i said i'm fine, please just drop it. @huntedgod
she watches him, not with judgment but with an EERIE STILLNESS she can't help sometimes. it's made of too-long nights and losses that strangle the psyche too much to be untangled. her hands are steady. always have been, whether wrapping gauze or holding the weight of someone else’s truth, they never hesitate. but now, they rest on the table, fingers curled slightly inward like she’s bracing for something she can’t touch.
I'M FINE. she knows that one. said it herself with a tournoquit pulled taut between her teeth, said it over bodies under fluorescent lights and pools of blood in the sand. she said it until the words stopped meaning anything— so she doesn’t argue. ❛ yeah, alright. ❜ she then lets the silence fill the space like steam in a closed room. thick, warm, unavoidable as her instincts continue to press. slowly, she shifts her weight forward, elbows resting on the table as she presses up and off to her feet.
❛ can you at least let me look at your hand? ❜ her voice is quiet but insistent. ❛ last thing you want is a fight bite. ❜
his voice scrapes at something in her chest — a familiar ache she pretends she doesn't recognize. ❛ mad? ❜ she repeats, a dry laugh hitching in her throat, it's more breath than sound.
she turns finally, slowly, deliberately. her eyes roam, as though searching for hidden pains. the split lip, the bruises blooming under his jaw, the stubborn tilt of his mouth that makes her want to shake him and kiss him in the same goddamn breath. ❛ i'm not mad but fuck — bradley... ❜ voice low and splintered at the edges.
she steps more into his space. clinical precision fades in the gentle brush of knuckles to the side of his face that made it out unscathed. ❛ you can't make me keep watching you destroy yourself. ❜
Bradley would like to be kind to himself and say this is a novel situation, blood dripping after a drink in some dusty bar. It doesn't matter how justified, the sting after, the come down, still fucking sucks.
"It's okay," he shrugs, wincing, breath whistling past swollen lips. "Not my finest hour." Still, Bradley would do this again. He knows he would.
"You mad," he dares to ask, hating that Gloria's still got her back turned. Her voice says enough, but it's her eyes that Bradley wants to see.
❛ you can't let other peoples opinions get in the way of what you want especially because other people suck. ❜
holt & diaz quote starters // @jennifershepard
gloria de lima edits. // mutuals may reblog representation of physical grief, exhaustion, vulnerability and the weight of what she carries. the side of her that few people have the privilege of seeing, the intimacy of these moments is built from trust and understanding or the shared experience. for someone to look at her and accept the worst and most difficult parts of her soul is to truly love her and see her.
hc + birth
HEADCANONS// ACCEPTING
I think theres a few scattered answers for her on that so i'll break those down. or i'll attempt to…
BIRTH ( medically ); it's another procedure she believes isn't taken as seriously as it should be. she was trained as any medic would be while serving but she didn't actually imagine she would be using this skill. she genuinely thought it would be a simplistic ( and horrifying ) as tournoquits, field procedures and stabilization. but when she was dropped into zones that required extra humanitarian aid, it was something she had to do and i think it was an absolute shock. you can say you understand that not every place in the world has the same access to medical care but when it was right in front of her in a hostile zone, you can't ignore it. she's delivered babies unsure of what happens to the mother and baby once they leave, and that gets brought back home with her. those are the moments that stick with her, and it becomes an advocacy point within her profession. if someone comes into the ER ready to pop, she's in there very calmly and focused on providing the best care with the best equipment that simply wasn't a luxury in a war zone. the matter of care for women, in particular within the medical system, is abysmal at best. the most dangerous thing a woman, or any person with the potential to give birth, can do is, in fact, become pregnant and give birth. alternatively, anyone who comes from a state where abortion isn't legal, she's working with efficiency and empathy to make certain the CHOICE is exercised and they are in control of their reproductive health. while i have not written her verse in its entirety, she would certainly be volunteering days and free time to women's clinics, shelters, veterans' hospitals and planned parenthood. this is an aspect she's willing to go to jail for or be reprimanded for.
BIRTH ( personally ): in saying all this, it's still something she wants for herself. she loves children, and her instincts to nurture are incredibly strong, but she doesn't ever imagine it's something she will get to do. the process itself, she would probably approach as very...clinical and almost obsessive in how she suddenly takes better care of everything within herself because she has a soul bound responsibility to her unborn baby.
@medicbled - gloria de lima. combat medic, mercenary, occasional emergency medicine doctor verse pending. @docmohan - doctor samira mohan of max's the pitt. canon & hc driven. @sweets1n - roxana flores. stripper/burlesque dancer, rockabilly baby, religious trauma and heart of pure gold and peach cobbler. @enduredshe - emersyn thompson varela. trafficking survivor, social worker, vigilante and hacker.
∗ 14﹕ sender places their head in receiver’s lap . @nashmed
a rare lull, caught between extremities of boundless chaos. IDLENESS WAS A CURSE for gloria. her body and psyche shaped by battlefronts and flipping off death in the midst of carnage. she’s molded into it, spine rigid with war and pushing through on the home front. loss gathers in her throat, clawing its way up until chokes it all back down. she’ll carry it home and fall apart, save anyone the burden of picking her off the floor. because if she sits with her sorrow long enough, it might bury her.
she’s about to move, about to shuffle back up when the slight weight of a head positions in her lap. she exhales an amused chuff. ❛ you good ?❜ instinctive in how her body shuffles to offer comfort to the other. back of her palm flat against forehead to check for fever — gloria was reminded of her grandmother then, all that was missing was a hearty slathering of vick’s to solve all manner of ailments. unfortunately, they never covered such methods in med school or combat training. ❛ or do you need another second? ❜
FUCK IT. dialogue starter call but it's just rosa diaz and captain holt quotes.
🌶️ SC // @pittmade
weight of the day collapsing on her. days, really, the last twenty-four hours lay over her as a shroud, a haunting in the shape of a double shift. the door closes, and she leans against it, sharp inhale, and the ghost of someone’s last breath is still stuck in her throat. the scent of divinity lingers in the air from his cooking, the sterile horrors fade with the warmth of home. by all accounts, she should eat, she should sleep, she should tuck this grief against the cage of her chest for another time. it's not enough, it's not the kind of sustenance she needs to survive right now. she needs more, she needs real, she needs him. gloria sought out jack like a sinner pines for redemption.
she didn't say anything, didn't have the words. she just reached — hands fisting into his shirt, dragging him down to her. she kissed him like she wanted to tear the breath out of him, like regular oxygen wasn't enough to keep her lungs satiated. fingertips gliding through silver speckled curls, gentle urgency that builds within her, begging for reprieve. between their lips, she breaks with a sundering force and jagged breath.❛ i don't want to think. ❜ forehead falling against his as she clung to him like he was the only reason she could face it all again. ❛ just need you inside me. ❜
❛ your fascination with me will be your death. ❜ Leon / @washsins
a warning? perhaps a favour spoken by toeing the line. gloria breathes it in, lets it settle in the space between them like smoke. heavy, impossible to ignore, and he’s close enough that she could touch him if she wanted to. it’s not the danger that draws her. she’s seen worse, survived worse. but there’s something about him, all sharp edges and old scars, some still bleeding under the surface. she recognizes the kind of violence he carries. it’s not posturing, it’s not a threat, it’s a language she's fluent in. gloria doesn’t know when she started needing him like this. beyond warmth and safety, but for the way his presence drags her back into her own body, sharp and aching and real.
she’s never been good at doing the right thing when her hands are already shaking with want. she could pretend enough, hold up a reflection of the goodness she tries to uphold with a heart-wrenching dedication. how she falls back into the consuming grief, haunted and so unfathomably broken. she couldn't be repaired. ❛ maybe i'll just die wanting you then. ❜ a smile that shouldn't be there, but one that echoes a sentiment she couldn't place. the gallows humour dancing across her lips. ❛ or you could save me the heartache and put me out of my misery now. ❜
it's always a question, always attempting to understand what it's like. WAR & TRIAGE, too similar in how her spine remembers instinct. ❛ it's the terror of knowing what this world's about. ❜ she's too casual about it, a shrug, a chuff of amusement.
lyrical sc// @jennifershepard