest with you about his emotions. when he’s done you’d offer to order his favorite takeout and he’d welcome the idea. after placing the order, he’ll just sit slumped next to you on the couch, fingers playing with yours until he grabs you by the waist and pulls you onto his lap. you’ll be making out sloppily for a few minutes before you sneak a hand in his pants, drinking in his soft gasps of, “baby, please.” basically you give him a hand job and when you’re done he just holds you close, resting his chin on your shoulder while you say your “i love you’s.”

jun

soft. like really soft and clingy and like the moment he comes home he’ll drop everything and crawl into the spot on the sofa next to you, pressed up as physically close as possible. literally will not let you go even when you pepper him with kisses and tell him you need to go prepare dinner. you’ll have to literally pull both of you up since his hands’ll be circled around your waist CONSTANTLY. like he will not let go. even when you’re in the kitchen he’ll have his chest pressed up against your back and he’s just so much bigger than you and it’s so comforting to him BUT it does make cooking rather hard (you refrain from asking him to let go, even if it is a bit inconvenient). i feel like jun wouldn’t want to talk too much about exactly what’s bothering him but he knows you know somethings up and you aren’t going to press him if he doesn’t want to talk about it—you know if it’s really important he’d tell you. but overall i think you get the point: VERY clingy and constantly wanting your attention (and obviously you indulge).

soonyoung

super grumpy. like frowning and adding a little stomp to his feet kinda grumpy. you can feel the cloudy atmosphere around him as soon as he steps through the door, walking up to him and placing your hands on his shoulders to ask what’s wrong. “bad day,” he’d mumble with his grimace deepening as he sits down at one of the chairs at your dinner table with a sigh. you gently stand behind him, massaging his shoulders as he starts talking about his day, his voice getting increasingly heated and tempered as he goes on. you hum in response, adding small, short-phrased replies to some of the stuff he says. he finishes his rant by leaning back in the chair, head resting on your stomach as you move from his shoulders to stroke his hair. his eyebrows will still be furrowed when he closes his eyes, but you feel his body relax and lean into your touch. you can tell he’s thinking, so you settle on just telling him you love him. that seems to set something off though, and hoshi would soon be grabbing your wrist and pulling you to stand in front of him with your body faced away. he’d push you down so you’re bent over the dinner table, standing up quickly so he could grind against you. “love you so much,” he’d grunt out as he pulls your shorts and panties down in one go as you brace yourself against the cool wood of the table, excitement pooling in your stomach. “you’re always so good to me baby,” he’ll murmur before getting to work.

wonwoo

honestly he’s great at hiding his emotions, at least when it comes to his expressions, but he should’ve known that you’re way too good at picking up on how he’s actually feeling. you realize that it’s one of Those Days within the first two minutes of your conversation with him once he comes home. urging him to talk to you about it, he eventually spills out the contents of his day to you while he leans against the counter when you’re cooking dinner. you can tell it’s a little hard for him, by the way he deeply furrows his eyebrows after talking about a particularly annoying event, but you don’t push him and let him take things at the pace he wants. once he’s done and you offer your share to the conversation, you tell him to get washed up since you’re almost done with dinner. he doesn’t seem too fond of that idea, pouting and frowning and all—it’s honestly so cute that you can’t help but happily agree when he asks, “shower with me?” you agree but only under the condition that you eat first. after you’ve taken your last bite of the meal, wonwoo is quick to grab your wrist, using his other hand to muffle any complaints you have about how the dishes still have to be made. the reason for his rush doesn’t really click for you until you’re both stripping in the bathroom and notice he’s already half hard. you roll your eyes playfully, but wonwoo doesn’t let it slide. you barely make it into the shower before he’s got your waist in a tight grip, fingers digging into your skin, as he presses you against the glass. basically blowing off steam by taking an extra steamy shower hehe.

jihoon

i’d imagine he’s kind of like hoshi in the sense that he’s visibly very grumpy. it’s less sad and a little bit more mad and i feel like he would value his own space a little. you know what he’s like when he’s in this kind of mood so you try not to pry too much—you trust woozi to talk to you if he needed to—but eventually you think it’s time for you to say something when you’re both quietly eating dinner together. “you okay?” you’d ask softly, reaching your hand over so you can interlock your fingers with his. he’d sigh sadly, and it’s almost as if he knew you were going to ask him at some point. it takes him a second to properly react, finally responding by tightening his hand’s hold on yours, murmuring something about how work was hard. i feel like in general, he’d be very reserved about the entire situation, but after confessing the reasons behind his frustrations to you, he mood would go from angry to more subdued and more sad. not that it was a great improvement, but it’s much easier dealing with a sad woozi than a mad one, so you spend the rest of the night by his side and even bring out his favorite dessert so that you can bring up his mood.

seokmin

visibly upset when he gets home. like the other boys might be pouty or angry or what not but dk is upset. like i don't know how to emphasize that any more. wants to be clingy just talk to you but also has had such a hard day that he finds himself exhausted. you'd encourage him to sit down on the couch while you make dinner. once you finish, you let him talk about your day as you two eat, holding his hand throughout the entire process. your heart nearly breaks when you see his eyes get glossy at some parts but you don't say anything until he's done. once he's finally finished, he'd try to apologize for taking so much time or what not but you need to quickly shush him down and reassure him that he is not a burden and that he should not apologize for anything. you'd give him lots of "i love yous" and he'd just soak them all up and go from sad to more of a playful poutiness and agadsjh so cute

mingyu

pouty. SO SO SO pouty. he’d come home and the first thing he’d do is complain about his day to you while you sit on the couch, mingyu between your legs, his head on your chest. and he knows you love him sososo much and that you’re such a sucker for him so he’ll give you puppy eyes and say something like, “since i’m having such a bad day, can we get takeout?" and when he looks at you like that you just can't say no. you'd order from your favorite pace, mingyu still resting between his legs as you play with his hair. massaging his scalp, he'll fall deeper into your hold and after a particular, soft tug at his hair he'll let out a quiet groan that sparks an idea in your mind. gently pushing him off of you, you won't hear the end of mingyu's whines and protests as he sits upright to try and pull you back toward him. "baby hold on," you'd murmur, setting down on your knees in front of the couch, in between his legs—that's when it clicks for him. his pout would transform into a smirk as he leaned back, lifting his hips and pulling down his pants for you. definitely face fucks you. like i think in general he's pretty gentle but he knows you're doing this so that he can let off some stress and that's exactly what he's gonna use you for.

minghao

like i said earlier, he's like joshua—THRIVES on communication. you don't even have to ask him to tell you what's wrong because it's pretty much the first thing he tells you when he gets home. i don't think he'd tell you everything though—not because he doesn't trust you or your help—i just feel minghao takes issues like these as something for personal growth. that doesn't mean he's not sulky and isn't going to indulge in your comfort though. he would go about the evening like you two usually do, but stay by your side a little extra, like sitting next to you at the dinner table as opposed to across from each other like you normally do. usually in the night, you would both read separate books in the bed, but tonight he pulls you close so your head rests on his shoulders as he puts on some show for you to watch together. you definitely maybe give him a blowjob while you're at it, both of you finding solace in the way his fingers tangle in your hair as he pushes you down a littler more than usual, the pent of frustration slowly withering away. aside from that, it's the little things: how his fingers are interlaced with yours when they're usually be buried between the pages of a book, and how cuddling, which is usually a morning time activity, is the only thing he's doing before you two sleep.

seungkwan

i just know he the SULKIEST of them all. he would bug you and want all your attention and all your sympathy and all your kisses and your lips just all over him and all over his di—you get it. seungkwan adores you, and even when his mood is sour, he would want to be all up in your space. that doesn't mean he won't be petty about it—his heart would already be so tender from the events of the day that he would need you to be extra careful with your words—you're basically tip toeing around legos at this one point—one wrong move and it's pretty much a disaster. luckily for you, you know just how to handle seungkwan. you'd bring out his favorite dessert after dinner and while both of your lips are extra sweet you'd make out in the kitchen. it would be desperate and sloppy, your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands would run up and down your body. it'd only be a matter of time before you're sinking down to your knees unbuttoning his jeans. here's to say you definitely made him cum more than once.

vernon

honestly i feel with vernon it can go one way or the other: 1) he's just very pouty and honestly, tries to be intentionally difficult for the sake of being stubborn OR 2) he's just super clingy like jun. either way he's going to be bothering you somehow but of course you don't mind—how could you? whatever's the case, you'd eventually have to sit him down and make him talk about his day before you two begin to cuddle on the bed. now i feel like vernon just loves oral in general but for some reason he'd feel bad for asking for head (even though you've told him multiple times you enjoy it too), so he settles on like making not so subtle innuendos so you can try to get the hint; stuff like "hmm you make me feel better," when he's holding you or just toying with the hem of your shirt ever so slightly. you're slightly oblivious though, finally getting the hint when he's spooning you and you feel him hard behind you LOL. it all makes sense now, you'd think to yourself, before finally pushing yourself off the bed and giving the man what he wants lmfaoo

dino

i feel like if he was having a bad day, he’d feel more tense than anything. like not really sad or angry or frustrated, it’d just feel like there’s a weight on his shoulders that he can’t seem to get rid of, and he tells you this right when he gets home. he'd be very vocal about his emotions which you both love since communication is key! after he's done talking about everything he'd still be really exhausted, excusing himself to take a shower while you prepare dinner. everything after that goes pretty normal except you can still tell that chan's feeling a little...down :( which means that you need to think of ways to cheer him up because if there's anything you hate it's seeing chan not be his bright and passionate usual self. after dinner, you suggest you two watch a movie together on the couch, and while you can tell he's a little tired, he agrees nonetheless, eager to curl up by your side. like most of your movie nights go, you two don't even make it 30 minutes in before you're sitting on his lap, mouths connected in a hot, sloppy mess. he's about to turn you over so he's on top before you pull away, pushing down hard on his shoulders so he falls back into the couch. "this is about you," you tell him, leaning back in to kiss him while you both shuffle out of your pants and shorts. basically you ride him and chan definitely spanks you at least once. or twice. or thr—okay you get the point.

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

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First Time Father - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Wife (No Name or Appearance)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Hospital Visit, Self Doubt, Stress, Light Angst, Sick Baby, Baby OC is Referred to as 'Dove,' Rooster Thinks He's a Bad Dad

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: It's Rooster's first time alone with his baby daughter. But when she comes down with a fever under his watch, Rooster seriously doubts his abilities as a father.

Master List

It was Rooster’s first extended time alone with his daughter without his wife around.

He was very much a hands-on dad, but his wife was their daughter’s primary caregiver for the first four months of their daughter’s life because of maternity leave and then her gradual return to work. Rooster was always quick to look after their daughter, who they nicknamed Dove, when he got home, but he openly acknowledged that his wife cared for Dove most often.

So, with his wife’s college friend’s child-free wedding coming up, Rooster had a three-day weekend to care for his daughter all on his own. And, well, this was a test for himself. His wife didn’t put excessive expectations onto him. That was all Rooster.

He always tried to check-in with his wife to make sure that he was pulling his weight with Dove. Rooster didn’t want to become one of those complacent dads who just relied on their wife for everything and couldn’t take care of their own child by themselves. He didn’t want his wife to be one of those women who said that she had two kids at home—her actual baby and her husband.

Maybe that was just the fear creeping up from his conversations with Penny about her divorce and what the older guys at work said, but Rooster wanted to prove to himself that he could do it. He could take care of his daughter by himself without any hiccups.

Rooster’s wife left Thursday night and Rooster handled Thursday night and Friday morning perfectly well. Dove stayed on her nap and feeding schedule, he got some projects done around the house, and they even went to see Grandpa Mav. But then a few hours after they got home, Dove came down with a fever and started crying like nothing Rooster had ever heard before.

And, well, maybe he panicked just a little bit.

The lights of the ER were bright and blinding and Rooster did his best to shield Dove’s eyes from the excessive light. Holding her against his chest as she cried, Rooster tried to console her as he waited for a medical professional to come and collect them.

Since it was a Friday night, the pediatrician and Urgent Care centers were all closed. And his wife wasn’t answering her phone, probably because she was at the rehearsal dinner. And the lady giving him the side eye for the last hour combined with his daughter’s continuous cries were really starting to push Rooster over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Rooster tried to console his daughter, his voice breaking a bit. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s little head, praying for some advice from his mom. She would know what to do in this situation. But Bradley didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe he wasn’t as good of a father or as good of a husband as he wanted to be. As he thought he was.

“Bradshaw,” a nurse called, causing Bradley to hurry to his feet.

The nurse led him back to one of the smaller hospital rooms. Bradley listed off the timeline of events to the nurse, who nodded, typed them up, and walked off to grab a doctor. Rooster tried setting his daughter back into her carrier, but that only made her cry louder. He picked her back up and cradled her to his chest, feeling a few tears leak out.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’re in pain,” he whimpered, resting his head on top of her smaller one.

There was a light knock on the door before a man dressed in a pair of turquoise scrubs and round glasses stepped into the room. The doctor seemed to quickly assess the situation before striding further into the room.

“I’m Dr. Greene,” he stated, causing Rooster to nod. “What seems to be the problem?”

“She has a fever and she won’t stop crying and I don’t know what’s wrong. Nothing that I try seems to work,” Rooster replied shakily, hugging his daughter just a little tighter as she continued to cry. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Alright, let me take a look at her.”

Rooster set his daughter on her back on the examination table. She wiggled around, still whimpering and crying. Dr. Greene started with his stethoscope and listened to her heart and lungs. He quickly checked her ears and her throat and looked over her vitals again. Rooster stood to the side, trying to comfort his daughter as well as he could while subtly wiping his tears away.

He must have done something wrong. He was a terrible father. He screwed up his daughter.

“It’s an ear infection. Nothing too serious,” Dr. Greene deduced, straightening up. “I’ll prescribe some antibiotics. That should clear it up in a few days.”

“But her screams . . . she sounds like she’s in a lot of pain.”

“Ear infections hurt. And this seems to be her first one and she’s only about four months old. Every little bit of pain to a baby can easily be the worst pain that they’ve ever experienced before,” Dr. Greene explained calmly, typing away at the chart. “Her heart rate is normal and her lungs are clear. And an ear infection can cause the fever.”

“And the ear infection, what caused it?” Rooster asked nervously, rubbing his daughter’s head.

“Well, does she spend any time around other kids? Is she in daycare or does she have any siblings?” Dr. Greene suggested, turning back to Rooster.

“She’s at daycare twice a week,” Rooster breathed out, causing Dr. Greene to nod.

“Exactly. Those places are a breeding ground for disease. Especially with babies and young children who haven’t really built up an immunity to anything.”

“So . . . I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Dr. Greene stated, finishing up with the chart. He turned back to Rooster, studied his tired and frazzled expression, and offered him a small smile. “First time dad?”

“Is it that obvious?” Rooster returned, wincing a bit.

“I assure you that we’ve seen and heard plenty of stories far stranger than an ear infection from first time parents,” Dr. Greene chuckled, gathering his things. “Kids get sick. It happens. And you did the right thing in getting her to a medical professional. The antibiotics should be ready at the pharmacy and they should clear it up. But if she’s still sick in three days, go to your primary care physician.”

Dr. Greene turned to leave the room before pausing and turning back to Rooster one last time.

“And to be perfectly honest with you, I would highly prefer a parent who was overly concerned with their child’s health than one who wasn’t concerned at all. You’re doing fine,” Dr. Greene assured Rooster with a small smile before opening the door. “Have a good night.”

“Thanks, you too,” Rooster called back, finally able to breathe a bit again.

It was just an ear infection. He didn’t screw up. He did the right thing.

“Let’s get you some medicine, Dove,” Rooster sighed, setting his daughter back into her carrier.

The Dr. Greene that I may or may not have had in mind:

#rooster fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster #dadley dadshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #tgm #tgm fanfiction #top gun #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster x wife!reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x wife!reader

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