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#tw: injury
gentletrees · 6 months
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Some doodles from different scenes of @ssreeder 's fanfic LIAB! I literally drop everything when you upload QuQ <3 thank you for putting so much effort into this fic, it really shows! I love it!
Really wanted to capture the two most heartbreaking moments of the last few chapters - two very, very different reunions with very different underlying emotions.
And the last one is a doodle after reading the most recent chapter - Zuko wearing his hair in a messy ponytail, dressed in expensive clothing - moments before disaster :))
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reginalusus · 1 month
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"We're still good men."
Happy 22/2! Or 2/22!
Image description: Fanart of DC's Harvey Dent/Two-Face, with a contrast between blue and red. Harvey walks with his scarred side visible, dragging a body behind him. He is covered in blood. There is dialogue for him which reads: "One less degenerate off the streets... for the good of Gotham... Gotham can still be good. I'm still a good man." End of image description.
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*Lepi walks to the store in human form. Giggling at the fact that they are now doing normal human things as a human.
........
*Lepi feels watched. They continue
BAM!
*Lepi gasps and narrowly dodges some sort of magic blast.
What... what on earth......
Your going to have to try harder than that
*Someone appears behind Lepi and shoots them with something. There's a yellow light. It burns.
AHG FUCK!
*Lepi turns around and tries to cast a spell on the attacker. It... it doesn't work?
Hahaha! Your magical energies gone. Neat lil trick i learned.
*Lepi falls backwards and quickly tries to reach into thier hair. It doesn't work.
Nope. Not going to work this time. Turns out that little thing you got going in your head is also powered by magic. Albiet not very much magic.
*The figure approaches and grabs Lepi by the face. Lepi tries to get away. But the figure just grabs thier face tighter.
Curious though.... your still human.....
*Lepi's eyes grow wide. How do they know so much about me? They claw at the figures arm. It is not effective.
...... weak.
*They throw Lepi to the ground. Lepi tries to run. The human whispers something and spikes erupt in front of Lepi. Lepi falls to the ground.
Another fun trick! Turns out magic wasn't that hard to learn after all. Now
*The human grabs Lepi and holds them by the throat. Lepi grabs the persons arm in a desperate attempt to keep from choking.
Do you remember me? Look at my face.
*The human pulls Lepi closer to thier face. Lepi tries to look away
No. Look at my face.
*The human forces Lepi to look at them. Orange... eyes....
You don't know me... do you
........
*The human's expression drops to a blank face. The human is seething.
*The human throws Lepi to the ground again and steps on Lepi's leg. Hard. Breaking it
AHG! S-STOP!!
*Lepi curls up and grabs thier leg whimpering
Pathetic. You don't even remember.
*The human begins walking towards Lepi. Lepi begins trying to desperately crawl away. The figure picks Lepi up again and turns them to look at thier face.
LOOK AT MY FACE!! WHO AM I? DO YOU NOT EVEN HAVE THE BASIC DECENCY TO REMEMBER THE PEOPLE YOU DESTROYED THE LIVES OF?? I SPENT SO LONG REMEMBERING YOU. I KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT YOU NOW. I SPENT ALL THIS TIME LOOKING FOR YOU. SO WHO AM I?
*The human punches Lepi in the face. Giving them a black eye. They look at the human. A palpable fear rises in them. Destroyed...? They remember the cities they raised to ashes. No...nonononono, this isn't happening, not like this.
*Lepi gets up. Limping.
OH?? AHAHAHAHAhahaha... so are you going to try to fight? In that state? You are so much easier to fight than I thought. You are just a weak little moth, after all.
*The human begins running. Readying another punch. Something snaps in Lepi when they hear the human's words. They dodge and grab the human by the head. Flipping them over onto the ground. The human quickly gets up. The spikes appear right where Lepi is. Lepi throws themself out of the way. The human takes this opportunity to fling Lepi across the ground again. The human slowly walks to the ground towards Lepi. Knowing Lepi isn't in a state to go anywhere fast.
Im.... im not... weak
ahah...AHAHAHAHAHA THAT'S ALL YOU CARE ABOUT? NO. NO, YOU ARE WEAK. WEAK AND PATHETIC. LOOK AT HOW EASY THIS IS!!
*The figure grabs Lepi again and throws them against a tree. Lepi coughs blood
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YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME. MY LIFE. MY FAMILY. MY HOME. EVERYTHINGS GONE!! I SPENT ALL THIS TIME TRYING TO FIND YOU AND YOU BARELY PUT UP A FIGHT!!
*The figure punches Lepi again out of frustration. Lepi looks at the person in the eyes. The person has a crazed smile, and tears streaming down their face. Lepi feels an inescapable sense of dread. Lepi takes the punches.
WHY AREN'T YOU FIGHTING BACK??? WEAK!!! YOU WERE SO MUCH STRONGER BEFORE WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??? ARE ALL WIZARDS THIS WEAK WITHOUT MAGIC??
*The figure continues punching Lepi.
I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL KILL YOU LIKE YOU KILLED THEM!! ILL HURT EVERYONE YOU LOVE!!
AHahahaha.... no....no that's too easy..... i can't kill you yet. I spent this long trying to find you. Im going to enjoy this. Go. Run. Or i'll make your living moments so fucking painful.
*Lepi takes this opportunity. They desperately stumble away. The person laughs wildly and continues calling Lepi a coward.
*Once Lepi is a good distance away, they go into an alleyway in the town. Lepi leans against the wall and sinks to the ground. They grab their head and panick. Gasping for air. Their voice is raspy and squeaky.
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
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rabiesram · 2 months
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play stupid games win stupid prizes bonus:
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starwarjotta · 6 months
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Day 6 - resolve the resolve to protect those you care about even against impossible odds
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months
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Poisonously Bad Day
Requested Here! (Thank you so much for my first Tim Bradford req!!)
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader
Summary: Just before your anniversary with Tim, you receive threatening messages. When someone tries to take your life, you and Tim learn the importance of talking to one another. (Or, Tim's crazy ex stalks you and Tim gets really worried about you.)
Warnings: reader is stalked and threatened, violence with a nail gun, reader has severe food allergies and uses an epi-pen, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine with our favorite grump, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort
Word Count: 4.1k+ words
A/N: I do not have much practice writing for Tim, so I apologize if he's OOC. However, I really love writing for him and trying to capture his amazing character, so I love the practice and appreciate any other requests you send me! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
Picture from Pinterest
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Tim Bradford doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Or he didn’t before he met you. Your sunny personality drew him in, making his world a little brighter. From the moment he met you a few months ago, Tim has been enraptured by you. He’s still grumpy; his personality didn’t change overnight upon meeting you, but your sweet laugh and kind responses to his grumpiness make him happy. His smile isn’t as rare as it once was, but you still fight to see it, bringing as much sunshine as possible.
As your two-month anniversary approaches, you’re happier and giddier than usual. Toning it down as you knock on Tim’s door, you’re surprised to see him already smiling when he invites you in. It seems you’re rubbing off on him, even if he only shows you the softness that lies under the grumpy Tim you know and love. Although your relationship is very new, you haven’t even learned much about Tim’s previous relationships, you know you love him and treasure every moment you spend with your man of honor.
“Hey, you,” Tim mumbles, pulling you into a warm hug. “Missed you.”
“Long day?” you ask, pushing your fingers through his hair.
“Unbelievably. Nolan and Lopez decided to interrogate me about why I was in a ‘good mood’ all day.”
You stifle a laugh at Tim’s air quotes. He rolls his eyes when he sees your bright smile but pulls you into the kitchen anyway.
“I didn’t even know you could smile,” you tease him. “Now I want to know what caused the good mood.”
“I think you know.”
Despite his initial hesitance in getting close to you, Tim obviously knows how to treat you right and make you feel seen, appreciated, beautiful, and loved. Each moment you spend with him makes you a little more curious as to why no one has snatched him up yet. Yes, he’s grumpy, but he’s also just a big teddy bear underneath if you’re willing to dig.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim usually walks you home after dates, but he gets called into work, so you return alone. There is a small envelope slipped in the space between your door and the jamb, and you decide to open it before going inside.
The simple message reading ‘Back Off’ doesn’t give much information, so you shrug as you unlock the door. It’s probably just some kids messing around or a silly prank that ended up at the wrong house.
As soon as you lock the door behind you, your phone rings.
“Hello,” you greet cheerfully.
The line is silent for a few seconds before it beeps, disconnected from the other end.
“Wrong number,” you hum to yourself as you walk away from the phone.
When it rings again, you don’t answer. Your cell phone rings, a rare picture of Tim smiling (that he will delete as soon as he finds it) lighting up your screen as you race to answer it.
“Hey,” you say.
“I called your house a second ago, are you home yet?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, someone called right before with a wrong number, and I thought it was them again.”
Tim hums before telling you he wouldn’t be at work as long as he thought; he just needed to help with some paperwork before a case went to court.
“I can get reservations for next weekend if you’re still okay with my restaurant choice.”
You smile at Tim’s willingness to let you choose before assuring him that you only want to be with him, but you like the food there, too, so it’s a win-win.
After Tim hangs up, you fall asleep, forgetting about the note and the phone call.
✯✯✯✯✯
Someone knocks on your door as you exit your bedroom the following morning. You locate a bathrobe, pulling it over your pajamas before opening the door. Another envelope is on your mat, but no one is in sight.
The message in this one is a bit more concerning. The message, typed in a plain black font, reads: ‘I will KILL you to take him back.’
You consider calling Tim, asking him if he knows of any pranks like this going on in the neighborhood before deciding he’s probably too busy with real police work. Maybe you’re just paranoid.
Your cell phone rings, and you answer quickly, silencing when the only noise on the other end is distorted breathing. After they hang up, your thumb hovers over Tim’s number. 
“Grow up,” you chide yourself before returning to your room to get ready.
✯✯✯✯✯
Throughout the day, more creepy phone calls are made to your cell phone until you finally turn it off. When you meet Tim for lunch, he asks if you got the message he sent you, and you tell him a white lie: too many telemarketers were calling, and you turned it off. He nods, but his gaze is intense like he doesn’t quite believe you.
✯✯✯✯✯
After three days of phone calls with nothing but breathing and more notes about someone killing you to get whoever him is back from you, you’re tired. However, the morning goes by with no calls, and you think maybe whatever it was is finally over. When you walk out to your car, you freeze in the driveway and nearly drop everything you’re holding. 
Someone has slashed your tire and put a large building nail through it to attach a note.
You are next.
Up to this point, you’ve been more agitated than anything, but now you’re scared. Whoever this is has been close to you and knows when you come and go. But, at the same time, it’s just some notes and phone calls, not like you’re in any immediate danger.
Your phone buzzes, and you jump, an incoming text from Tim startling you. You reply to his message quickly, telling him you ran over a nail at some point and won’t be able to meet him for lunch. Seconds after pressing send, he calls you.
“Morning,” you answer, staring at the nail in your tire.
“Are you alright?” he asks, ignoring your nice greeting.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still at home, just noticed the tire.”
“I can come pick you up for lunch,” he offers. “Or come see you.”
“It’s completely out of the way, Tim, no worries. I’ll make up for it tomorrow?”
Tim doesn’t speak for a moment, and you can nearly see the crease on his forehead as he dissects your answers.
“Sure,” he says finally. “Call me if that changes.”
As he ends the call, he rubs his chin and decides to ask you what’s going on next time he sees you. You had been so happy and excited leading up to your anniversary, but it’s like a switch was flipped in you, and now you don’t want to talk to him. He believes you about the tire, but something else is bothering you, and he intends to find out what.
✯✯✯✯✯
Eating lunch at your desk, someone brings you a box from your favorite bakery.
“This was delivered to the front desk,” your coworker says, leaving it with you.
There are no names on it, but Tim is one of very few people who knows how much you like their treats. He also knows that you have severe food allergies, and it is one of the few bakeries in Los Angeles that happily works around them. Smiling at the idea of Tim sending you something after your rough morning, you open the box and take one of the goodies out.
After the third or fourth bite, you realize something is really wrong. As your throat closes, you start to panic as you dig through your bag for your epi-pen. One of the girls at a desk near you sees you and rushes to your aid, pulling your spare epi-pen from the communal snack area and inserting the tip into your leg as she yells for someone else to call 911.
The adrenaline surges into you, clearing your throat as you take a deep breath. Immediately, you know that whoever slashed your tires knows more than where you live and when you leave.
✯✯✯✯✯
The hospital is busy, and people are in and out of your room so frequently that you can barely think straight. You hear someone yell your name, recognizing Tim’s voice anywhere. He appears in the doorway a moment later, wide-eyed as he looks you over.
“I completely forgot I put you as my emergency contact. I’m so sorry,” you apologize lowly.
“What happened?” he asks, his voice softer than it was outside as he nears your side.
“I- I ate something and forgot to check the ingredients. Then I couldn’t find my epi-pen.”
Tim knows you always check the ingredients; your allergies dictate part of your life. If you didn’t make it or order it after inquiring about its ingredients or how it’s made, you don’t eat it. 
“How are you feeling now?” Tim asks, deciding it’s not the best time to press for the truth. His hand lands on your leg, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.
“I’m okay. My chest is still a little tight but they gave me something for it.”
“Let me call my chief and I’ll take the rest of the day off so I can take you home,” he offers.
“No, don’t do that, Tim. One of my coworkers can give me a ride home so you can go back to work.”
“I don’t think you should be alone.”
“The medicine is working, I just have to give it time and take it easy for a few hours. I promise I will be fine.”
Tim nods, squeezing your hand before kissing your forehead. “If you need anything, call me.”
You nod, watching him go. The feeling of his hand on yours is still there, and you feel terrible for lying to him, but there’s no real evidence that someone is trying to hurt you. Maybe someone was trying to be kind with the treats and didn’t know about your allergies.
Even as you think it, you realize it sounds ridiculous. You’re in danger, and you’re going to have to tell someone eventually.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your coworker drops you off after you insist you can walk to the door alone. Mostly, you don’t want her to see the giant nail in your tire.
Worse, you realize, is the other one. You slow when you see your front door, with a six-inch building nail driven into it. It’s nearly level with your eyes, and a disgusting mix of red and brown paint covers the door below it. A replica of a murder scene, you presume.
Finally understanding that every little thing over the last few days has been a threat, you don’t feel safe alone in your house. Stepping back, you prepare to call Tim.
Before you can, you see a woman standing in your driveway, staring at you with a nail gun and a paintbrush hanging from her hand.
“Who are you?” you ask quietly, swallowing as you try to steady your voice.
“I’m the one that Tim Bradford is supposed to be with,” she answers, slowly moving toward you. “Everyone could see how good we were together. Then you showed up and he changed his mind about me. Whatever you did to get him away from me… I will do so much more to you.”
You step backward as she speaks, fumbling with your keys behind your back. Just as she reaches the front of your porch, you step inside quickly and slam the door, locking it and looking around frantically for something you can use as a weapon. It gets quiet outside, not even a footstep audible as you hold your breath to listen.
A key slides easily into your lock, and you scramble into the kitchen, loosening your grip on your stuff to grab a knife on your way to the bathroom, one of the only doors that lock. The front door closes and locks, her easy footsteps far too familiar with the layout of your home.
Reaching for your phone to call for help, you realize that you dropped your phone to get the knife. You stand in front of the bathtub, terrified as you raise the knife in front of your chest. 
After a moment of silence that seems to last an eternity, the doorknob jiggles. You tighten your grip on the knife handle as she hums. 
A nail shoots through the lock, lodging in the metal mechanisms, and you back up until your calves are pressed to the cool side of the tub. Another nail comes through the door, launching through the hollow wood and lodging into the tile on the wall behind you. You drop your head as the tile shatters, and a third nail follows quickly, her aim much lower as it hooks your pants, pinning you to the porcelain behind you. You rip your leg free, stepping away from the tub and failing to notice the stinging sensation or the blood trickling down your ankle as you climb into the tub, hoping it offers enough protection.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim clenches his jaw when his third call to you goes unanswered. You promised to keep him updated after the anaphylaxis scare, but it’s been a couple hours since he left you in the hospital, and he hasn't heard a thing.
“Tim, just go,” Angela says, a knowing look on her face. “You won’t be able to focus until you know they’re okay. Unless you’re finally willing to tell me who brought a little sunshine to Timothy Bradford’s cloudy skies,” she taunts at the end.
Tim lets out a soft “hmm,” accepting her offer and gathering his things from the edge of her desk.
“She must be important,” Angela calls behind him, smirking to herself when he doesn’t correct her.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your breaths are loud and shaky even as you focus on controlling them. Several more clicks are heard from the nail gun, and you flinch each time, curling further into the bathtub. A loud screech draws your attention, a second nail dislodging the knob and the lock before the door opens.
You take your chance, hoping to surprise her as you jump toward her, knocking her to the floor and using both hands to point the nail gun away from you. She tries to roll out from under you, squeezing the trigger and firing a nail into the ceiling as she does. A small shower of drywall dust coats the room, but you keep your head down, entirely focused on keeping her at arm’s length.
“When it ends – when you end – I get him back!” she grunts, twisting in your grasp.
The sharper end of the paintbrush she had earlier is pushed into your side, and you gasp, loosening your grip on the nail gun. She raises it quickly as she tilts to the side, dumping you onto the floor and taking the upper hand. A nail is fired beside your head, momentarily deafening you as you flinch away from it.
You are unsure if she said him or Tim, but you think she means the same either way. Tim is the only thing you can think of that someone might want to take back from you.
“Isn’t that his choice?” you ask, pushing her hands away from you as she gets angrier.
She drops the paintbrush before using both hands to push the nail gun toward your forehead. You raise your legs, kicking her forward and over your head. As she topples, she squeezes the trigger multiple times. After the last firing sound, you open your eyes and notice a nail holding your shirt to the floor.
When you hear her groan behind you, you reach over until you feel the metal trash can beside your toilet, raising it over your head and dropping it aimlessly.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim has dozens of questions he wants to ask, but as he races to your house, they slowly fade into two: are you safe, and how can he make you see that telling him everything will benefit you both? He knows he doesn’t always seem like the best listener and isn’t big on sharing, but he wants to know what is happening in your life, what you’re feeling, and what you’re dealing with. More than that, he wants to be at your side, helping you navigate a life with him.
✯✯✯✯✯
The door opens with a loud bang, causing you to flinch. You attempt to sit up before yelping in pain when something tugs your side. Someone is running through your house, and you’re torn between yelling for help or staying silent in case she wasn’t working alone.
Tim yells your name, and you sigh before answering, “In the bathroom.”
✯✯✯✯✯
When Tim turns into your driveway, blocking the sidewalk as he parks behind your car, he sees the oversized nail protruding from your tire. Walking past it, he knows that wasn’t accidental, nor was the slash below it.
Worried about you and racking his brain over who would do something like that to you, he sees the scene on your door and kicks it open before he even thinks to knock.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim stops in the hallway, his eyes raking over the nails lining the door and the few stray ones in the wall across the hallway. It appears that most of the attack was aimed at the bathroom, but whatever happened escalated quickly.
Using his shoulder, he forcefully opens the door before entering the small bathroom. He steps over your unconscious assailant, lowering to his knee beside you. Looking over you, he lays a hand on the side of your neck, a warm and welcome comfort as he directs you to look at him.
You try to move closer to him, but he rushes to stop you.
“Don’t. Don’t move. The ambulance and more help are on the way, let’s just wait for them,” he says.
You nod, trusting him but unsure why he won’t let you move.
“Is she…” you ask, trailing off.
“She’s unconscious,” Tim answers concisely. “What’d you hit her with?”
“The trashcan,” you answer, a small smile appearing and making Tim shake his head.
“I should get one of those,” Tim jokes, leaning toward you.
Sirens grow louder as they get closer, and Tim sighs in relief.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can’t ask what happened yet, that’s for the next cop. But as your boyfriend, are you okay?”
“I am now,” you answer, raising your hand to lay over his on your jaw.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Do you know who she is?” the officer asks as the EMT sits beside you.
“No,” you answer. “I’ve been getting phone calls and messages for a few days, but I’ve never seen her before.”
“I have,” Tim interjects, shaking his head at you before supplying a name. “My ex.”
“Any idea as to why she attacked you?” the officer asks, glancing toward Tim.
“Sergeant Bradford, I presume. She said she’d kill me to get him back, but never said who him was,” you answer.
Tim nods, lowering his voice to explain something to the officer as the EMT asks questions about how you feel.
You sigh in relief as the paramedics carry Tim’s unconscious ex out, gripping Tim’s hand as he moves to your side again.
“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” the kind EMT says.
Tim moves his fingers, letting you squeeze him as much as you need.
“The nail caught some of your skin, but I’m going to try to go fast to minimize the pain.”
Understanding why it hurt to sit up before, you focus on Tim’s hand in yours rather than the hands on your torso, working to free you from the bathroom floor and stop the bleeding.
“All done,” the EMT announces. “You didn’t even flinch. We’ll get you to the hospital and let the doctors check everything.”
You sit up with Tim’s help, leaning against him as a temporary bandage is placed on your side. Looking around your destroyed bathroom, you move closer to Tim, grateful for him.
“Your ex is crazy,” you mumble against his shoulder.
Tim laughs, and it's a short but relieved noise accompanying his arm across your back, keeping you close and comforted.
“We’ll fix the bathroom later,” he promises.
You tilt your head and furrow your brows, prompting Tim to kiss the crease between them. “You’re not coming back here for a few days. Don’t give me that look.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Leaving the hospital, Tim lifts you from the wheelchair, staring at you when you grab his shoulders.
“I can walk, Tim,” you remind him.
He doesn’t listen or doesn’t care, taking the last few steps to the passenger seat and setting you down before buckling your seat belt, mindful of your bandaged side. He carries you into his house, grabbing some of your favorite snacks and drinks before sitting beside you and welcoming you into his arms. He’s quiet, but you’ve grown to understand Tim’s different silences better than most people’s words.
Right now, he’s relieved, but you’re sure he has a lot of questions, too. Getting him to ask them is the hard part.
“Have any other exes I should know about?” you ask after a few minutes.
“Hmm.” He raises his fingers as he nods and shakes his head, a playful ‘debate’ over who is worthy of being mentioned. Lowering his hands and giving you a sincere look, he says, “No, I don’t think so. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention her, I never expected she’d do something like this.”
You nod, though you never considered blaming him for something so completely out of his control. This is all on her, and she’ll have a chance to explain herself.
“Think I’d be a crazy ex?”
“You won’t be an ex at all,” Tim answers, tugging you closer against his chest.
Turning toward him, you trace your finger in small shapes over his chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tim asks gently.
You shrug. “I didn’t know how. And it wasn’t that bad at first.”
“You have to tell me these things or I don’t know something is wrong, I can’t help.”
“But you get grumpy,” you reply with an exaggerated pout.
Tim proves you right, grumbling even as he kisses you. “I’m allowed to be grumpy when someone is hurting the woman I love.”
You sit up quickly, and Tim’s eyes widen, his hands raising to your side as he grows concerned that you hurt yourself.
“You love me?”
Tim shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he mutters, “Against my better judgment, yes.”
You giggle at his grumpiness, leaning back into his side. He pulls your legs across his lap, letting you curl completely into his side. Toying with the hem of his your borrowed sweatpants, Tim lets his mind wander before tracing a gentle finger around the bandage on your ankle.
“Tickles,” you argue when you yank your leg away from him.
Tim pulls your leg back down, pointing out, “I deserve a few tickles after the week you put me through.”
“I was poisoned, and you had a bad week?” you repeat.
“I knew you were lying, you lying liar that lies!”
You duck your head at the reminder of everything you kept from Tim over the last few days. The anniversary you were so excited about now seems tainted.
“Hey,” Tim whispers, drawing your attention. “I’m not mad at you. And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m right here.”
“I don’t even know how she found out about the allergies,” you mumble.
“That’s probably my fault. I have notes and epi-pens everywhere, so if she was close enough to do this to you, she was close enough to find any of my stuff laying around.”
You shiver at the idea of her going through your things, but Tim’s hand rubs down your back and chases those thoughts away.
Taking his invitation, you start at the beginning and tell him about the notes, the phone calls, the bakery box, and how the little, seemingly harmless notes progressed so quickly. He grows grumpier with each word, so you determine you may need to make the ending a bit more interesting for him.
“And then my knight in shining armor showed up and saved the day,” you finish, kissing his cheek. “He’s just a grumpy teddy bear.”
Tim pulls you closer, glad to have your company again. “Tell me things and I’ll be even more of a teddy bear.”
You smile excitedly, so Tim clarifies, “Only for you.”
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gearbroth · 1 year
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funny cowboy and funky frenchman hee hoo
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loupy-mongoose · 6 days
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WARNING:
This comic contains BLATANT depictions of INJURIES, BLOOD, and CHILD ABUSE.
This is not directly related to the current running story, but I was hit with a mood to share some... rather unpleasant character lore...
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butterflyscribbles · 6 months
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Some Donnie angst ? Pretty please? *Does the puppy eyes*
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While I’m not necessarily taking requests at the moment, I went back through my old sketches to see if there was anything I hadn’t posted yet that would suffice.
Had an idea a while ago about Donnie getting injured pretty bad on a solo mission and having to stop off at Jeremy’s place for help. Brooke steps in too, wanting to help as the resident reptile expert…..but gets scared to let him jump back into other potentially dangerous missions long after he’s healed. Try explaining to a little third grader why you risk your life everyday to save the world❤️‍🩹
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months
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5K! Wow, that's so incredible, and I'm so happy for you!!! Congratulations omg
I was wondering if I could request a drabble of Mr Soap MacTavish (2022) where the reader is fixing up his wounds, and he's just staring at the reader with the biggest heart eyes and that's when he says "I love you" for the first time???
—Heart-Eyes
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Being a medic wasn't pretty, but when your boyfriend was the subject under your needle you can't help but enjoy his unwavering gaze. Today, he has something to share with you.] ❞
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You sigh and slip on your sterile gloves, hearing the snap of the latex as they conform to your flesh in all of their blue, tight glory. 
“I warned you they would pull,” your voice levels, exasperation making lines spring to life on your forehead and squiggle. “Do you ever listen to me?” 
“Always, Dearie.” The Scot behind you holds a rag to his head, blood dripping off the corner and slipping down his arm. On his square face, he holds a small smirk. “Now, what I didn’t expect was a madman rushin’ me as he did—didn’t mean to rip all of your stitches, but I was more worried about the knife two inches from my damn eye, if ya understand.” 
You fight down a smile, rolling your eyes before grabbing the handle of the utility cart and turning to face Johnny—raising a teasing brow in the process. 
“I’m fond of my sutures, MacTavish. I hope you know that I’m highly offended right now.” Lips twitching, the mohawked man tilts his head, leaning against the examination table still in gear and with his free hand situated at his neck; handing off his vest’s collar. 
“I’m sure there’s still at least one under here that’ll call to your expertise, Ma’am.”
“There better,” you mumble, fake glaring at your boyfriend of one year. He chuckles, reaching out a hand as you come near and drag your cart with you. 
As if it’s a chore, you sigh loudly and let him bring you into his arms. Your grip wraps around his waist and you sag into the wide frame and his natural warmth—Johnny’s hand spans your back, firm as his thumb lightly moves up and down. 
His sapphire blues soften as he stares down at you, stubble moving back in a smile. You rest your chin on his chest as he lightly presses the rag deeper into his forehead. 
“It’ll scar,” you say slowly. “Especially if it got even more damaged by the fall.” 
“Ah,” he whispers, breath hitting your head as your lashes flutter. Johnny’s chest grumbles with every word, accent deep and rich. “Think I’ll be just as handsome, then? That’s all that’s going to matter.”
You laugh at the exaggeration, lips peeling in a grin. “The most handsome, Johnny. It’s surprising that the entire world doesn’t stand still when you enter a room. Add in another face scar and people will faint when they come near.”
The Scot huffs, but a sheepish sheen splays over his cheeks, and a giddy smile grows when you call him handsome.
“Knew I wasn’t the only one that thought it.” Sharing a laugh, you pull back. The man pouts before you lightly hit his thigh with the back of your hand. 
“Hey!” Johnny grunts out. “Watch the arm, Hen, it’ll leave a mark—”
You kiss him with a grin, feeling the man start forward to meet you with no hesitation and sigh deeply, stubble scratching against your skin in the most delicious way possible. His arm grabs onto your hip and the rag at his flesh loosens—the blood drip-drip-dripping as his fingers dig into your scrubs. 
When his teeth nip your lip, you chuckle into his mouth and lean out of his hold to reach for your supplies. Johnny frowns in false disappointment but still yields to you when you carefully take away his soiled rag to stare at the damage. 
A bloody mess of open skin forms a head wound that makes your face dip with seriousness. Humming in your throat, you lightly touch the area as Johnny winces. You utter an apology and kiss his hand as it comes up to brush at your cheek, unable to be away from you.
“Hm,” the Scot doesn't notice his flinch when you numb the area, the needle digging into the thin skin. All he sees is you. 
“Bad?” He asks, letting you slant from in between his legs and grab the saline solution.
“Nothing you need to worry about, Big Guy.” Softly staring, you prep the area for sutures, oblivious to the pair of eyes that conform to a delicate roundness of tender affection. Like the contents of a great love poem of old, Johnny is distracted from the pain by your supple touch—breathing in your scent like a field of wildflowers as your body lay in his easy clutch. 
Humming a tune under your breath, you let Johnny’s arms encase you, not minding the left-over blood he spreads as your needle driver moves a sterilized needle through lightly tanned flesh. Tissue forceps grab and manipulate where you see fit, but your attention is solely focused on getting your Lover better. 
Johnny breathes deeply, barely feeling the pressure of the digging point. When you’re about halfway done, the man grunts out the easiest words he’s ever uttered to light.
“I love you, Little Lady.” Your eyes flash to a widened stare into his held skin, the needle poking out of his bloody mess of glistening redness. 
It was no trial to anyone to see how much you two loved each other—the entire base was aware of your relationship; the other nurses relentlessly teased you when the only help Johnny would accept was from you or your head doctor. And the Scot had said multiple times the only reason that the doctor was in his book was that, if the injury was beyond what you were allowed to work on, you’d be unable to help unless the individual was there. 
It was in the touches, the kisses filled with warmth and reverence—the way he looked at you. A blind man could notice it just by the way he talked about you on Leave if you weren’t able to join. 
“She’d like that.”
“My Hen would lose her head over this; let me get a picture.”
“Hell’s bells, wait a moment—need to buy this for my Dearie. She’ll put it to good use.”
And you, of course, leaned into him with equal worship whenever able. Reveled in his great weight at night as his head rested on your stomach, Johnny’s body between your legs and lips muttering into your flesh in a deep sleep on his chest. Arms so tight around you his biceps would gain size as if he was flexing and not just pressing you up into him.
But this was the first. 
The first confession. The first declaration of love. 
You don’t know why, but saying it made it feel so much more real. 
Your eyes slide to the side, looking into those deep blues with all of their loveliness; their hues and flecks of stars trapped like ocean waves dancing in moonlight. Wisps of stories you’d yet to uncover. Blinking, your expression evens out as the minute stretches—that look on the man’s face still staying. 
You chuckle softly. 
“Took you long enough, MacTavish.” 
A breathless kiss. A shuttered exhale. 
“...Then I’ll be sure to make you never doubt it.”
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thegunnsara · 1 year
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[CW: Panic attack/Limb loss]
My Bad future stuff is bit all over the place but this couldn't leave my mind once I started, I'm putting it all under read more for CW, it's a bit different approach to the whole krang future but yeah I care a lot about this, I will post more in the near future with more scribbles that aren't exactly lined up but I will do my best. I do plan to illustrate the attack that caused the whole arc too which was actually the spark for the rest of this uhm.. yes ok ..
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So my bad future arc is concentrated a lot on Donnie and Raph being ambushed after there had been a betrayal within the informants and several scribbles here and there for it, how they deal with the aftermath (also that it does have I guess... a better end except ofc Don and Raph do uh... pass away in the end) while I can since I got so much on my plate
I PROMISE IT ISN'T ALL JUST ANGST I just want it to feel real
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arminsumi · 6 months
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HEAR ME OUT JAY— i’ve also been on a gojo kick too😩 i literally have no medical knowledge but thinking of gojo x reader angsty where he has to set one of our broken bones after a battle lowk has me giggling and kicking my feet UGEHHEHEHE
take your time w requests!! take care of yourself, lysm thank you sosososoosos much🫶🏻🫶🏻
blood n' bone.
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note: hey honeypie!! yeah istg gojo has a death grip on my mind the dude doesn't let me think of anyone else rn. anyways, i have little medical knowledge on this too but i tried my best !!
warnings — lowercase used, injury ( knee dislocation, bone setting ), blood visuals, angst ( with fluff, happy ending 👍 ), he calls u angel, i think it might be implied fem reader ??
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" are you okay ?! a—re you hur — oh shit, fuckfuckfuck that's bad. that's bad... okay. um. just breathe. just breathe! don't worry, you ain't gonna die sweetheart. look at me, ok — question. do you trust me ? "
" what on earth do you plan to do ? " you ask gojo wearily.
you look at him, the pain fogs your mind. it's so painful; a blinding, piping white hot pain, one that singes all your senses. it's all you focus on until you look into those soothing blue eyes.
he's hovering over you, eyeing out your knee and the gory scene of your battle-bloodied body. he's got your blood on his hands already. it hurts his heart more than anything to see you in pain.
part of him hates you, because if you had just listened to him and stayed out of this battle, then this wouldn't have happened. but you were so stubborn about staying at his side. and then part of him is thankful, because he didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be without his girl just in case he didn't make it out alive. he didn't want someone else to come to you and bear the news that he's not coming home. gojo was selfish; if he died, he wanted to take you with him.
but he was fine. you were fine. well, "fine" besides the fact your knee was dislocated.
" do you trust me or not ? " he asks again.
" yes. " you say truthfully. of course you did, he's been your one and only since birth; the gojo clan and your clan were intertwined by fate. you and him have been in each other's lives since you were toddlers throwing tantrums.
there's a memory that comes to gojo when he places his calloused hands on your knee. it's a memory from his childhood with you.
one day, you fell and scraped your knees. gojo found you curled up, crying alone in an alley. " what the hell ? why didn't you come find me ? let's go back to my house. i'll carry you. yes of course i can carry you ! i'm stronger than you ! "
he takes his blindfold and puts it in your mouth, " need you to bite on this, angel. "
" hmmmf ?! " the reality of what he was about to do set in. but how could it be more painful than the dislocation itself?
there's no question that he can set your bone. he's the strongest; of course he can.
you watch his bicep muscles flex, his grip firm. he hesitates, breathe ragged like he's nervous. then you hear a loud pop and instantly scream blue murder into the fabric; it doesn't really do a good job of muffling the sound. it pierces gojo's heart.
" angel, angel — look at me. breathe. it's okay. i've got you. it's alright. it's really alright. angel ? there, just stay in my arms like th-this. you're okay now. i know it hurts, but you're okay. " his hair is messy, your blood is all over him, and you yourself look chaotic; but still you look beautiful to him. your face comforts him like no other; he's always had excited pangs in his chest when you walk into a room or show up at a battle.
he's always shared your pain. he's a highly sensitive, emotional boy but conceals it well; when you're in pain, he's in pain. when you're sad, he's sad. when you're happy, he's happy. and hence, if you would have died, he would have died. you're tied together by an invisible thread, the two of you couldn't escape each other even if you wanted to. at times, you hated how you always found your way back to him; especially when you and him had that fallout in your twenties after your dating life interfered with your friendship.
but your hostility towards each other ended, of course it did. and now you and him were always at each other's side. handholding, just like when you were kids exploring your little village.
" let's go home. " he murmurs, soothing you with his voice and the gentle feeling he radiated.
" i can't walk. " you mumble, " it hurts. "
" i'll carry you. "
" we're not little kids anymore, you can't carry me. "
" what the hell ! of course i can carry you; i'm the strongest. "
you smile, remembering that memory only now. " you're right. you are. "
his heart flutters hearing you agree for the first time. of course you always knew he was the strongest, it was indisputable. but you liked to tease him.
" better believe it . . . now wrap those arms 'round my neck. "
he wears a stupid, proud smile on his face while he carries you. when you're home, you feel extremely grateful.
" it's good to be home, huh, satoru ? " you say, knee bandaged and propped up.
he's given you pain medication by now. there's the background noise of the TV, and golden afternoon light sieving through the sheer curtains.
" home is wherever you are. " he says earnestly.
whenever he says things like this, it's always in a soft voice, almost like he's too shy to let you know his true feelings.
you feel warm, homely; and so does he.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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pastelbakugou · 18 days
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This one's for all my long-haired folks that are emotionally attached to their hair. I see you and you're valid. It's not just hair❤️
Shared this drabble idea with Miss @slayfics who prompted me to write it, so here it is~ Thanks for the encouragement, Slay!😚💚
Trigger Warning: Violence and Gore, Mentions of circumcisions, your hair gets cut off, but you get bloody revenge. Reader is written as gender neutral, but is mentioned as being Katsuki's bride. Read at your own risk!
Thinking about Barbarian Prince Bakugou, who was constantly threatening to cut off your hair because of how long it took you to care for it, only to find out what you would have done to him if he had.
You'd just been rescued by the prince and his kind-hearted dragon from a group of bandits, one of which thought your long, beautiful hair would go for a pretty penny on the black market, chopping it off at the base of your neck to sell it without a second thought. You, however, promised revenge on the bastard, who did little to heed your warning.
So when you were freed, you paid the naïve bandit a visit in jail, paying the guards off to turn a blind eye. You came back to the guild outside of the Barbarian village, covered in blood, asking if anyone knew where the local blood smith was located. Once pointed in the direction, you headed off, but not before Kirishima, Bakugou's faithful dragon, wearily asked you what you had in your hand.
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"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to." You replied with a sweet satisfied smile, much different than your angry, distant, demeanor earlier before your visit to the prison. "Oi, I want 'n answer. What is 't?" Katsuki grunted at you, jutting his chin upward as he demanded an explanation. You held what appeared to be a slab of bloody flesh between your fingers, playing with it a bit as you before answering, "It's the foreskin of the penis of the man who cut my hair off." You grinned wickedly, watching the blood drain from Kirishima's face, his skin turning white despite being a red dragon.
Katsuki was no better, air catching in his throat when all of the memories of him threatening to cut your hair flashed across his mind, realizing that if he had gone through with the deed, he would probably be missing a body part as well. "Hm," He huffed at you, crossing his arms over his chest when he realized you were giving him a pointed stare, silently calling him out on his previous threats.
"Good th'ng 'm circumcised." He chuckled, trying to mask any nervousness that had just bubbled to the surface. "Hmm, it's cute that you think that would have saved you." You cooed at him, fluttering your lashes at him. "If he hadn't had a foreskin, I would have take his testicles." You beamed, turning on your heel, heading toward the blood smith as a patron of the guild behind them choked on their drink.
"Who.. Who was that? The patron coughed, dapping their drink dampened chin with a cloth. "That.. is m' future bride." Katsuki grinned, as he watched you prance away with your prize, discreetly, palming the chub growing within his pants.
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Dagger divider by @saradika 
So I just recently discovered that blood smiths are a thing. Apparently you can have blood and other bodily parts made into jewelry as a keepsake or in this case a prize and warning to everyone that you are not to be fucked with🙃
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allelitewrestlings · 3 months
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@KennyOmegamanX: I can’t really sugar coat this. I’m out indefinitely. I tried to keep pushing past the pain for as long as I could until it became too much. Luckily doctors caught me when they did. I’ll be here so in the mean time, please enjoy wrestling!
get well soon, kenny omega!! 🥺❤
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nouearth · 2 months
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why is he so,,,, big,,,, like not sure if i want him to hug me or do smth else idk im intimidated
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animetrashmuffin · 4 months
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Seasons greasons! I participated in the @akatsuki-gift-exchange this year and had the pleasure of doing something based on the excellent prompts from @likorys-shimenawa. I hope you like it, I had a ton of fun doing it!
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