20||ENG||BLACK/NATIVE AMERICAN||ARTIST IN TRAINING 🇵🇸🇨🇩🇸🇩 insta:https://www.instagram.com/swagjedi03?igsh=MWo4dTN3aHc5ejExMA==
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Mayhemkitten11 - The Silly Cave
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cantignorethedystopia reblogged this · 7 months ago
More Posts from Mayhemkitten11
Please follow Seraj, his account is being blocked. He also has a GoFundMe about him and his little sister being sick and needing to evacuate. Please share that and please repost this. 🙏🏽
Hello,I hope you and your family are well.Can you help me Share Or Replog the post my Family on account? 🙏
I Relly Need Your Help To Evacuate Them To A Safe Plece As Soon As Possible Outside Gaza 💔💔.
Verified by @palestinegenocide @queerstudiesnatural @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @northgazaupdates @apollos-olives @riding-with-the-wild-hunt
🍉Link GoFundMe in My Blog🍉 https://gofund.me/b477b817
hello my friend! i have no money to donate on my own but i am more than willing to share your story with the world. blessings of safety and peace to you, your brother, and your mother.
gofvndme
That was the cutest!! I need a Jason!!!! 😡
Hello sanne! I have a request, if it inspires you: what about reader who's been hurt and has amnesia when they wake up. And Jason is there and reader gets all flustered because pretty boy alert!! Pretty boy is speaking gently to them!! And in actuality Jason and reader are together. I hope that made sense 😭 love your writing so so much!!
this is such a sweet request!
jason todd x gn!reader. tw medical setting, reader is on pain meds and has been in an accident, major major fluff, established relationship.
****
The first thing you notice is that your mouth tastes... not good.
You try to swallow and clear out the taste. All that happens is a useless smack of your tongue. Your throat is too dry for any swallowing to happen.
"...been out for about twelve hours. Yeah, I've been here the whole time."
You're pretty sure that you know that voice. You're drawing a blank on that voice's name, but you swear you know the voice.
"They're awake. Yeah, bye."
It's deep and warm and soft and yes. You definitely know the voice.
Okay. Time to try opening your eyes.
You do so with substantial effort. Your vision is bleary. All you can make out are blobs of gray. You've got a lot of eye boogies in your eyes. You can feel them.
But you're not really sure about where your hands are at this moment in time, so the eye boogies will have to camp out for a little longer.
"Hey." The bed shifts. That warm voice gets closer. "Hey, hey. Y'thirsty?"
A straw taps your lips. You clumsily take it and drink until it gurgles and there's no more water.
"Yeah, I'll bet you're thirsty. Want more?"
You shake your head. A cool, rough hand pets your forehead. Oh, that's nice. That's very nice. The bedside manner in this hospital is impeccable. A little forward, but you don't mind. The voice and his hand are both very polite.
Time to try to actually see some shit. You hone in on your vision, putting every iota of brainpower into processing what your eyes are telling your brain.
A figure. A man. Huzzah!
Oh. Oh, wow. A very beautiful man. A big, hulking, beautiful man.
He's young, boyishly handsome. His eyes are bright. A scar is etched from the top of his right temple to his lip. There's a white streak in his dark hair. Is that a trend now? You can't remember.
"Where 'm I?" you ask.
"You're in the Batcave. How much do you remember, honey?" the gorgeous, beautiful, dreamboat nurse asks.
Well, you remember being in a car, and then being ejected from that car, and then hot, blinding pain, and then... waking up.
"Car accident?" you manage.
Pretty Nurse nods. Is he a nurse? He looks more like a biker, with his leather jacket and empty holsters. He looks like he could pin you down with one arm and—
Whoa. Chill.
"Yeah, kinda. There was an explosion. You hit your head pretty hard." He strokes the back of your head, frowning. "How do you feel?"
You feel like your head has an anvil tied to it. But it's okay, because look at this biker-nurse! Wowza!
He takes your hand (you have hands! Huzzah!) and strokes your knuckles with his thumb, which is fine, actually, because he has really nice eyes. You want to tell him.
"You h've nice eyes," you say.
Pretty Nurse blinks, looking startled. His cheeks go a little pink. "Oh. Um, thanks, baby. Y'sweet."
Baby? Do you really have that much rizz as a medical patient? You can't imagine how irresistible you must be when you haven't been in an explosion.
But then everything shatters when you look down and see a silver band on his hand. What the shit! He's married? Or engaged, at least. Son of a biscuit.
And he's flirting with you? What a pig!
You snatch your hand back, suddenly sour. Pretty Nurse raises his eyebrows.
"What's a'matter?"
"You have a ring," you say, voice dripping in contempt.
"I—" He looks down. "Uh, well, yeah. I do."
Devastating. "If you're taken, you shouldn't be flirting with me, jerk."
He squints. "Wh—oh. Oh. Huh."
Pretty Biker Nurse looks like you've just said something funny. You don't see what's so funny about infidelity. May God strike him down!
He smiles coyly. "D'you know who I am, sweetheart?"
"Yes," you say, glowering. "Y'just a no-good philanderer who should be ashamed of hi'self. Don't care how handsome you are; I won't enter your web of lies!"
He laughs, bright and sweet. Damn him! You need a different nurse. This one is the epitome of temptation.
"Oh, baby. Oh, you're too cute. Can I take your hand?"
"Not if you're gonna flirt more," you say, lifting your chin. "Dirtbag."
"Your moral code is incredible, honey. Good to know I'll never have anything to worry about, though I never doubted you. Can I show you something, though?"
He lifts your hand and on your finger is a gold band. More delicately shaped than his ring, but similar.
"Oh my God," you say, panic growing. "I'm cheating on my husband."
He laughs louder this time. "Your fiancé, actually. Wedding isn't till August. And no, honeylove. You're not cheatin', 'cause I'm right here."
He leans in and kisses your forehead. Your hackles raise for a moment until... wait...
"You're my fiancé?" you ask, eyes huge.
He smiles shyly. "In the flesh. Y'remember my name?"
You feel like it's a J name. "J..."
"Jason," he says gently. "Yeah, wow. They got you on some pretty strong meds, huh? Leslie said you should start to remember more stuff in a day."
Jason. Pretty Biker Nurse Jason. Holy moly. He's engaged to you? About to marry you?
"You are so pretty," you blurt.
That makes Jason more shy. He smiles like he's done something he's not supposed to do. "Not as pretty as you, honey pie."
"No, you're... I mean, wow. Sorry I called you a jerk. How did I get with you? That's crazy. You're fine as hell."
Jason snorts, wide shoulders shaking. His cheeks are red. "Jesus, you're shameless."
Well, yeah. You're still not sure this isn't a dream. You have to let your fiancé know exactly what you think about him.
You prepare to tell him something smooth and romantic. Something about how kissable he looks.
"Y'look like a sexy biker."
Hm. Not exactly what you had in mind. Your brain feels like a blue raspberry slushie.
Jason grins. "Oh, yeah? That why you been starin' at me? Didn't know you had a thing for bikers. You're terrified of going on my motorcycle."
How does he know that? It's true; you like bikers from afar but you're not about to get on a death machine, thanks.
"You can rev my engine," you say, head slumping against the pillow.
"Oh my God," Jason says, clearly delighted. "Don't think I've ever seen this reaction to pain meds."
"Can't believe we're engaged," you say again. "How'd we even meet?"
"Well, I'm a vigilante of sorts, and the first time we met was after I saved you from a mugging. And then we kinda just... kept running into each other. You bought me coffee without realizing who I was. And we, uh, fell in love. As people do."
"You proposed to me in Spain," you say suddenly, the memory rushing back. "You... you wanted to prove you wouldn't put work above us."
Jason nods, lacing your and his fingers together. "Yeah, that's right. Three weeks in Spain." He pulls out his phone and shows you the lockscreen. It's of you two. Jason has sunglasses on. You're smiling. You can't remember ever smiling like that before.
Tears suddenly spring to your eyes, emotion smacking into you like an eighteen-wheeler. Jason leans in, concerned.
"Baby? Hey, what's wrong? Something hurts?" he asks, inspecting your head.
Your mouth quivers. "You... you love me so much."
Jason stops, tilting his head. "I... uh, yeah. 'Course I do. You're the person I love the most in the world."
That makes you cry, tears running down your cheeks. Jason's eyes widen in alarm.
"Sweetheart? What's—hey, it's okay. Why're y'crying, huh?"
He brushes your tears away with his thumbs, cradling your face. You sniffle.
"I'm s-sorry I called you a dirtbag," you blubber. "Y'not a dirtbag. You love me so much."
"Oh-ho, oh, honey. Baby, you've been unconscious for twelve hours. You're under heavy medication. I know you didn't recognize me, it's okay. Trust me, I've been called far worse," Jason says tenderly.
Dear God, you're a beast. What kind of person doesn't recognize their own fiancé?! You cry harder.
"I should've remembered you! I'm a bad fiancé," you wail.
"Aw, sweetheart. No, no, it's okay. C'mere."
Jason scoots you over slightly and pulls you into his arms. You cry into his shoulder, slobbering all over his sexy biker jacket. He rubs circles on your back.
"You're really cute and nice and I'm glad y'marrying me," you say, muffled in his shoulder.
Jason hums, the sound vibrating through you. "I'm really happy to be marrying you, sweetheart. You rock my world."
You sniff. "Really?"
"Mmhm." Jason kisses the side of your neck. "How 'bout you sleep a little more, hm? I bet you're exhausted."
Now that he mentions it, you do feel pretty worn-out. Especially after crying. And almost getting blown up.
"Will you be here when I wake up?"
"Absolutely, honey. I swear."
Jason eases you onto your back. Your eyes are beginning to feel heavy.
"Sleep, beautiful. I'm right here."