#Cough therapy at home

[indianyogaandnaturopathycentre]

6 Best Alternative Medicine for Cough: Try Yourself Now

Coughing is a common issue, often caused by colds, flu, or respiratory infections. While over-the-counter medicines provide relief, alternative medicine for cough offers a natural way to soothe symptoms and promote healing. Let’s explore how you can use alternative therapies, from herbal teas to essential oils, to effectively ease your cough. Why Choose Alternative Medicine for Cough…

[amelia-yap]

haha therapy AU

[cursezoroark]

i adore this scene dearly they are so doomed

[jorvikzelda]

this spring when I got hit with two really horrendous colds like a month apart I was like okay I've learned my lesson now I will always keep a cold survival kit at home. and then I did not in fact learn my lesson

[reasonsforhope]

"The first new treatment for asthma attacks in 50 years has been tested by British scientists.

The injection is more effective than the current method of steroid tablets—reducing the need for further treatment by 30%, according to a new study.

Researchers say their findings could be “game-changing” for millions of people around the world with asthma and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD)—especially because the drug is already available on the market.

Asthma attacks and COPD flare-ups, also known as “eosinophilic exacerbations”, can be deadly—with dozens of people dying every day in the UK after experiencing serious symptom flare-ups, according to official figures.

These exacerbations include symptoms like wheezing, coughing, and chest tightness due to inflammation resulting from high amounts of eosinophils, a type of white blood cell—and they involve almost half of asthma attacks and up to 30% of COPD flare-ups.

Yet medical treatments have barely changed for over half a century, as steroid drugs remained the mainstay of medication.

The downside of steroids like prednisolone, which can reduce inflammation in the lungs, is that they have severe side-effects, such as diabetes and osteoporosis. The treatment also fails many patients who need repeated courses of steroids, or get worse and need hospitalization within 90 days.

Results from the recent clinical trial led by scientists from King’s College London revealed that a drug already available can be re-purposed in emergency settings to reduce the need for further treatment.

“This could be a game-changer for people with asthma and COPD,” said lead investigator Professor Mona Bafadhel, of King’s College.

The team studied Benralizamab, a monoclonal antibody that targets eosinophils to reduce lung inflammation, which is currently used for the treatment of severe asthma—and the trial found a single dose can be four times more effective when injected at the point of exacerbation compared to steroid tablets.

The study, which was published in The Lancet Respiratory Medicine, split people at high risk of an asthma or COPD attack into three groups. One group received benralizumab injection and dummy tablets, another received standard of care (prednisolone 30mg daily for five days) and dummy injection and the third group receiving both benralizumab injection and standard of care.

After 28 days, respiratory symptoms—like coughing, wheezing, and breathlessness—were reduced with benralizumab.

After 90 days, there were four times fewer people in the benralizumab group that failed treatment compared to standard of care with prednisolone.

Treatment with the benralizumab injection also led to fewer follow-up episodes that required seeing a doctor or going to a hospital. There was also an improvement in the quality of life for people with asthma and COPD.

“We’ve used the drug in a different way – at the point of an exacerbation – to show that it’s more effective than steroid tablets which is the only treatment currently available,” said Prof. Bafadhel.

“The big advance is the finding that targeted therapy works in asthma and COPD attacks.”

The researchers say the jab can potentially be administered safely at home, too.

“We hope these pivotal studies will change how asthma and COPD exacerbations are treated for the future, ultimately improving the health for over a billion people living with asthma and COPD across the world,” she added...

77-year-old patient Geoffrey Pointing, who took part of the study, called the injections “fantastic”.

“I didn’t get any side effects like I used to with the steroid tablets. I used to never sleep well the first night of taking steroids, but the first day on the study, I could sleep that first night, and I was able to carry on with my life without problems.”

“Honestly, when you’re having a flare up, you can hardly breathe. Anything that takes that away and gives you back a normal life is what you want.""

-via Good News Network, December 1, 2024

[macgyvermedical]

A Day in the Life of your Character in the Hospital

Yesterday, your character was shot in the lower left side of their abdomen. They were taken to the emergency room and given IV antibiotics, fluids, and then rushed to surgery. Today is their first full day in the hospital.

0600: The surgeon arrives. He's running late and he's pissed about it. Definitely your character's fault. He turns on the light. Without waiting for your character to wake up (he got, like, 2 hours of sleep) he takes the abdominal binder off, revealing a bandage that covers the front of his abdomen. There is some blood visibly seeping through it. The surgeon pulls this bandage off. This is the first time the character sees the new incision. It is probably 14 inches long, and goes down the center of his belly, making a neat little curve around his navel. It is held together with a lot of staples. There is also the place where the bullet went in (and presumably one on the other side where it came out). This is held together with skin glue. The surgeon puts the call light on so the nurse can come back in and re-dress the incision site.

0700: It's been shift change for 30 minutes now, which is how long the call light has been on. A nurse aide comes in and asks what your character needs. She gets a set of vitals and the character asks for pain medication. The incision has started to hurt now that the abdominal binder is off and there i an ache that is deeper too. He also says he's cold. The nurse aid gets him a pair of worn blue scrub pants to wear under his gown and a warm blanket. She says she will tell the nurse that he needs pain medication. She empties his urinal.

0800: The nurse comes in with the pain medication, finally. The character looks at it longingly as the nurse does her assessment, listening to his breathing (breathing in deeply hurts) his abdomen (which seems like forever) and his heart. She takes pulses, asks if he has passed gas yet or feels nauseated. He says no.

The nurse says he has crackles in his lungs, which isn't uncommon for the day after surgery. His temperature is also a little up, but it's also probably because of the small amount of fluid in his lungs from not moving. She hands him a small device called an incentive spirometer and teaches him how to use it. She tells him to hold a pillow against his stomach because it will make him cough. He tries it, it hurts like heck. She tells him to do it ten times per hour. She examines the wound and puts a bandage and abdominal binder back on. Finally, she gives him the pain medication.

0900: The nurse comes back with morning medication. She gives him a medication for his stomach, acetaminophen, and an IV antibiotic, which she explains is given to everyone who has trauma surgery. She says physical therapy and social work will come at some time today and also a cop wants to see him about the person who shot him.

1000: Physical therapy comes in. There are two of them and they are very efficient. One of them walks him in the hall while the other follows behind with a wheelchair. When they get back to the room, he is wiped, but they sit him in the chair and tell him to stay there for as long as he can.

1100: The nurse aide comes by and asks if he'd like to order lunch. He realizes he never had breakfast. "Ordering lunch" turns out to be picking his choice of broth, jello, and flavored ice. He is hungry and asks when he can have real food. The nurse aide says she will ask his nurse.

1200: He "eats" or rather drinks lunch. It is good to have something on his stomach and he's feeling relatively okay thanks to the pain medication. No one has come back to tell him about real food. After lunch, he's really tired and tries to take a nap.

1300: The social worker comes in, wakes him up, and asks a bunch of questions, mostly about if he feels safe at home. Once it's relatively clear this gunshot wound was a one off thing and he won't be going to long term care, she seems to lose interest. She gives him her card and tells him to call her if he needs anything.

1400: The cops come in. There's two of them. They wake him up again. They ask about who shot him. He doesn't have a lot of information to give them and they also seem to lose interest pretty quickly. The nurse aide takes his vitals again. His temperature has come down.

1500: The surgeon's nurse practitioner comes in with his nurse from earlier, opens the abdominal binder again and takes off the bandages to look at the incision site. Nothing has really changed since this morning, but putting on and taking off the binder is a lot of effort and really he just wants to sleep at this point. They ask him how lunch and physical therapy went and he tells them. They ask if he's passed gas yet. Maybe he did? He's not sure. They say they'll probably keep him overnight again for more IV antibiotics and to make sure he can eat. The nurse practitioner listens to his abdomen again, this time it doesn't take as long. They put his bandages and binder back on.

1600: He asks for more pain medication. Once again, it takes about an hour to get. He also gets another IV antibiotic and more acetaminophen. The nurse aide comes by to take his dinner order, which is still clear liquids.

1700: During dinner he passes gas. He puts his call light on to tell the nurse. The nurse aide says she'll pass the message along. A half hour later the nurse sticks her head in and asks if he wants some pudding for dessert, considering it's too late to order anything from the cafeteria but they did change his diet order to full liquids now that things are moving.

1800: He enjoys some pudding and ice cream.

1900: He tries to take another nap, but a new nurse aide comes in to get his vitals again. He manages to fall asleep after that.

2000: He sleeps

2100: His new nurse comes in, introduces herself, does her assessment, and gives him night medications.

2200: He asks for pain medication again.

2300: Just as he falls asleep again, the nurse comes in to take blood. She's a good stick but his arms are already impossibly bruised up from the previous 20 or so sticks he's gotten in the last 36 hours. She still gets him in one try.

0000: He sleeps

0100: He is woken by someone screaming down the hall.

0200: Someone is having a very loud night.

0300: His nurse comes in. His labs came back and his potassium is low. She hangs a bag of potassium on his IV pole and hooks it up to his IV. She tells him it will probably sting, and if it’s too bad to let her know.

0400: The arm with the IV in it aches and he still can’t sleep. The person down the hall has stopped screaming finally at least.

0500: The nurse aide comes in and asks if he would like to order breakfast. All he wants to do is go home.

[mariastorm]

Danny became the head assistant to one Timothy Drake-Wayne after nearly 20 years of being retired from the hero gig. In Danny's opinion,no 16 year old should be managing a multi - million dollar company as a pass time instead the fricking grown adult who owned said company... *cough,cough .....Bruce Wayne.

But then again,what did he know, alot.....he knew alot about Tim and his family of furries...the undead souls of Gotham tended to tell you things if you gave them the chance, he was just some guy in his thirties who had just moved to Gotham just a year ago. He couldn't just walk up to them and offer a free therapy session with his sister to fix the general mess that was the Wayne family unless he wanted the 'batclan' to start paying attention to him and later creeping him out with their stalking. So he chose a more subtle approach ; slowly integrate into their lives and fix their disaster of a family one appointment at a time.

He started off great. Tim began to open up to him in the office as the days went by. They talked in-between work schedules and meetings. He learnt about Tim's likes and dreams,lent an ear when he needed to vent about stuff involving home or school. In a way , Danny had realised somewhere in between that he was slowly mentally adopting Tim as his kid . He ended doing the same thing with the other Wayne children when he met them. Apparently,Tim spoke about him to the others when he was home and they had all gotten curious. Heck he had even met Alfred and they got on like a house on fire . Now he sometimes joins the old man to shop for groceries every other weekend. He had met Bruce as well and let's just say their first meeting involved Danny scolding the hell out of the man for allowing a literal child to manage his company when said child should have been doing child things as well as all the other things and the others had told him Bruce had done. Alfred had patted him on the back after he had finished his speech while the kids had been laughing at their father's expense.

Bruce had surprisingly taken it like a man considering the fact that he was being told off on how to 'parent' by a twink who was his son's assistant and therefore his employee. Danny had expected to be jobless after that fiasco but instead he was invited to dinner that very same week by Bruce himself. Albeit Bruce refused to make eye contact and seemed to have been having a fever as his face and ears were bright red but Danny didn't mind,free food was free food.... Even if he still wonderd why he had spotted Dick and Stephanie spying on them from the hallway with knowing looks on their faces......

Danny didn't even know how but suddenly he was fully involved in their lives; night time hobbies included after they dramatically told him to which Danny had simply responded with an "ya don't say?"and proceeded to go back to drinking his tea with Alfred . Things in the bat-brood were healing nicely;they were talking, bonding and generally starting to look like a true family. A true family with Danny in it. And Danny himself didn't realize this until one fluke .....no.... Two flukes occurred on the night of the biggest gala Danny had ever attended in his halfa life {galas he attended at Sam's mansion included} .

The first fluke ,he had been both happy and embarrassed about.....

Not one or two or three BUT four of the Wayne children had addressed him as 'Dad' . That too in front of a large group of guests and reporters with cameras and recorders . Damien had gone as far as to specify that ,yes they were referring to him and not Bruce..

And the second fluke....

Well, Danny wasn't sure how to feel about that one............

... Bruce Wayne,the bachelor billionaire,the man Danny had come to have a huge slight man crush on,...........

.

.

.

Kissed Danny. Right on the lips. On the balcony.

And Danny being a complete idiot had hiccuped then used his invisibility to hide and later run all while forgetting one tiny thing..

He hadn't told the batclan about his secret yet..and honestly??

Danny blames Clockwork.

[stevie-petey]

episode four: the sauna test

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.  “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!

-

Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight. 

He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve. 

Especially Steve. 

Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.

Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late. 

Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.

Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”

You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.

Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”

“It’s fun for me.”

You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.

Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”

Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”

The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”

“Well, do we need a code blue?”

You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”

Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”

“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”

Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”

“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”

Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”

“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”

Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.

It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”

“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.

“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.

“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.

“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.

You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath. 

When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers. 

“Hello?”

You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”

There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”

“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling. 

“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed. 

“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”

He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”

“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”

– 

Your day only gets worse from there.

After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find. 

Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”

She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”

“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands. 

“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” 

Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”

You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”

“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”

You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats. 

Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”

“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What’s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”

The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”

–

You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you. 

“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”

You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use. 

Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears. 

This was supposed to be a good summer. 

Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room. 

“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.

You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”

“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.

Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”

Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”

“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”

“Listen, that doesn’t count.”

“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”

He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”

“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve. 

“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.

Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”

You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”

“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.

As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”

He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”

“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.

“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.

“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”

You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”

Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!” 

As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”

Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”

“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at. 

“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”

He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.

It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes. 

As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why. 

Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”

You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”

“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”

Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom. 

Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Sure did, angel.”

You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak. 

“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.

Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”

“Did something else happen?” 

You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”

Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”

You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”

“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.

“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”

“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”

“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles. 

It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling. 

And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.

Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”

Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.” 

“Nancy?”

“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”

“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”

You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”

She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself. 

“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”

There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”

“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”

You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”

“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.

“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”

Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”

Well, fuck. 

“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”

Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan. 

“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”

You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”

“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”

Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”

The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up. 

Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.

Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy. 

“I’m sorry, angel.”

Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now. 

So much for an easy summer.

– 

“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.” 

Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”

She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”

“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you. 

“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”

You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”

“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.

“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”

Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”

The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust. 

Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces. 

“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”

“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”

Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”

“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”

“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.

“No you will not.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?” 

“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.

Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”

“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”

“But–”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”

You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”

The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”

“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.” 

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”

“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. 

“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.

Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”

All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him. 

They look ridiculous. 

“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”

You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something. 

“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”

Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”

“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”

“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began. 

You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life. 

But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it. 

You stand below her, helpless. 

“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions. 

“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks. 

Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl. 

You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”

Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.

Once again, you’re the odd man out. 

None of this is what you want.

“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae. 

“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.

Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”

He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”

You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”

Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–” 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”

“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”

Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”

“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe. 

“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”

“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.

You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name. 

“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”

After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache. 

“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”

Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts. 

“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats. 

– 

It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against. 

“This is excessive, even for you.”

You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”

After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”

Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”

“Ask questions later.”

Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.

“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.

“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”

You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”

Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?” 

“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort. 

“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”

You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”

Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”

“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.

The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe. 

If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner. 

“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”

“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now. 

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” 

“Any guards?”

Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”

You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location. 

However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”

“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”

“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side. 

You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”

Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault. 

That beats Demodogs any day. 

You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”

Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.” 

While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”

“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”

Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”

She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”

You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.

When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”

“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.

“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.

“That’s a weird way of saying ‘you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.

Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”

Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time. 

Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either. 

He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this. 

“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts. 

You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”

Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”

Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”

As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet. 

Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.

Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”

“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.

A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so. 

“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.

“Just press the damn button, nerd.”

You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”

“Press ‘open door’.”

Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge. 

Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”

You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”

Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.

Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you. 

Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.

-

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[pathologicalreid]

Dude I love ur writing sm!! It’s literally so good and Buried Alive was amazing! If ur down for it (totally no pressure at all) I was wondering if u would eventually write a second part where Spencer helps the reader with the aftermath? Like maybe they struggle with PTSD or severe claustrophobia after that? Idk ur literally amazing enough I’m sure u have great ideas and again, it’s completely up to u, I was just wondering

above ground | S.R.

part one part three

in which spencer helps you cope with the aftermath of your abduction, and you reciprocate

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: hurt/comfort, angst

content warnings: claustrophobia, being buried alive, nightmares/night terrors, ptsd, death, cpr, use of pet names, mentions of drugs, therapy, suffocation

word count: 2.2k

a/n: hello anon! i am absolutely always down for spencer reid hurt/comfort!! thank you so much for asking!!! i've been super overwhelmed with all of the support i've received on buried alive and i'm so so grateful for all of the kind things people have said.

Standing in a dark room, you looked around your surroundings. There was nothing around you that told you where you were. The walls were all blank, the ground was cement, and it was too dark for you to even see the ceiling.

Hesitantly, you reached out your palm, touching the wall just for it to be met with something… damp? You pulled your hand away, and your skin came back dirty. Your stomach churned as you observed the soil that had settled in the creases of your fingerprints. “No,” you breathed, quickly moving to dig at the walls.

You felt it on your elbow next, like the dirt walls were encroaching on you. You turned around to see the dark room was just getting darker, and the walls started to deteriorate. Like an avalanche, the dirt of the walls falls to the ground, covering your feet, “No,” you cried out this time.

Digging at the walls just made your earthly prison bury you faster, so instead, you tried to climb toward the ceiling. You whimpered in defeat as you reached the previously unseen ceiling. The loose earth reached your chest, constricting your breathing. You tilted your head back in an attempt to keep the dirt out of your mouth.

Your face felt cool like a gentle breeze was being blown on it. You choked, but to your surprise, you didn’t choke on dirt.

            There were hands on you, one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist. That didn’t make sense to you, someone hauled you into a sitting position, patting your back in an attempt to help you clear your throat.

            The choking turned to coughing, which then turned to dry heaving off the edge of your bed. Very rarely did anything ever come out, but you kept a trash can there just in case. You blinked as someone reached over and turned on the lamp on your bedside table, the comforting hand remained on your back.

            Desperately, you tried to catch your breath, tilting your head back as you tried to open your airway. “You’re safe. I’m right here, angel,” Spencer whispered from behind you, he leaned his forehead between your shoulder blades and drew hearts on your back with his index finger.

            You took a deep, shuddering breath as you finally filled your lungs, visualizing the air going in and out of your body. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

            Spencer continued whispering to you, not once did he tell you that your dream wasn’t real because it was real. To you, being buried alive was very real. The suffocation was real, it had happened to you.

            Two months ago, you had been abducted and buried alive by a family, a mother and her two sons. All of whom were in jail awaiting trial. The two agents from the Omaha field office who had left you alone in the funeral home apologized profusely, you had a private meeting with the director of the FBI, and the BAU rallied behind you, it was nice, but none of it made the fear go away.

            The first nightmare came the same night you were back in Virginia, and you had screamed so loud that your neighbors called the police. Spencer handled everything, and when the officers insisted that they needed to speak to you directly, he flashed his FBI credentials, something he really wasn’t supposed to do.

            Your response was to avoid sleeping, at least at night. You stayed awake at night, reading, or watching TV with headphones on, and you slept during the day so that when you opened your eyes, you could feel the sun on your face. The problem was when you needed to go somewhere, you didn’t sleep, or when it rained, you didn’t sleep.

            The exhaustion just made your anxiety worse, and Spencer caught on to it. He sat you down on the couch and held your hands, telling you that he understood that you didn’t want to feel like you were burdening anyone with your nightmares, but he needed you to understand that you were killing yourself at the same time.

            He didn’t do it for everyone, but for you, Spencer took over the role of protector. He found you a therapist in the district that specialized in patients with PTSD and claustrophobia. It was an hour round trip, but Spencer was more than willing to take you the first few times.

            Dr. Montgomery quickly diagnosed you with PTSD and claustrophobia. You hadn’t realized that claustrophobia was something you could be clinically diagnosed with, but the doctor told you that there’s a difference between a fear of enclosed spaces and what you had. He was straightforward, which you liked, and he told you that your claustrophobia was a response to the traumatic event that you had experienced.

            A steady course of treatment that included medication and exposure therapy had slowly been giving you your life back.

            But then there was Spencer.

            Spencer had Morgan help him take the inside doors of your apartment off the hinges so air would flow, and you wouldn’t be afraid of suffocating. He left the ceiling fan in your bedroom on even as the weather cooled so the air never got stale.

            Six weeks ago, you had mentioned offhandedly that you were having a hard time sleeping in total silence, and Spencer had come home later with a white noise machine.

            When you apologized to him for needing the lights on to sleep, he responded by stringing lights around the entire apartment, telling you he read that warm light can help prepare the mind and body for sleep.

            He turned in all of his PTO, even accepting some from David Rossi, who didn’t use his anyway, so he could stay home with you while you were on mandatory medical leave. He tagged along to therapy appointments, to the neurologist, and even to the FBI physician who needed to clear your physical injuries to your ribs before you could return to the field.

            On his nightstand, there was a stack of books all about claustrophobia and loving someone with PTSD.

            Not once through this whole endeavor did you question your relationship with Spencer, he made himself perfectly clear through his actions. He wasn’t going anywhere.

            The FBI physician cleared you two weeks ago, your neurologist faxed Hotch paperwork stating you were without any deficits, and your psychiatrist told you that as long as you felt like you could avoid your triggers, you should be able to go back to work. In fact, Dr. Montgomery thought going back to work could be beneficial.

            You were supposed to go back tomorrow.

            Spencer was now sitting in front of you, and he offered you a small smile as you blinked yourself out of your nightmare-induced stupor and met his eyes, “There’s my girl,” he whispered. For a moment, you focused on his movements, smoothing your hair back with one hand and leaving the other hand resting on your waist. “I love you. You’re safe, you’re at home with me,” he reassured you.

            You narrowed your eyebrows, “It was- I was in the ground again.” Hesitantly, you looked down at your hands, they were perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt to be seen.

            “It was a night terror, angel,” he said, speaking gently to you as he reached over and pulled the strap of your tank top up and over your shoulder from where it had fallen. A night terror, not a nightmare.

            Tears dropped down your face when you closed your eyes. “I couldn’t breathe,” you whimpered. Taking a gasping breath, you looked at Spencer as you tried to draw air into your lungs, “I couldn’t breathe, Spence. I couldn’t breathe.”

            Quickly, Spencer pulled you into his lap and held you, “Shh,” he cooed. “I’ve got you, my love. I’m right here,” he murmured as you set your chin on his shoulder and cried.

            “I suffocated,” you whispered, it was a fact of your life, that you had stopped breathing for a period of time. The doctors estimated you had been down for almost ten minutes.

            His hold on you tightened, “I know,” his voice broke slightly. “I know, baby,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “What do you need?” He asked, watching you intently as he reached up and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

            You blinked the last of your tears from your eyes before meeting his, “Can we go outside?” You asked him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders.

            Spencer nodded, leaning over to grab his glasses off of his nightstand before standing up and picking you up as he went.

            Instinctively, you yelped, but a laugh escaped your lips. It was a foreign feeling sometimes, but Spencer always knew how to elicit a smile from you. “Put me down,” you said, but your tone was light.

            Once your feet were touching the ground, Spencer looked at you, “I just wanted to see you smile.” He said earnestly.

            Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirked up, “Thank you.” You reached over to grab your phone off the charger and slide it into your pocket before you led Spencer out to your apartment’s balcony. He sat down on one of the chairs and pulled you down onto his lap.

            You let him hold you, not moving and just letting your body settle on top of his. The cool autumn air filled your lungs as Spencer held you. You let him hold you because you knew that his fear was just as valid as yours. While you were afraid of confinement because you had been confined, he was afraid of you dying because you had died.

            “I can hear you thinking, honey,” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” You asked him, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers together.

            He sighed, “I’m worried about you,” he admitted. “I want to tell you not to go back to work yet, even though I know that logically it’s the next step for you,” Spencer said, you watched his honey-colored eyes as they studied your face. “And I know that you need it, you need to return to something dependable.”

            You move your head so you can look him in the eyes better, “But?”

            “But,” he continued, “the BAU isn’t dependable. You have this great routine that we’ve very nearly perfected and I’m so worried about you straying from it. The long hours at work could very well cause you to lose all of the progress you’ve made in the last two months,” he tells you candidly. “What happens when you need to get on an elevator, or when you need to get on the jet, and you can’t? What about when you-“ He cut himself off, swallowing thickly before he said something he couldn’t take back.

            You shifted so you were facing him, shoulder to shoulder, “What is it, Spence?”

            He took a deep breath and cupped your cheek with his hand, “The last case you worked on, you died. I pulled your dead body out of a casket. Fuck, Y/N,” his curse took you aback, he usually strayed from swearing. “I did CPR on you before Morgan took over,” he finished, voice growing hoarse.

            Your lips parted; you couldn’t answer him. You didn’t know how to answer him, but you took his hand and selected his third and index finger before pressing them to the pulse point on your wrist. In response, he sighed and leaned his forehead to yours. You watched his lips move as he silently counted the beats per minute.

            The both of you jumped when your phone went off, and dread filled your stomach when you checked your phone.

            Penelope Garcia: Local case. Round table room in thirty if you’re up for it.

            “If you ask me to stay home, I will,” you told Spencer, sweeping his curls behind his ears. “I won’t hold it against you, I’ll tell Hotch I need more time.”

            Spencer shook his head, “You know I can’t do that. I can’t make that decision for you, and I don’t want you to make the decision for me, you need to choose what you want.”

            You both went, Spencer distracted you for the entire elevator ride up to the BAU, but he was still tense. Even though he insisted he was fine, you knew him better than that.

Spencer followed you up to Hotch’s office and when you told Hotch you wanted to work but you didn’t feel ready to be in the field, your unit chief nodded and told you that you were welcome to stay in the local precinct and work on a geographical profile with Spencer.

            You watched the tension leave Spencer’s body. He tried to tell you that you didn’t need to do that, but you just rolled your eyes and dragged him to the roundtable room.

[twodimensionalboyfriend]

Sick </3

wc: ~1.3k read time: ~5 minutes

༉‧₊˚.¸♡ master list✧ '*•༉

cw: fluff! smooches here and there i guess! gn throughout! also not proofread lol

I have fucking covid!! my bones are on fire!!!

on a serious note, i have never been sick like this before in my life, i had the worst skin and joint aches i'd ever had in my life and my head felt like it was going to explode with pressure and my ears are still fuckin clogged. so anyways im gonna project my problems into this fic in the order in which i experienced them as a form of therapy and if anybody else is out there sick rn, i hope you have a jason todd to make it bearable!

On a silly note, I met a stray cat in the neighborhood the other day but she's been spayed! im hoping this is the cat distribution system at play

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you groaned.

You're sitting on the couch trying to convince your boyfriend that you're not sick. It's just allergies! Allergies that come with body aches, pressure in your head, and now a fever.

Jason showed you the thermometer, "Dude, you're running at 100.1..."

You looked at the thermometer incredulously, "Isn't that thing super old? I mean how do we even know it still works? Take it again."

Jason sighed and scanned your forehead again, "Babe, we bought this a couple months ago." He glared at you as he showed you the thermometer again, which now read 100.2.

"Tch, that's barely even a fever," you said rolling your eyes.

"That's it. You're going on bed rest."

"Woah, what?? Jason, I told you I'm fine! Besides I have so much to do today. We need groceries, I have a prescription to pick up, there are so many dishes in the sink, I have laundry to fold and I have work this evening. A little cold isn't... what are you doing?" You cut yourself off as you saw Jason typing on his phone.

"Thanks for the to-do list! While you rest, I'll go and get this done. Grocery list is on the fridge and our pharmacy is in the store, so text me if you need anything else. I am more than capable of doing dishes and laundry, so you don't have to worry about that. And I love you, but you're crazy if you think you're going into work tonight. Text your boss a picture of the thermometer and call out. Or I'll do it for you, whatever you prefer."

"Ar-Are you sure? I mean it's..." You trailed off. You really did feel like shit and it's not like you necessarily wanted to do these errands and chores. After a moment of thinking, you sighed and relented, "Okay, fine, only if you're completely sure you can handle it."

"(Y/N), I'm an adult. If I couldn't do laundry, you should be worried about me." You tried to laugh a little, but it quickly snowballed into a coughing fit, "Woah woah, take it easy. I'm gonna take the list and go to the store. Again, text me if you need anything or if you just wanna say hi," he said with a smile.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you whispered, "Thank you, Jason. I love you very much."

"I love you too, I'll be back soon."

--------

The front door swung open and Jason's voice rang through your shared apartment, "Honey, I'm home!"

You couldn't have gotten up if you tried. You're sickly moan from the couch alarmed Jason, and he dropped the groceries and ran to your side.

You were lying on the couch in your spiderman sweats and a hoodie; your arms draped over your eyes to block out the white lights from the kitchen that added to your headache. Your entire body ached like it never has before. The sight squeezed Jason's heart. "Oh, honey," he said sympathetically, pressing his hands to your cheeks, "Woah, you are burning up! Hang on." He snatched the thermometer from the coffee table and tested his partner. The screen lit up red. It read 101.7.

You mumbled, "H-Holy shit..." It was a bit too much to talk right now.

"Okay babe, I got you some chicken noodle soup because that's what Alfred always made us, and I don't quite have his cooking skills--and this is, uh from a uh... a can--but I'm gonna make some for you, and that should hopefully make you feel better," he looked at you with worry. "Then would you want to watch Pride & Prejudice while I folded the laundry? The movie obviously, since you like it. Even though the show is better," he grumbled at the end.

God damn it. You were crying again.

You were experiencing so many different emotions you didn't really know what else to do. You loved Jason so much and felt so much gratitude for the way he was taking care of you. As if there was nothing else he could possibly be doing right now other than be here. This is on top of the fact that you've been in agony for the past hour as you got worse and worse; and you were really tired of feeling that way.

This shocked and scared Jason, "I'm sorry!! The movie isn't that bad! I just like that the show's more accurate to the book! Also, when Lizzie runs through the rain, why does she grab a soaking wet cloth from the very same rain storm to dry her hair?! I'm sorry I just--"

"I love you so much," you croaked out. "I also feel like fucking garbage."

This put Jason at ease and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm sorry you feel like shit, sweetheart. I do this because I love you too. Like, a lot. Now stop talking and spare your voice. Let's get you cozy and hopped up on vitamin C, and we'll just take it easy."

-----------------

The next morning, you woke up. You sat up slowly and realized most of the pressure in your head is gone. Your body no longer felt like it was on fire! Definitely still congested though. You also realized you fell asleep on the couch after the first proposal, yet you were currently sitting in your bed. Jason must've brought you in. Suddenly, a sneeze crept up and exploded out of you. Then another. Then one more. Jesus, that hurt your chest.

Your fit was loud enough to let Jason know you had woken up. He came into the room holding a spatula. The opened door let in a sweet smell and a sizzling sound. "How are you feeling, baby?" He walked towards you.

"Well I can bear to be conscious, so I'd say much better. What's going on in the kitchen?"

He pressed his hand to your forehead and said, "Pancakes! And lots of orange juice. I don't think you’re in the clear yet. Sit tight; I'm gonna get the thermometer and take your temperature."

Ignoring his request, you got up to meet him in the living room. You stepped out of the bedroom and was met with the sight of Jason discarding the pancake that had burned due to his doting. He saw you walking towards him and urged you to go back to bed, "Go back! I'm gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Pancakes, juice, fruit, the whole shebang."

"No it's okay, let me be out here with you. I'd kiss you good morning, but I fear I might poison you and get you sick."

Jason stole a quick kiss, much to your surprise, "I spent all night with you. If I were to get it, I don't think a kiss would be what seals my fate. You're plate is ready, by the way."

He handed you a plate stacked with 3 pancakes and a butter slice, drizzled in maple syrup with strawberries and whipped cream. It was beautiful, "Oh my god, Jason, that's so gorgeous I don't think I can eat it." Your stomach growled and promptly gave away your true feelings.

"Tear it up, baby girl."

You sat down as Jason finished making his stack. He sat down with you and you both began eating. Pre-packaged pancake mix has never tasted so good.

"Thank you for nursing me back to health, Jason. You've made this past few days in unbearable hell feel more like a manageable limbo."

He laughed, "What else was I supposed to do? Let the love of my life suffer?"

"God I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you in my life."

"Well, fortunately, you'll never have to." He leaned over the table and pressed a syrupy kiss to your lips.

if there are an content warnings you think i missed, please tell me so!! i’ll add them to this post and remember to add them to future ones!! :) ♡ ♡

and pls pls like and reblog and reply!! literally if you interact i will kiss you on the mouth

[https-furina]

okay okay so, since im already on the angst train and i want to hurt myself today, hear me out:

you and your lover are out doing wtv and you're ambushed and then, naturally, you guys fight the enemies right?

okay so you get hurt and youre losing a lot of blood and your lover realizes this and is completely heartbroken bc you dont have much time, the wound is deep

so um yeah the reader dies in their lover's arms basically, with albedo, heizou, kazuha, wanderer, xiao and kaeya

theres so many characters im curious abt so please take your time mwah

(ps: i will not pay anyone's therapy okay i need it myself, my condolaences for hurting you)

✎ i wasn't ready to say goodbye [various men - part one]

ft. albedo, aether, heizou, kazuha, wanderer, xiao & kaeya x fem!reader

content: do i need to say angst? i'm so sorry. major death + blood warnings. implied that reader can handle a weapon in most of them - unspecified if reader is a vision holder. hurt with absolutely no comfort. semi-spoilers for scaramouche/wanderer's story (end of the sumeru archon quests.)

notes: we added aether last second in the discord bc we summoned aki ( @kazumist - aly wanted you tagged ) some of them are awful and ooc i'm so sorry - officially managed this in just over 24 hours!

albedo treasures you more than he cares to admit verbally. it shows in all of his acts of love through physical means, lingering touches and making sure you're warm whenever you visit him on dragonspine. he hates you visiting him as much as he loves you - it's merely because it puts you in extreme danger every time. there's the temperatures, the wildlife, the lack of oxygen and of course, there's the monsters lurking around every corner of the inhabited mountain.

as the chief alchemist for the knights of favonius, there's always a warrant for albedo's life one way or another. the fatui are eager to stop his research - or steal it, maybe both.

there's a silence except for the howling winds that circle the snowy mountain. you're struggling to breathe, to get the sharp air into your lungs as you lowered your sword slowly. not far away, your boyfriend is finishing off the final fatui soldier, blood splattering onto his sleeve before he turns to face you. is it just you or does albedo look even more beautiful right now? you furrow your brows in confusion. albedo looks like he's seen a ghost, colour flushing from his face when he rushes forward. your knees give way under you and he barely manages to catch you in his arms, kneeling as he lets you lay against him. "bedo, love?" you mumble, unsure as to what's happening. you can hear the roar of your blood in your ears, your heart is beating whilst the adrenaline still pumps through your body. albedo hushes you softly, pupils dilated when he looks at your wound. "h-how do you feel?" his voice cracks when he asks the question, a gloved hand applying pressure to your side. you wince, the adrenaline is starting to fade and you feel faint. there's a cold sweat glistening on your forehead when you look down at where albedo's hand is, seeing the blood seep through your clothing. it's albedo's turn to watch your expression drop, your world starting to spin and mix together when the adrenaline is gone and you're aware of what happened. it feels as if there's a lump in your throat but when you try to cough it up, only blood spills in a small trickle out of your mouth. "love-" there's another cough, the blood is running down your jaw as albedo's hands start to shake. he has no means of saving you out here, you're nowhere near camp and he can't leave you here while he gets help, "i want to go home..." your voice is weak, trailing off and albedo isn't sure if he should let the tears brinking his ocean coloured eyes fall as your breaths become raspy. chapped lips open and close, trying to find the words to reply to you but all he can muster is a weak "we're going home, dear" when your chest ceases to rise again. his breathing is jagged, clutching you close to him as if you’ll disappear for good when he lets go.

aether clings to you like ivy to a brick building. you give him hope in this search for his twin sister - one he's beginning to think is failing, day by day. you reassure him, that bright smile and sparkling eyes setting him on the right path. he's certain he would have gave up ages ago if it wasn't for you. but aether realises that he is constantly in danger. you love to adventure with, crossing the rolling hills of mondstadt and gawking at the grand mountain peaks of liyue that pierce through clouds.

it was only so long before he faced the repercussions for so willingly letting you travel with him, tearing his hope away in the blink of an eye.

"a-aether?" your voice is wavering, aether is confused. you've been travelling with him for so long now, what could possibly have scared you about some hilichurls? but he turns to face you, blade at the ready - ready to protect you. his eyes fall on the arrow lodged in your chest, your eyes wide in fear as you stare at him in panic. it was already too late to protect you, he'd failed himself. aether drops the sword in his hand, paying no mind to how it clutters on the gravel below you both when he's rushing forward to ease you to the ground. you're stable - awake but for how long? you're in shock, it's going to fade and you'll succumb to the blood reddening your attire. aether swears lightly under his breath, unable to look you in the eyes out of pure guilt; this was his fault, he hadn't protected you. now not only had he lost his sister, he'd lost his partner too. "it hurts to breathe," you mumble, your eyelashes are fluttering gently. the sun behind aether is starting to burn at your eyes, "aether why are you crying?" the blond isn't even aware of the salty tears that glisten in the sunlight when they roll down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw and onto your shoulder where aether has laid your head onto his lap. it's comfortable, just as it always is. on days where you needed a break from walking, aether would often let you lay like this under a nearby tree. the thought makes aether choke out a sob. you smile sadly. "you can't leave me too," your hand cups his cheek, thumb weakly stroking at the tearstained skin when he hiccups, "no, this isn't fair." there isn't civilisation for days and he can't keep the arrow lodged in your chest nor does he have the means of stopping the blood if he pulls it out. aether is at a loss, unable to do anything while he watches the damage done to you internally take you from him beneath his own hands. "hey, you'll find her." you sound so certain, just as you always do and aether watches that positive spark die from your eyes when your breaths turn to rasps and he finds himself yelling at your body - at the sky, at anybody! he yells and yells, hoping someone listens to his cries for you to wake up. wake up, please.

heizou believes that of all the cases he's cracked, you're his favourite. he's read every line written into your skin as you age, the blemishes that litter your body and tell tales untold. you were his favourite mystery but now he had you like a stained glass window, beautiful and on display. although as a detective, heizou has destroyed many more lives than he is keen to admit. his suspects have families - lives, presumably before he has them in jail or worse, life sentence.

their families are hurt, angrily in denial that their own blood could commit such vile atrocities. heizou took something precious from them, what was stopping them from doing the same to him in an act of revenge?

heizou is more than used to his routine of coming home to you, being able to drown in the comfort of your arms after a long day of work. he's disturbed by the front door being open but albeit it's the peak of summer in inazuma, the humidity is drowning you, especially if you're not native to the islands. you're not quick to greet them when he steps in however, in fact he can't even see you. the house is untouched but the silence is deafening. "i'm home," heizou calls out, brows knitting together when he doesn't hear you chime his name back excitedly, "love?" the silence is killing heizou, it's unlike you at all but then he hears it, the meek sound of you calling his name out back. it sounds like you're in the bedroom and with a relieved smile, heizou finds himself heading to find you. but verdant eyes fall on the red smeared on the walls, staining the bedsheets and pooling around you. the relief is gone and his body is tense with dread as he drops the case files he'd been holding, quick to kneel with you and hug you close when you reach for him. "what happened?" his voice is panicked, he's barely breathing when he feels your blood soak through his clothes. he's searching you for your wound, shaking, "love, answer me." your chapped lips open but nothing seems to come out, you feel cold to the touch and all you can do is stare up at heizou. you knew the moment you was attacked that this was it for you but your biggest fear wasn't death, it was heizou. it was your witty detective, keen and full of intuition that he prides himself in; it was whether you'd see him one last time before your heart put in its final beat. heizou doesn't take your inability to speak lightly, letting out a flurry of curses that makes your brows furrow in distaste. you wasn't fond of him swearing when he got stressed but as you watch a tear fall down his cheek, you know you can't argue about his tongue anymore. he has every right to be mad when your bloody hand reaches up for him, the warm palm of his hand quick to grab your hand and coat his fingers. "i love you," you mumble, raspy and heizou is quick to shake his head - conserve your energy, "don't cry please." "you're not allowed to leave me," he chokes out, his lower lip tugged between his lips as his spare hand presses on your wound to try stop the bleeding. you wince but heizou doesn't lighten the pressure in fear, "i'll find who did this." your lips curl up at his words and heizou leans to press a kiss to your forehead, which is clammy and covered in a light sheen. by the time he pulls away, he's the only one left breathing in the room. heizou's shaking hands cup your cheeks, eyes darting around the room when he doesn't quite know what to do. he's used to this - the blood, the smell, the touch of a lifeless body but not when it's you. not when it's the love of his life. he wails in anguish, the taste in his mouth bitter when he swears revenge on whoever took you from him.

kazuha took his time warming up to you when you first met. you didn't blame him, you'd heard the tale of his late friend from captain beidou when you first came onboard the alcor. but your patience with him warmed his heart quicker than expected, leaving you inseparable as you travelled with the crew. even on land, kazuha was joined to your hip. he claimed he was there to protect you and that excuse expanded tenfold when you started dating.

he should have never taken his eyes off you, simply searching for firewood shouldn't have consequences like this.

when the last treasure hoarder falls limp to the dusty ground, kazuha finds himself enveloping you in his arms, eyes frantically scanning your face for signs of pain. you're unresponsive, eyelashes shut but your breathing is shallow while your body fights the unexpected blood loss. "fuck," he whispers, much out of his comfort zone when he's trying to find exactly where your wound is. your blood is staining his skin, getting under his nails where it'll haunt and remind him of what happened for weeks, "y/n? love?" your brows knit as if you can hear him but he's unsure if you're just reacting to the pain. your body is most likely in shock and kazuha is running out of time before the shock fades and you're left in excruciating pain until your last breath. the thought makes kazuha feel sick. he was gone for at least ten minutes, how did he lose you so quickly? he shouldn't have told you to stay at camp by yourself. you'd offered to go with him but kazuha trusted you'd be safe without him, even just for a few minutes. his face turns sour at his own thoughts. how foolish had he been to think you'd have been safe without him? "i-i love you," he stutters out, voice cracking as he presses a kiss to your head, burying his nose in your hair when he tries to blanket himself in your scent - begging to the archons that he'll wake up in bed, "come on, let's go back to the alcor, beidou will get help." he's speaking to you in the softest of tones, his voice hushed as to not disturb the silence of the countryside - or attract more unwanted attention. carefully, kazuha raises himself to his feet with you in his arms. he sees tomo in you for a moment, forcing himself to swallow when there's a suffocating lump in his throat. by the time kazuha has stumbled back to the alcor, beidou rushing over with her face void of colour, your heart is no longer thudding against your ribcage. kazuha will never again hear your heartbeat when he lays his head on your chest or feel your pulse in your wrist when he grabs hold of you.

wanderer figured it was foolish to fall in love after all he'd gone through. what was love when you've been betrayed so many times before? when the archons have so harshly ripped the ones you love away from you? he likes to scowl and shun the premise of love until he met you, an adventurer from the guild assisting in vahumana darshan commissions. you would stubbornly strike conversations up with him, following him as he walked away until he finally caved and would reply.

was it foolish to fall in love or rather was it foolish to place his fragile trust back in the hands of the archons?

his ears are ringing, was mawtiyima forest always this loud? no, it's not even loud - it's silent. the silence is buzzing in his ears, driving him insane as he watches you cough blood onto the dirt. you'd been tasked with clearing out the treasure hoarder camp within the glowing forest - but wanderer isn't stupid. to let you do that alone? he'd be a mad man. but now he isn't too sure if he should have tagged along. would it have hurt him less to find out you'd passed away out on a commission through the guild? or is it hurting less to watch as you splatter that precious red that you humans rely on all over the ground? wanderer finds himself barely able to utter a word. that's rare, he usually has something to say in that stark, rude tone he never explicitly dropped. it made him cold, it stopped people approaching and getting close. why didn't it work against you? "w-why are you looking at me like that?" you croak out, pupils dilated and staring at him in concern. he's as pale as the snow on dragonspine but the tip of his nose is a pink hue as tears well up and sting at his widened eyes. he's not crying, he refuses to cry - he puts it down to not having blinked for a while. so he blinks but you're still hunched over, impaled by a polearm before him. he finally moves forward, kneeling carefully to the side of you as you let out a choked sob, your hands gripping his cold ones tight in yours. he's confused, what did he do to deserve it this time? he didn't ask for this existence in the first place. cursing under his breath, his eyes land on your sword on the floor. it's worn, getting dull and wanderer questions if you was unable to protect yourself properly. no. he didn't protect you properly and the archons saw an opportunity, another jab at his curse of an existence. his eyes dart between you and the blade, then the polearm that isn't welcome where it is. you wince, hiccuping as you wail into the silence of mawtiyima forest. your vision is falling hazy in between the blur of your tears and you're struggling to keep your eyes on your boyfriend's familiar face. "no, no, no - don't go," wanderer panics. it's the first thing he's said since he offered to join you on this commission, "don't leave me, not you too." you let out a sad laugh, coughing blood once more as your breaths get shorter with every one you take. wanderer feels sick, the tears are falling down his cheeks and he can't deny them anymore. there's a last breath, raspy and suffocating before your body falls forward into his arms, limp like a doll. wanderer screams out into the night, hands clutching at the guild's uniform you would proudly wear. how many more times was he going to witness someone getting hastily robbed from him?

xiao keeps his distance, even as your beloved boyfriend that you struggle to be away from for extended periods. you were stubborn, believing he didn't have to succumb to his karma as an adeptus. no matter how much he would shuffle away, he could guarantee you would shuffle after him until he no longer moved away. you still gave him his space - you knew you could find him at wangshu inn.

or if you really needed him, in the midst of the night for a multitude of reasons, you could say his name.

there's a lump in xiao's throat, what the fuck happened? one moment he knows he hears your hurried screams of his name, there's a shrill panic in your tone and he's alert in seconds. he thought you was perhaps in danger but when golden eyes see how you're leaning back on a tree, blood soaking your shirt - and your blade, he realises the danger is gone. and in all of your stubbornness, you had defeated the danger alone but put your life on the line as a result. you smile at him weakly, his footsteps silent as he rushes over to your side. "i got it, don't worry, love." you sigh, tilting your head back on the bark. xiao scowls, you're losing consciousness from the blood now, it's starting to pool beneath you and run down the cracks of the bark behind you. this isn't a minor injury and yet you hadn't called for him sooner? "we need to get you out of here - morax- zhongli- he can help," he barely breathes in between his words, swallowing at the tight feeling in his throat when your eyes are closing, "keep your eyes open, please." his beg falls short of no one's ears other than his own and the stars above. xiao stops breathing himself, holding his breath when he hurries to press the pads of his fingers to your neck, your wrist, anywhere he can try find a pulse. but there's nothing, your body is still warm and xiao pulls you flush to his chest when tears begin to fall down his cheeks. "keep.. them open. please." he repeats in a whisper, nudging his nose against your head as he buries his face into your hair. he's begging in hushed whispers, words disappearing into the strands of your hair in silent prayers.

kaeya was the one who chased you first, lisa's darling library assistant. he'd never spent so much time in the library in his life, other than crepus' own library at the winery but he wasn't much fond of that collection. he isn't much fond of the knights' collection either, reading the same book every day. jean occasionally entrusts you to handle matters in the valleys of mondstadt, to which kaeya is quick to always interfere and say that he'll go with you.

history will always repeat itself until the lesson is learned and an innocent soul has to face the reality.

thunder booms over head, followed by a distant crack of lightning that illuminates the dark sky above mondstadt. kaeya is stood, motionless as he looks at you. his eyes are distant, there's a vacant look about him when the blood is running down your bare legs and mixing with the rain. you're both soaked but your clothes are staining red where a mitachurl's axe caught you in the side. the blood is coming quick and heavy, there isn't time for kaeya to get you back to the city. this scene is familiar when you fall to your knees in the mud, hands holding at your side for pressure. suddenly, your hair is a bright shade of red. is kaeya about to stand and do nothing for a second time, when history is repeating himself right in front of his very own eyes? he swallows but it's difficult, rushing to your side. you're losing consciousness but your eyes are scanning his face. the sun kissed skin, the worn leather eyepatch and his messy blue ponytail that now looks like waterfalls cascading around his face. you smile at the thought. you should visit the waterfalls of mondstadt when the weather picks up so you can gawk at them. "baby?" it comes out of his mouth, barely audible above the rain, "say something - are you okay?" you almost throw back a playful retort but your vision is darkening around the edges and you're grasping to what sight you have left to look at kaeya. your vision blurs when tears threaten to spill - are you scared? you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. kaeya's gloved hands cup your face, pressing his forehead against yours. "stay with me, love, i can't lose you," kaeya's frantic and his words are jumbling when he panics, "we'll stop the bleeding and take you to sister barbara-" kaeya pauses when he notices you haven't blinked despite the rain falling onto your face when he pulls his forehead away. there's a distant look in your eyes, the light has faded and he can't feel the hot, struggled breaths you was taking against his skin anymore. a flurry of angered swears leave his lips and he's careful when he carries you bridal style to the dawn winery. it's the first place he thinks to take you, back to his brother who can't bear to see kaeya stood in the rain again with blood drenching his clothes from the long walk to the winery's front door.

© https-heizou 2023.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Thankful for Tommy

"I'm thankful for supportive family and that this time next year, there'll be another little Buckley-Han joining us for Thanksgiving," Maddie said, her hand resting on her stomach.

"I'm thankful for unicorns and baby sisters!" Jee announced, causing several chuckles around the table.

"I'm thankful that Jee is such a big girl and would be happy with a baby sister or baby brother," Chim paused for effect, "and that Diaz shaved his mustache."

The laughter rippled through the group as Eddie playfully rolled his eyes.

Buck felt his leg shaking under the table, growing more nervous as his turn approached. Hen caught his eye from across the table. "You ok?" she mouthed silently.

Buck nodded, trying to still his trembling leg.

The laughter was just dying down from Eddie's deadpan, "I'm thankful for therapy," when Buck realized it was his turn.

"I'm thankful for new experiences and learning things about myself," Buck began, his voice soft but steady. "I'm thankful for acceptance and understanding. I'm thankful for communication, for second chances, and forgiveness." He paused, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at the doorway. "I'm thankful for... Tommy."

There stood his nervous boyfriend, hands in his pockets. "Hi guys. I was hoping you might be okay with one more for dessert? I heard someone baked a few extra pies."

The table was silent for a moment.

"I'm thankful that you two idiots finally got your act together," Karen said, breaking the tension.

"I'm thankful for no more banana bread," Chim quipped, causing Buck to blush.

"I'm thankful I won the bet," Hen said with a triumphant grin. "Cough it up."

The room erupted in laughter and overlapping voices as money started changing hands, while Buck and Tommy exchanged embarrassed but happy glances.

"Pull up a seat, Tommy," Athena said warmly.

"Welcome home," Bobby added with a smile.

Buck sighed happily. He was at ease. He was free.

[aimedis]

cutie (and geordi ig) hcs

the day that geordi left, cutie literally cried so hard they threw up multiple times and passed out (geordi has no idea). all they did for days was lay in bed and cry (they almost refused to use their powers for work too) 

geordi's sister wanted geordi to leave cutie. and for a while, geordi wanted to as well

cutie was internally scared and hesitant to get back together (they technically didn’t break up) with geordi. geordi wanted to fix their relationship but cutie was ready to give up on having a relationship with him. they think they don't deserve happiness with anyone, much less geordi

cutie wanted geordi to forget them and at times, geordi wanted to forget them too

cutie pinches themselves hard enough to leave little scars whenever they get the urge to use their powers

after geordi was comfortable enough to be around cutie again, they apologized over every little thing (from accidentally bumping into him to using their powers around him even if they weren't using them on him)

it took geordi a couple months to decide if he still wanted to be in a relationship with cutie

cutie doesn't really have any other relationships outside of geordi except a couple work friends (*cough* sweetheart) so they spent the entire break mostly alone and talking themselves down from the edge

geordi doesn't think their relationship can ever go back to the way it was before. cutie doesn't either

what if geordi officially breaks up with cutie then and gets into another relationship? another partner that would never go against his boundaries like cutie did. another partner that loves him and brings him true happiness. someone better than cutie.

geordi as please please please in his new relationship lol

what if cutie finds out when they bump into geordi and his new partner? what if they force a smile and fake a conversation of congratulations before they go home and break down? what if cutie stops going to therapy and just

gives up?

what if geordi heals and cutie doesn't?

[honeygrahambitch]

"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."

"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"

"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."

Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.

"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.

"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."

"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.

Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.

"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."

Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.

Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.

He wished Will would allow him to care for him.

That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.

As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.

"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.

Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.

"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.

"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.

"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."

Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.

Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.

Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.

"We can pass notes."

"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.

"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."

"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.

"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.

"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.

Will nodded.

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

A Tiny Little Secret

[pairings]: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

[summary]: You and Tara get caught and it turns into an argument between her and her sister, Sam.

[warning]: Swearing

A/N: again, it's really short but i have little to no motivation right now so yeah.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You were just outside of Tara’s shared apartment, ready to knock on her door but noticed the still burning cigarette between your fingers. You sighed and quickly put it out, not caring about the mess. You finally knocked on the door and Tara opened it. As soon as she saw you she smiled. “ Hi! Get in quick before the neighbours see you. “ She ushered you inside.

The reason she did it was simple, Sam hated your guts. Tara’s friends were not okay with her hanging out with you either. Saying that they don’t know anything about you. But Tara did. She knew your dad was in prison for murder. She knows that your mother is trying her best at taking care of you, but often losing her shit because her parents want her to be successful . And she was. You guys were loaded but that came with her not having any time with you. You were stressed out by everything and Tara was your only relief.

You laughed as you sat down on the couch; “ So, where is everyone? “

“ Well. Sam is on her therapy session, Mindy and Anika are on a date, Chad and Ethan are at a party and Quinn is at some guys’ place. “ She sat down beside you and handed you a bottle of beer.

You nodded slowly and took a sip “ What do you wanna do?"

She smiled and got up “ We…..are watching a horror movie."

You grinned at her “ Oh, really? “ You straightened your back and watched as she picked up the remote and started to look for the movie “ Which one? “ 

She turned around and looked at you with a little smirk on her lips “ Saw “ You raised your eyebrows. 

“Oh, I thought we were watching your favourite, again. Stab? “

“ Yeah, but it’s time for your favourite. “ She found the movie and went back beside you on the couch. She put an arm around your shoulders and leaned her head on yours.

After a while the movie ended and Tara got up. She went to the kitchen and grabbed something from the fridge, put it into the microwave. You watched her every move curiously. She came back with two plates in her hand and handed one to you. You looked at it to find some pizza laying on your plate. “ That’s all we have as Mindy kind of brought everything else to her and Anika’s date. “ You nodded and took a bite.

“ So wanna watch another movie, or what? “  You asked, looking at her then at the TV. 

“ Hmm, how about…..” She slowly put her plate down and you looked at her, confused. “ Maybe, we could make out until you have to go? “  You nodded eagerly and put your own plate down.

She chuckled and leaned closer to you, kissing you softly. The kiss was passionate at first then it heated up quickly. She grabbed your thighs and put you in her lap. You let out a surprised yelp, but went back to kissing Tara furiously. You put your hand on her neck and deepened the kiss. Soon you felt her tongue at your lips, asking for permission which you gave to her immediately. 

You guys made out for a while. A little too long if I may say so. Because you certainly didn’t notice the door opening and every single one of Tara’s friends - and her sister- came in, but quickly stopped in their tracks as they saw what was happening on the couch.

It was Chad’s loud cough that made you both separate from each other. Both of your eyes widen as  you look in the direction of the noise and you are quickly off of Tara and sitting rather far away from her. Tara was the one to speak first; “ Shit, uhh. How the time flew by, huh? I think it’s time for a shower. “  She was about to get up, but Sam stopped her. 

She was glaring at you intensely and only averted her gaze to look at her younger sister; “ Is this what you have been fucking doing when we are not home?! “ Oh uh, she was angry. You were on your feet immediately, ready to take the blame, but both of them looked at you and glared.

“ You say it like it’s a crime to have someone over! The others always do! “ She argued getting up from her seat on the couch.

Sam scoffs and laughs bitterly; “ She- We don’t know anything about her! For all you care she could be a serial killer! “

“ But I know her! “

Sam looks back at their friends then back at Tara “ Are you sure about that?! I mean she is all just a hook-up to you, isn’t she? Why would you choose her anyway?! “ 

“ She is not, just a hook-up, Samantha. She is my girlfriend and we have been together for several months! I love her! “ You gasp softly behind them and smile. You guys have yet to say the L word to each other, even though you’ve wanted to do it for a while now. “ You can’t decide who I love! “

Sam sighed” Can we have this conversation tomorrow? I’m tired.” 

Tara nodded and everyone slowly went to their rooms. She walked over to you and kissed you softly then hugged you. “ Sorry you had to see that” 

You inhale her scent and sigh softly; “ It’s alright.” You pull away slowly “ But i think i should go”

She nodded and walked you over to the door and opened it for you. “ I love you “

She smiled lightly “ I love you too. See you tomorrow? “ You nodded and walked off towards the stairs. Tara giggled and closed the door. A love-struck smile on her face as she slumped onto the couch and picked the plate of pizza back up. 

[thezombieprostitute]

Just needed to write something. Inspired by @navybrat817's post about being taken away so you don't have to work.

Alpha left unnamed so you can picture your own grumpy/protective man.

This was entirely written on my phone. Apologies for errors.

+++++

You've been having a rough day. Your clothes weren't fitting right, that tag kept itching your neck. Your nerves were on edge. You were certain everyone was noticing all of your flaws. Goodness knows you were pointing all of them out to yourself.

Work is only making things worse. It's turning a lot of your nervous energy into anger and frustration. Heaven forbid your boss check her own notes or your co-workers fix their own mistakes.

Worst of all, you've closed off your bond so you don't bother Alpha with everything. That source of love and support cut off because you can't return his energy today and don't want him worrying about you. You make sure to text him, assuring him it's just a bad day and you'll talk when you're both home.

Then someone steals your lunch and, for the briefest second, you send all your sadness and anger through the bond. You quickly work to get it back under control as you try to not cry on your way to the vending machines.

About 30 minutes later there's a text from Alpha, "I'm downstairs. You're going home with me." You text back that you'll be ok. That you need to finish your work day.

A minute after you send that message you get a call from the front desk. The receptionist is clearly nervous, "there's a very big, very upset Alpha here saying he's here to pick you up for lunch?"

"I can confirm he's my Alpha," you sigh. "But I've already had my lunch. Maybe send him up?" Perhaps of you can get in some physical contact it'll help both you.

The receptionist wasn't wrong, Alpha is looking very upset. And everyone in the office is steering clear. As soon as you're in reach, he's pulling you into his arms, scenting you. You're able to let go of some of the day's stress with his help.

Your boss coughs to get your attention. "Unless there's been a change in your heat/rut cycles, this behavior is not allowed. This is a workplace, not a therapy session."

Alpha stands up to his full height and your boss takes a step back. "I guess that means she'll have to find a better job elsewhere." He grabs your bag and packs the few personal belongings you've got.

"Alpha, you can't do this," you protest weakly.

"My Omega is hurting and this place is just making it worse. So yes, I'm doing this." He grabs your hand and pulls you to the elevator. As much as you want to protest, you just don't have the energy.

And, really, you don't want to stop him. You just want him to get you home so he can take care of you, protect you, and everything else your inner Omega is begging for right now.

You open up the bond again and Alpha looks at you with a smile at your feelings of relief, gratitude and love.

+++++

So who did you picture for your Alpha?

Tagging @alicedopey; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly