#New England Nurse

[uwmspeccoll]

(Not So) Steamy Saturday

"The times had brought changes to Whitebridge. Could Jane Weaver, R.N., take up her old life and duties. . . ?"

"'Jane, I'd like you to meet Dr. Boyd Daves. . . .' It took all of Jane's poise to cover her surprise. For the handsome man smiling politely at her from behind the wheel was black."

"A new black doctor had introduced the racial question . . . and Jane found not the threads of her old life but a new challenge to her heart."

Of the 500+ nurse romance novels from the 1940s to the early 1970s in our collection, it is rare to find one with African American main characters, let alone having them depicted on the cover, and even rarer are interracial relationships. In our collection, the nurse romances that do were all published after Civil Rights legislation of the mid-1960s. Such is the case this pulp novel, Homecoming Nurse by Rose Dana (one of the many pseudonyms for prolific pulp-fiction writer W.E.D. Ross, 1912-1995), published in New York by Lancer Books in 1968.

With the novel showcasing many of the social taboos of the time -- divorce, a small New England town forced to come to terms with contemporary racial issues, racially-exclusive country clubs, interracial relationships, mental illness, the village ice queen chasing after a married man -- we thought it would have the makings of a fairly steamy plot. But, alas, its narrative is plodding and pedestrian with barely a wisp of steam. Disappointing. To its credit, however, with the entire town fretting over the potential of miscegenation, the story does culminate in an interracial engagement (between the main character Jane's friend Maggie and Dr. Boyd, not Jane herself). Getting there, however, is tedious and about as exciting as an ice cream parlor on a sleepy New England main street.

View other nurse romance novels.

View other pulp fiction posts.

[starlightshadowsworld]

The Lucy Letby situation is fucked for so many reasons.

Because the actual shit she did was fucked, she's a serial killer, a child murderer.

And the news is like oh she was an English rose.

She didn't have the face of a murderer.... What do child murderers look like? 🤨

Because last I checked, the only nurses that have killed kids in thus country were white women.

And her friends and family being like oh she was so sweet, never angry, never mean oh we'll miss her so much.

"I'll stand with her no matter what? 🥺"... The fuck?!

I have dropped people for less.

And people sympathising with her crying in court like oh poor dear....

She killed 7 babies, you know who the poor dears are the babies!

The parents and families of those poor innocent babies.

God the power of white woman tears is something else.

And for anyone who's like don't bring race into this, you think there'd be this much sympathy if she was black or brown?

Bitch literally wrote a note saying "I'm evil I did this" and there are people who can't believe "an innocent women" could do such evil.

[totallyhussein-blog]

Why the UK is so concerned about schools and public buildings

British politics has returned from the summer obsessed with one apparently unlikely subject – concrete. Fears over the safety of reinforced autoclave aerated concrete, or Raac, have closed schools in England and more buildings could follow.

So what is reinforced autoclaved aerated concrete, or Raac, and why is it suddenly so prominent? To get to grips with this issue, check out the Guardian's Crumbling concrete: why the UK is so concerned about schools and public buildings and the UK’s school buildings failure goes back decades by the Financial Times.

The Royal College of Nursing has also warned that emergency plans should be shared with staff and employers should immediately assess any risk of buildings collapsing. It comes after it was revealed that dozens of NHS buildings and hospitals in England contain the “weaker” reinforced autoclaved aerated concrete (RAAC).

“Nursing staff and patients deserve to feel safe and will be alarmed at this letter warning trusts to get ready to evacuate hospitals if they are at risk of collapse. Staff must be properly briefed by their employer and provided with relevant information concerning their place of work. Employers have a legal duty to make sure staff, and others who could be affected, such as patients and visitors, are safe."

While we're on the subject of buildings in Britain, The Morning Star are reporting that nearly 5,000 people in Britain died last year due to damp and cold homes. The End Fuel Poverty Coalition have calculated that of the 21,890 excess winter deaths in 2022-23, 21.5 per cent were caused by people living in cold homes.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

why can’t my entire medical team move to texas with me :(((

[s17s17]

My old elementary building. I didn't remember anything about the outside of the building, aside from it was really pink. The inside is actually burnt into my mind, for whatever reason. The basement was dope.

[morganbritton132]

Steve actually loves science fiction but it’s infinitely funnier to piss Dustin off by repeatedly mispronouncing the names is the characters in Star Wars because, “It’s Skywalker, Steve. Not Stair-Master! And his name is Luke, not Lucas! No one is named Lucas.”

“I think at least one person is.”

“In the movie.”

Dustin has recently discovered Doctor Who and is kinda a dick about explaining it to Steve. He heavily implies that Steve isn’t smart enough for the show like Steve’s mom doesn’t have a friend in England that tapes the new episodes and mails it to them.

Steve could share that information with Dustin but he’s not going to. Instead, when Dustin brings up The Doctor, Steve says, “Woah, Doc Hagan got a tv show?”

“It’s not a show about your dentist, Steve!”

If Steve is trying to round up all the kids and they’re being particularly annoying, he’ll clap his hands together and says, “C’mon, Ghost-bangers.”

The first thing he did after facing the demo-dogs was to memorize the entire D&D monster guide. He could tell Dustin this but D&D seems insufferable to him and it’s going to be way more satisfying when he catches the kid bullshitting an explanation and can call him out.

Robin knows about the stack of HG Wells books shelved in the den and Eddie definitely knows something is up. But Dustin? Nope.

There’s literally a picture on the mantle in the living room of him and his mom dressed as Spock and Nurse Chappell at a Star Trek convention when he was eight. Dustin walks passed it twice a week and has never noticed.

[penguinbuttcheeks]

retired!john price x afab reader

₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽ °˖˚𓏲࿐࿔ ₊˚.༄:፣₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽

retired!john price who never looked back once finally leaving the military to spend the rest of his life with you, the gentle gleam of his wedding band occasionally catching his eye, making his chest feel warm.

retired!john price who moves to the countryside of england with his precious bird, years of hard labour and deep rooted exhaustion finally seeping from his body as he learns to unwind, recline back with his missus and simply take life one day at a time.

retired!john price who slowly grows more pliable under your touch, hard muscles slowly buried beneath the soft pudge of his stomach, biceps and thighs, your head resting more comfortably against his shoulder than it ever has as the two of you fall asleep in each others arms each night.

retired!john price who learns to enjoy hobbies he had long discarded after enlisting, reading next to you in the living room as snow falls gently from the sky and the fireplace crackles, perhaps tediously sawing at wooden planks under the harsh summer sun, sweat rolling down his back as he works on the new dining table. he lifts his head, unable to stop the soft upward curl of his lips as you walk towards him with a plate of freshly cut watermelon, sitting on the deck of your property and watching the clouds roll by with you at his side.

retired!john price who gathers you in his arms, the stinging of unshed tears burning behind his eyes when you break the news of your pregnancy to him, large hand splaying across your stomach as he pulls you close, gentle lips pressing against yours.

retired!john price who’s forehead no longer creases, furrowed brows instead replaced with a content smile, crows feet leaving behind a permanent reminder of his newfound happiness.

retired!john price who’s eyes shine with love and adoration as he pauses his dish washing to watch you quietly hum to yourself, nursing your newborn child against your chest who is gently suckling with bleary blue eyes. just like his.

retired!john price who’s heart that was once fuelled by violence and bloodshed finally content and full because of you.

[ro-doodles]

Did someone ask for a role swap AU?

No? Well, take one anyway.

In this AU the agency would be based in the US, maybe New York or Boston, since Crystal and Niko are both from or live in America in the show. Then instead of Port Townsend they would go to a small sea side town in England. Like I mentioned in the Charles blurb, I’m swapping Jenny and the Night Nurse for this au, but I’m not sure what to do with the rest of the characters, so I’m open to suggestions.

More of this au:

Jenny and the Night Nurse

The Cat King and Esther (+ Monty)

Doodles 1

Doodles 2

[trans-axolotl]

ID: Intersex activist Max Beck standing in front of the American Academy of Pediatrics with a sign that says Silence=Death.

On October 26th, 1996, the first ever protest for intersex liberation in America took place when activists from Hermaphrodites With Attitude took to the streets to protest the American Academy of Pediatrics. Later memorialized as intersex awareness day, this important action was a milestone for the American intersex movement. Max Beck, one of the intersex activists from HWA, documented the entire protest and later published their recollection in the Intersex Awakening Issue of the Chrysalis Journal. The full piece is pasted under the cut.  

"But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. 

I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America. One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. 

We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!" 

Hermaphrodites With Attitude Take to the Streets: By Max Beck, 1997

In late October of 1996, Hermaphrodites with Attitude took to the streets, in the first public demonstration by intersexuals in modern history. On a glorious fall day, the like of which you can only find in New England, under a crackling, cloudless sky, twenty-odd protesters joined forces to picket the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians in Boston. Deeply aware of the historical and personal significance of the action, and — correctly — surmising that a notebook diary would not be practical on such a whirlwind, windy week-end, I took a small hand-held tape recorder with me. What follows are excerpts from the resulting transcript.

October 24, 1996 2:45 PM, Atlanta’s Hartsfield International Airport

The trip has only just begun and I am already exhausted. Hot. Starving. Fifteen minutes until take-off. Every businessman boarding the plane looks like a pediatric endocrinologist, Boston-bound. Silly thought, testimony to what? My anxiety? My fear? My giddy anticipation? If these bespectacled, suit-and-tie sporting men were pediatricians, would they be flying coach on Continental, with a layover in Newark? I’m headed for Boston, for the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians (AAP). Tens of thousands of pediatricians. I’m not a pediatrician, though, nor am I a nurse; in fact, I barely managed to complete my B.A. I’m a manager of a technical laboratory. We don’t work with children, and the AAP certainly didn't invite me, so why am I going?

With the plane taxiing toward take-off, this is a lousy time to reassess. I’m going. I’m going because I am intersexed. I’m going because the doctors and nurses who treated me as an infant and a child and an adolescent, and those who continue to treat intersexed infants and children today, consider me “lost to follow-up.” I was lost— that’s part of the problem. Now, I’m back.

9:02 PM: Boston’s North End

I’m comfortably ensconced in Alice’s warehouse condo in Boston’s North End, a renovated warehouse with a view of the city skyline, ceilings easily twenty feet high, exposed beams and brick, gorgeous tile floor. As I speak, my hostess is preparing an absolutely phenomenal meal. The aroma of roasted peppers permeates the entire space. Tomorrow, the work begins; my project this evening is to unwind and enjoy this wonderful meal. Easier said than done. I’m feeling excited, enervated, I feel very alive, something I don’t feel very often, I feel very present and aware. It could be my exhaustion, it could be the Chardonnay. But I think, rather, that the excitement is anticipation about what we are about to do. Being here, finally being prepared to raise a voice, to be heard, to be seen, a vocal, out, proud hermaphrodite who is standing up to say, “Let’s rethink this, this isn’t working, we’ve been hurt, stop what you’re doing, listen to us!” I’m really looking forward to meeting Morgan at the airport in the morning; it’s always amazing to make eye contact with someone else who has been there.

October 25, 7:38 AM Boston Commons

En route to my encounter with the AAP, walking the approximately two miles from my hostess’ domicile to the Marriott Hotel at Copley Square, I pause in the Boston Commons to enjoy a park bench, to sip my Starbuck’s decaf, and to watch a group of senior citizens performing Japanese swordsmanship on top of the hill beneath a monument to some forgotten general. The city is cool this morning, but clear, and it promises to be a beautiful weekend. That’s good: we won’t be rained out. I’ve got a stack of about ninety ISNA brochures in the bag at my side, crammed in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. If I want these pamphlets to get inside, I’ve got to get to the site of the Nurses’ Panel at the Marriott before they close the doors. Then it’s back out to the airport, to pick up Morgan. My feet are already killing me.

October 26, 9:15 AM: North End

Morgan and I are sitting at our hostess’ breakfast table, pulling our thoughts together. In a few minutes, we’ll have to leave to pick up Riki at the airport. The logistics of pulling together an action are mind-boggling. There’s no describing the thrill, though, of all that work, all those phone calls, all those miles. Riding a clattering subway on a Saturday morning, seated beside another living, breathing, laughing, swearing intersexual, hugging near-strangers at unfamiliar airports, then riding back, together, defiant, determined, organized, to the heart of so much of our pain, so much of our anger, so much of our need. We gathered in front of the huge Hynes Auditorium, pamphlets and leaflets in hand, and met the AAP attendees as they left the convention center for lunch. The next hour-and-a-half was a blur, as we positioned ourselves in strategic locations before the Hynes, held signs and “Hermaphrodites with Attitude” banner aloft, distributed our literature, engaged AAP members and passers-by in conversation and debate, spoke to microphones, to cameras. In all that time, I recorded only one fragment of a breathless sentence. 

Saturday, 12:20 PM Outside the Hynes

We’ve got all the exits covered, and it’s an incredible, incredibly empowering experience. I remember the words I spoke to the TV camera, if only because I had scribbled a rough outline on the airplane, pirating mightily from Cheryl’s press release. And because the moment was so salient, so real. Me, Max, bespectacled, with blisters on my feet and chapped lips, speaking out to untold numbers of invisible viewers (and a few bewildered pediatricians behind me.)

"When an intersex child is born, parents and caregivers are faced with what seems to be a terrible dilemma: here is an infant who does not fit what our society deems normal. Immediate medical intervention seems indicated, in order to spare the parents and the child the inevitable stigmatization associated with being different. Yet the infant is not facing a medical emergency; intersexuality is rarely if ever life-threatening. Rather, the psychosocial crisis of the parents and caregivers is medicalized. 

Intersexuality is assumed to be a birth defect which can be corrected, outgrown and forgotten. The experiences of members of the intersex support groups indicate that intersexuality cannot be fixed; an intersex infant grows up to be an intersex adult. This hasn’t been explored, because intersex patients are almost invariably “lost to follow-up.” The abstract of a talk that will be given at this very conference by a doctor who treats intersex infants concedes that “the psychological issues surrounding genital reconstruction are inadequately understood.”

Part of the problem is that we were lost to follow-up, and there were reasons for that. But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America.

One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!

7:20 PM: Boston’s North End

Goddess, this is so sweet, so liberating! I was so reluctant a week ago, having my Jesus-in-Gethsemane experience, reluctant to accept — not an onus or responsibility but — to accept who I am. And here’s where the hard work really begins. I’m exhausted when I think of the road before us. But then, it’s nothing like the road behind us. 

Max Beck, 1997.

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

guilty as sin? masterlist

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

warnings: (specific chapter warnings will be posted at the top of each chapter, before any content) fem!reader, eventual smut, language, mentions of insecurity and mental health, intermittent mentions of disordered eating

notice: if there is an asterisk after any body of work, this indicates that the body of work contains smut and other such adult topics. For more specific parts of the story, please click the links below and you should be able to navigate by chapter, however this will only be available to view once the chapter is published. 18+ only please, and remember, you are in charge of your own reading experience and the media you wish to consume.

chapter one: the bolter

chapter two: making amends

chapter three: in the blink of a crinkling eye

chapter four: who else decodes you?

chapter five: fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications

chapter six: i think he knows

chapter seven: looming on the horizon

chapter eight: twenty stitches in a hospital room

chapter nine: truth, dare, spin bottles

chapter ten: i don't want you like a best friend

bonus - chapter eleven: he better lock it down*

bonus - chapter twelve: i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?*

[uwmspeccoll]

Steamy Saturday

There is love, tender and tempestuous. . . .

Curt Wiley, a handsome Texas engineer, came to town. . . .

Judy hated Curt the moment she met him. . . .

Then, . . . Judy discovered that Curt was not the playboy he appeared to be . . . but a decent sensitive human being . . . who seemed to be falling in love with her.

Judy found herself head over heels in love!

Suddenly, Neal Bentley seemed dull and uninteresting to Judy.

By spring she had made a decision . . . a decision that was as much a surprise to Judy as it will be to you.

A surprise? Really? The promotional blurbs project the ending before we even get to the first chapter:

I told you . . . I wasn't worth it. I'm not the steady sort -- say, like your friend, Neal Bentley. . . . I won't make any girl a very good husband. Bentley seems like the right sort for you. . . . She had to choose between the rootlessness of a life as a construction man's wife, or the steady, homespun love of her childhood sweetheart. . . .

A surprise? Neal Bentley, hint, hint. This is staid New England in the 1950s, after all, where:

"When the sap runs in the maple grove . . . that's spring in New England. Spring always comes after the snow -- after the storm.". . Love like Neal's could guarantee that, no matter what came, spring or storm, . . their love -- would never change.

Indeed, there's definitely more sap than steam in New England Nurse by the prolific nurse romance novelist Adelaide Humphries (a pseudonym for Adelaide Morris Rowe, 1898-1979), first published in pulp paperback by Avon Books in 1956. We do appreciate the cover art, however, with its chilly color palate, asymmetrical design, and the nurse who looks, as our intern Ana observed, "like she's so over it, but at the same time still into it." We wish we knew who the cover artist was. And then there's that keen observation about regional differences: "I'm a Texan, not a New Englander. A roamer, not a rock." And there you have it, in a nutshell.

View other nurse romance novels.

View other pulp fiction posts.

[starlightshadowsworld]

No because when a doctor raised concerns about Lucy Letby.

Ravi Jayaram.

A south asian man mind you.

Along with 2 other consultants.

They were told to not be mean to her.

That she cried when they accused her and had to apologise to her.

..... Apologise to a baby killing serial killer?!

Because they made her cry with their accusations.

Which were correct.

And had evidence even at that time to support she was guilty of murdering infants.

Because people couldn't fathom that a woman who looked like her could do something so horrible.

And the news really want to emphasise that someone who looks like her, you can't fathom doing such harm.

[totallyhussein-blog]

In a modern world, a fresh approach to care is needed

The most recent census data indicates there are 5.7 million unpaid carers across the UK, which represents around 9% of the population.

However, a Carers UK 2022 research report estimated that the number of unpaid carers could be as high as 10.6 million people.

As Dentons Law firm explain, the term "working carers" refers to employees who have caring responsibilities which have an impact on their working lives.

Working carers have responsibility for the care and support of relatives or friends who are older, disabled, physically or mentally ill and unable to care for themselves.

Helen Walker, chief executive of the national campaigning charity Carers UK, which set up and leads Carers Week has said;

“The shortage of care, lack of breaks and low carers’ benefits has left many feeling exhausted and at the end of their tether. Unpaid carers deserve better.”

An unpaid carer or working carer should never be confused with someone who works in either social care or for the NHS.

An unpaid carer is defined by the census as someone who looks after or supports anyone with a long-term physical or mental health conditions, illness or problems related to old age.

Helen Walker also called for a “step change in the way that Government and society supports and recognises carers”, adding employers can look at supporting employees who are juggling work and care.

[leah-lover]

Crossover. Leah Williamson x reader.

Based off this request. Thank you.

Exiting, that's how you would describe your life as a model. Yes there were the occasional hiccups but you mostly got to do very cool stuff and hang out with cool people. Your work took you everywhere but your home base was London. You started your career there and a large number of your followers come from there too.

The thing you loved the most about your job was the parties. They allow you to meet very interesting people, pick their brain and develop interesting g friendships.

Today was no different. Nike had a pretty high budget launch party for their new show line and you were invited. These parties were a little less formal than what you were used to going to, so you decided against a suit or a dress and settled for a black strapless and backless jumpsuit, a pair of black heels and some gold accessories. Your make up was elegant and your signature red lip was at its center.

Nike as always sent you a car to your house and you headed to the location of the event on time.

Upon arriving there you said hi to some people, talked to others, took some pictures at the event with some guests and drank champagne. The night was as regular as most of most launch parties were. Suddenly you were approached by one of the managers of the event.

“ Hey, so I wanted to introduce you to one of the faces of this launch. Miss Leah Williamson.” he says.

“ hi, nice to meet you, Miss williamson.” you say offering her your hand.

“ Hey, just Leah please.” she answers, shaking your hand

.” a fellow Brit I see. I haven't seen many of those tonight.”

“ glad i was among the few.” she answers. You two talked for a little while over a small table, each one of you nursing a drink. You both were making jokes trying to get one another to laugh or at least smile. There was definitely tension in the air and you both were flirtatious with one another.

“So Leah this has been one of the best nights I have had for a while. Thank you “ you say, squeezing her hand gently.

“Yeah it was fun for me too.” she responds with a disappointed tone. “Let me walk you to your car.”

While leaving the venue you hear a photographer say “ Miss Williamson would you like a picture?”. She looks over to you and you get into your usual pose instantly. While getting ready her hand slips perfectly on the small of your back applying the right amount of pressure.

While the photographer's flash was blinding you, you looked over to Leah and she did the same to you. You stood there getting your picture taken with a hot blonde after flirting with her all night. She made you feel safe with her hand on your back which you appreciated.She then walls you too you car.

“Tonight was fun.” You say leaning on the door.

“We should do this again sometime soon.” She replies with a small smile on her face.

“House about you come to one of our games. We will play in the Emirates soon. I think it would be a good experience.” She added.

“ Maybe.” You respond before getting in your car.

This night was gonna be unforgettable.

—----------------

Fact forward a few weeks you were back in England after being in Milan, Paris, and Japan for work. Well there first two were work , the last one was for fun since the F1 Japan grand prix was one of your favorites on the race calendar. You could say that that weekend was well spent. You hung out on the Ferrari paddock and did a lot of social media work. This work backfired on you because all people were talking about the whole weekend we're done moment that happened between you and a driver. Romers never bothered you, now it was different. Leah had followed you on Instagram after the event and you worried that she would believe them. As a result you decided to go to the arsenal game she talked about. Getting tickets was a Hassle because they were all sold out. But you managed to find a seat right next to the bench, very close to the field.

You showed up to the Stadium early. You hair was down, your makeup was simple, you wore jeans, a black button down and a Jersey over it, one that says Leah Williamson on the back, and you added a few gold accessories again.

Like Leah said the atmosphere was electric. You went to the VIP section first, got some food and a drink then you headed down to your seat. Leah didn't know you were coming; you wanted it to stay a surprise.

As soon as the players appeared on the pitch the whole strain erupted into cheers and chants. Those cheers only got louder when Arsenal scored 3 goals in 20 minutes which you were told was impressive.

After the half time break some players were running up and down the field. That's when she saw you. She held eye contact with you for a long time, a wide smile planted across her face. She had a look of pride, joy, and reassurance. You smiled back at her, clapped as she came on and sang and chanted loudly.

After the game was done the players were doing a lap around the pitch and when she saw you again. Another wide smile was painted on her face. She looked happy to be there and happy that you were there too.

She was then signing autographs, taking pictures and genuinely talking to people. She grew immensely in your eyes because of her thankful and humble demeanor. She then asked for you to follow her inside the stadium which you did.

“You clean up nice. I like your shirt “ she said with a cocky expression on her face.

“Well I saw a charming young lady at an event a few weeks ago and she hadn't left my mind ever since. I missed her and I thought I would come and see her. Turns out she is the best person in the world.” You respond.

“ Well I hope this girl gets to go have dinner with you because you two sound formidable.” She added

“ Maybe.” You respond

You wait for her to get ready and get out of the locker room. When she gets out, a few girls follow her and appear to be teasing her.

“ I swear if I hear from anyone you shit heads you won't like practice anymore.” She said to them. You simply wave to them as you two walk by then to Leah's car too which she opens the door.

“ Such a gentleman.” You exclaim.

“Well I have competition. That girl you were talking about is a catch.” She joked.

Leah was fun. She made you feel at ease and safe.

This was going to be a fun adventure.

[sparkleofpizza]

The Alchemy

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Two idiots.

THE 2020 SEASON

WINTER BREAK London, England, 2020 

Formula 1 might be on a break, but university isn’t. I’ve been studying non stop and working all my free time to get extra credit so I’d be able to graduate early, right at the end of spring so I’d have the rest of the year more chilled out. 

But being a 21 year old college student, living alone at an apartment at a college campus meant trouble, obviously, and that’s how after long hours of studying at the library, instead of being in my bed catching up on some sleep, I was at a frat house party. 

The music was blaring and I was nursing my third drink of night, but in all honesty completely tired now that the alcohol had relaxed me. 

I was sitting on the couch, watching my friends dance around me. I grab my phone to get some pictures of them when I notice a new notification. 

Lando: what are u up to on a Friday night as a college student? 

Lando and I have been texting non stop since the end of the 2019 season, our friendship solidified. We even hung out a couple of times in between Christmas and new years. And now he has been bugging me that I’ve been working and studying too much. 

Me: I’m at a frat house party 

He instantly replied back. 

Lando: YOURE WHERE DOING WHAT 

Me: I’m at a frat house party 

I smirk to myself as I texted back the same question then before. 

Lando: no way, you’re messing with me 

I open the camera of my phone, scratching my arm out as I smile hazily before snapping a picture and sending it to him. 

Lando: OMG ARE U DRUNK???? 

Me: yessss 

I expected him to make fun of me, but his answer caught me a bit of guard. 

Lando: are u alone? 

Lando: who’s with u? 

Me: my friends are around here somewhere 

There a few minutes of silence from his since and I wonder if our conversation is over. He probably fell asleep. 

My phone buzzes again. 

Lando: how are u going home? 

Me: I’ll walk back to my apartment, why? 

He’s typing and typing and typing. I bite my lip anxiously, wondering what he’s going to say. Is he going to ask me to let him pick me up? Like in those romance books where the guy picks up the girl from a party when she’s drunk? 

Lando: ok 

My face falls momentarily. 

Lando: I’m not in London  

Lando: be careful and text me when you get home safe 

I smile, so he was considering picking me up. 

Melbourne, Australia, 2020 

The world was insane, and I was going insane with it. I was higenyzing my hand every time I touched something. I was in an alert state of the coronavirus. 

“They should have canceled the race.” I say, taking a seat with Lando, Carlos and Caco at the McLaren hospitality. “They are saying there are employees who got infected.”

I squeeze hand sanitizer on my hand, rubbing it. 

“You’re talking about as if it’s some kind of zombie apocalypse.” Lando chuckles, draping his arm casually over the back of my chair “Relax, they wouldn’t keep up the race if it wasn’t safe.” 

Carlos nods “Lando is right.” 

I scoff with a tense smile “Oh, but they would. FIA doesn’t care about it, they care about the money. They always have and always will.” 

The boys are silent for a moment before Caco nods his head. 

“Hamilton and Vettel said something similar during the press conference.” He says “And they’ve been around the same amount of time you have.” 

My phone rings and it’s Sophie calling. I quickly brings it to my ear, listening to what she has to say. My frown only deepens when she says two McLaren employees tested positive for covid and that there are more people around the paddock with symptoms as well. 

I hang up the phone. 

“The teams principals are gathering together to get FIA to cancel the race.” I tell them, watching as both drivers’ faces fall in disappointment “Two McLaren employees tested positive and there are other people around the paddock who are feeling ill as well.”

We gather our things and start to make our way to the McLaren garage, probably the news will get there first if the race is canceled. 

I hang back on the group and Lando slows his steps to walk beside me. 

“Can’t believe we just got back and we’re already going to leave and be without racing.” He groans, a whine voice a bit high pitched.

“It’s better for it to be canceled and you getting the chance to race again when it’s safer, then getting sick and ending up in the hospital.” 

He sighs, shoulders slumping slightly. 

“You’re right. I was just excited to give my all at this new season.” 

I smile “I know, and you will soon.” 

He smiles back at me, nudging me with his shoulder. 

“So, are you gonna be able to graduate this spring?” 

“I am! I mean, I’ve been doing everything possible for it to happen and I think it will.” 

Lando smiles and for a brief moment his fingers brush against mine in a sweet gesture. 

“That’s great. I’ll make sure to be there cheering for you at your graduation.” 

And my heart flutters at his words. 

PANDEMIC  London, England, 2020 

“Did I do it right? Are you listening to me?” I ask into the microphone I bought. 

Lando’s face show up on the screen of my computer, grinning widely. 

“Hiiii! Yes, you did. Now turn on your camera so I can see your face.” 

“How do I do it?” I ask, completely lost as I had never used the app discord before. “Oh, never mind, found it.” 

“Look at you!” Lando beamed “Are those bunny ears on your hoodie?” I chuckle as I put on the hoodie over my head so he can see the bunny ears “You look adorable! Doesn’t she look adorable, chat?” 

I tilt my head to the side, confused.

“Chat? What chat? It’s just the two of us here.” 

Lando laughed “I’m streaming, muppet.” 

“You’re what?!” I screech “Lando! Why didn’t you tell me we’d be live? I’m in my pijamas!” 

He laughs again “You still look adorable and the chat agrees with me.”

I huff, flustered at his words and at the fact that I’m live for god knows how many people while I’m wearing my bunny pajamas. If people didn’t take me serious before, they never will now. 

“Now, here’s what we’re going to do.” He claps his hand, a mischievous smile on his face “You’re going to play LOL with me.” 

“LOL? But I only know how to play the sims.” 

“Yes, you’re going to play LOL. I think it’s the easiest for now.” 

As I download the game and start to follow the tutorial, all while sharing my screen with Lando and him judging me at how I can manage to keep dying on the tutorial, I wonder how in the holy hell he managed to convince me to play online with him. 

Finally, after an eternity, I finish the tutorial and I start to play with him. Lando keeps instructing me because I don’t even know what buttons to press on my keyboard and he keeps screaming that I’m not running fast enough. 

“Oh my God!” I scream “I died! I died!” 

Lando laughs delighted. 

“My screen is black and white! Why is my screen black and white? Is my computer broken? LANDO!” 

That only makes him laugh harder, that infectious laugh of him as I keep yelling questions of what I should do next. 

My dad opens the door to my bedroom, peeking his head inside, looking concerned as he calls out my name. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” He asks, walking further into the room “I can hear you screaming from the living room.”

“Yeah, sorry dad. I’m playing online with Lando and I died.” 

My father chuckles, bending down slightly to look at my screen. He smiles at Lando while waving. 

“Hello, Lando. Have you been taking care of yourself while quarantining?” 

Lando smiles back as he nods “Yes, I have. Your daughter also texts me everyday reminding me what I can and can’t do. It’s like she thinks I will die because I’m living on my own.” 

My dad looks amused at me, but he knows I’m right and Lando would have probably set his house or fire by now if I haven’t been instructing him properly on certain things. 

My dad pats my head as he stands up straight again “I will leave you kids to it. Take care, Lando.” 

“Thank you, Jenson! You too!” Lando smiles. “Now, where were we?” 

Later that night, after four hours of online gaming with Lando, I lied in bed scrolling through my social medias. I couldn’t help to read the comments people were making about our live stream together. 

Jenson Button worried about Lando I CANT

OMG y/n checking up on Lando daily to make sure he survives 

So am I the only one who thinks there’s something there? 

She can’t suck on her dads fame anymore bc he’s retired so now she’s going after Norris 

I sigh, closing Twitter and putting my phone on the bedside table. People are mean. 

Spielberg, Austria, 2020 

July and we’re back at Formula 1. The season is being cut short, there won’t be fans attending, but we’re back at racing. 

I finished my finals a week ago, just in time to go back to traveling. My dad gave an hour-long lecture about safety and health before finally letting me board the plane. 

I haven’t seen Lando and Carlos yet, but I have met uncle Seb who is pissed off at Ferrari for firing him over the phone. I could tell for the way he was talking about meetings and stuff he has to do that he’s plotting something and I couldn’t help but smirk at whatever hell fire he will bring down on Mattia Binotto. 

I enter the McLaren garage and I smile underneath my mask as I see Lando talking to his engineer. He turns his head when he hears my footsteps. 

He basically bonces on his feet until he meets me halfway. 

“Hi!” He says loudly “It’s so good to finally see you in person again!” His eyes are wide “Can I hug you? I want to hug you. I know I probably shouldn’t, but I want to. I haven’t touched anyone in months and and…” 

I cut him off with a laugh as I wrap my arms around his middle, resting my head on his chest. Lando brings his arms around me, squeezing me onto his body. 

“Hi, Lando. I missed your energetic aura.” 

I feel his grin against my shoulder, even with half his face covered in a mask. 

“I missed you.” He says back. 

He detangles himself from he hug, but keep his hands on my shoulders. He analyzes my face. 

“You really do look good with bangs.” 

I chuckle, running my hands over the bangs I cut on my hair after a moment of reflection and desperation when I couldn’t leave the house. 

“Thank you. It was a moment of… insanity, but at least it looks good.” 

He laughs “Oh I know. You texted me like fifteen times saying you did something horrible and it was just bangs.” 

I shake my head “Hey, to be fair you called me at two in the morning to ask me how to kill a wasp and I had to wake up my dad to ask him.” 

Lando's eyes widened in mock sadness. 

“Hey, your dad loves me! I’m sure he was very very delighted to be woken up in the middle of the night to give out instructions on how to kill a wasp.” 

I snort out a laugh. 

Later that weekend, after the race was finished, I watched as Lando parked his car in p3. It was the first podium of his Formula 1 career. He had been screaming on the radio during the last five laps and I was grinning like an idiot behind my mask. 

He got out of the car, helmet still on as he ran to the team, letting them hug him and clap his back. The whole McLaren garage was in a frenzy of celebration. 

I’m waiting for him by the parc fermé, to guide him to the podium and then to the press conference room where they interview the winner, second and third place of the race. 

Lando takes off his helmet and balaclava and I see his whole face for the first time this year. He has a huge smile on his face as he runs to where I am. 

“My first podium!” He yells 

I smile “Congratulations, Lando. It was beautiful to watch.” 

He wraps his arms around me, jumping around and making me jump with him as I laugh. 

“My first podium! Oh fuck! I’m gonna get a trophy!” 

I giggle, letting him jump around with me “Yes, you are, Lando, you’re getting a trophy!” 

He then stop jumping and just gazed into my eyes, the smile never dropping out of his face. 

“Fuck, I’m so glad you’re the one here and not Sophie.” 

My heart leaps on my chest. 

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” 

Silverstone, England, 2020 

It was the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend, there were going to be two weekends of races here. My dad had decided to come along since this is his home race and he wants to relive some of the memories. 

I walk inside the McLaren hospitality with my dad who is babbling about my graduation to one of the mechanics that have been working here since his driving days. 

I hear someone yell my name and I know that voice very well. I turn around and there is Lando, no mask on his face, grinning widely. 

“Hey.” I smile back, walking to where he’s sitting 

He stands up fast and lifts his hands up, holding a beautiful bouquet of pink flowers. 

I gasp in surprise. 

“I couldn’t go to your graduation because the attendance was limited, but I couldn’t let it pass by.” He hands me the flowers before enveloping me in a hug “Congratulations, love. I’m very proud of you.” 

For some reason his words and sweet gestures make tears gather in my eyes. It’s probably because I was expecting my graduation to be a big even, full of people who I love and cherish and that didn’t happen because of the pandemic. 

“Thank you, Lan. This means a lot to me.” 

He squeezes me before letting me go. He wipes some of the tears that leaked out to my eyes. 

“I know this is a special moment and you wanted it to be a big celebration. We’ll go out to celebrate once things get better, alright? My treat.” 

I smile, hugging the flowers to my chest. 

“You’re the best, Lan.” 

He winked at me. 

“Only the best for my best girl.” 

My dad stood to the side, watching the scene with a smile on his face. I didn’t know that now, but he took pictures of all of that happening. 

Krasnodar Krai, Russia, 2020 

Carlos broke the news to the team two weeks ago during our weekly zoom calls. Lando had shut himself out the moment his best friend on the grid said he’s leaving McLaren to go to Ferrari. 

He hasn’t been answering my texts or sending me TikToks. He even declined my calls and I was growing not only worried, but annoyed as well. 

I knock on his hotel door late at night. My flight had landed an hour ago, I got to the hotel, showered and now here I am knocking on his door. 

Lando opens the door, his curly hair disheveled and he’s only in sweatpants. 

“You’re not room service.” He says 

I glare at him. 

“You’ve been ignoring me.” I accuse him, hands on my waist. 

“I uh… I’ve been busy…” he stretches the back of his neck “a lot of work.” 

“We work together, I know you haven’t been busy.” I glare even harder now “Stop lying to me.” 

He stepped to the side and let me inside his room. I walk past him, going to the middle of the room as I stand there with my arms crossed. Lando sits on the bed and looks at me. 

“What’s going on with you?” I ask 

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” He answered too quickly. 

“Lando… you’ve been ignoring me ever since Carlos told us that he’s leaving for Ferrari.” 

He grows quiet and looks away from me. 

I sigh. “Lando, just because he’s switching teams it does not mean he won’t be your friend anymore. It will be a bit different because you won’t be together all the time like the past two years, but he’s not gonna forget about you.” 

He nods. “I know. Carlos already told me all that.” 

“Then why have you been ignoring me?” I ask confused. I thought he was isolating because he was sad that Carlos is leaving, but if he’s already on good terms with it, than what’s wrong. 

“Because I’m preparing myself from when you leave me as well.” Lando says, he doesn’t look at me, his eyes trained on the carpet floor. 

“Wha- What?” I ask completely dumbfounded “What do you mean when I leave you as well?” 

He runs a hand through his hair “You’re an intern at the communication department and- and you just graduated from uni. I know you will leave me at the end of the year as well. You’ll move on to much bigger and better things. I’m just… trying to soften the blow of being without you.” 

There’s a moment of silence as I process his words. He still won’t look at me and I’m too stunned to speak anything. He’s sad because he doesn’t want to be without me. 

Finally, I snap out of it. 

“Oh Lando.” I whisper softly, kneeling in front of him and peering up at him. “Lando, no.” 

He shakes his head “I know, ok? I’m not dumb…” 

I cup his face in my hands to get him to stop talking. He looks at me in surprise and I can see the broken look in his eyes. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Please, don’t lie to me.” He whispered brokenly “Just rip the bandaid already.” 

“I’m not lying.” I say, catching a stray tear from his eye with my thumb and wiping it away. “McLaren hired me to be their junior PR manager. You would have known that if you haven’t been declining my calls, you muppet.” 

He widens his eyes. 

“You’re not leaving?” 

I shake my head “No. You’re stuck with me.” 

Lando breaths out a laugh, resting his forehead against mine as he closes his eyes. 

“Oh, thank god. I’m not ready to say goodbye.” 

I smile, enjoying our close proximity. 

“You don’t have to say goodbye. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Good… good.” He mumbled. “I don’t want you to leave my side.” 

We stay like that for a few moments longer, before he helps me stand up from the floor. Lando pats the bed and I soon join him. We lay on opposite sides, he covers us up and we stay in silence, enjoining each other's company as we fall asleep. Right now we don’t need to say anything, everything is understood in the comfortable silence that hugs us. 

Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2020

It was yet once again the last race of the season. 

Lando had a great finish in p5, and although he had a happy smile on his face we took team pictures and toasted, I could see he was sad. This was Carlos's last race as Lando’s teammate. And I could see Carlos was a bit sad as well. 

The team principals had gathered together and rented out a club in the city so the party would be just the Formula 1 team and drivers. We had been traveling together all year in the middle of the chaos of the pandemic, so we were all kind of in the same boat, if someone was sick, the odds of everyone else also being sick were extremely high. 

I watched from a far as Lewis celebrated his seventh championship. I chuckled as he, Valtteri and Toto started a shot competition between the three of them. Sebastian was chanting chug chug chug and waving his hands around. 

I feel the familiar presence of Lando standing beside me as he nurses his drink. 

“How was your second year as a Formula 1 employee?” He asks me. 

I smile against the rim of my glass. Just one year ago he had asked me the same question, at the rooftop of the VIP lounge at the paddock, hours before the last race of the season began. 

“It was weird. My last year as an intern, next year I will have to reinvent myself to be on top of my game.”

“You’re already on the top of your game.” He nudges my shoulder with his arm. 

“Yeah, but I still haven’t proved myself here.” I point out. 

Lando frowns, turning his body around to look at me. I’m leaning against the wall and now he’s looming over me. 

“Have you been getting hate online?” 

I give him a weak smile. 

“Let’s not talk about this right now. Tonight is about celebrating.”

He’s still frowning and opens his mouth to protest when I cut him off. 

“How was your second year as Formula 1 driver?”

He chuckles, probably recalling the same memory from last year. He rests his forearm on the wall right beside my head. 

“It was good and weird. I got my first podium ever. I also lost my first teammate…” Lando smiles a bit. “And I got you to be here with me one more year.”

I smile, raising my glass. 

“Here’s to another year of Norris and Button traveling around the world together.”

Lando grins, clinking his glass against mine. 

“Together.” He repeats. 

[mj0702]

For @helen-with-an-a and her master brain and for @valewosomtb because she's now officially allowed to run people over now

You just wanted to do something nice. For Ona. Who looked after you the whole week while Lucy was away all the way back in England to “get some things sorted” - namely selling the house Keira and she bought all those years back. The house you basically grew up in. But now was not the time to dwell on long gone things. Now was the time to worry. To worry about Ona. She was maybe small – but she was also damn scary.

You watched all them firefighters weaseling in and out of your (Onas and Lucys) house in their full firefighter clothes with breathing mask so they don't inhale all the smoke. The smoke you inhaled. Oh Lucy gonna be so pissed. You sat in the back of an ambulance, your arm bandaged all the way up to your shoulder an oxygen mask over your nose and mouth like you were starring in an episode of Grey's Anatomy. You looked up at the paramedic who smiled at you with pity in her eyes as she pulled another liquid into a new syringe

“Hey ehrm... quick question” you said your voice raspy as you pulled the mask from your face

“Yes?” the paramedic – who looked a LOT like princess norwegian – looked away from the medication and right at you

“Ehrm... how long will that take until everything is done and all of you guys are gone again?” you asked a little embarrassed

“You got a deep 2nd degree burn and a smoke in your lungs and you really want us to go?” the dark haired medic asked confused

“Yeah...” you looked up shyly

“Yeah sorry that's not going to happen” the woman said smiling slightly “... we need to take you into hospital but we have to wait for an adult that gives us consent to do so... so no, we won't leave in the next few minutes”

“I'm an orphan...” you quickly said

“Oh please” the dark haired woman snorted “... you really think we don't know who you are? If I have to I contact Alexia Putellas”

“Ona is going to kill me” you mumbled as you pulled the mask back over your nose

“Ona Batlle” the paramedic asked as she pushed the liquid into you IV

“Yeah...” you croaked under your mask before you started to cough

“Looks like you're out of luck...” the spanish paramedic smirked nodding towards the end of the street where you could see a black Cupra with an open drivers door and a blonde woman sprinting up the hill towards the scene

“Fuck me... hide me....” you coughed “... better... kill me... you're probably way softer about it... she'll just rip me head off”

“The panicked expression on her face tells me she won't rip your head off” the woman smiled after she took a quick glance at Ona

“That's her disguise... she always looks nice and friendly and approachable but no no....” you croaked out “... she's pure evil... small... but pure evil... she didn't allow me dessert the last three nights”

“So evil” the woman snorted “... is that why you tried to get into her good books again?”

“No.. that was supposed to be just a thank you” you mumbled

“Bebita...” Ona suddenly appeared next to the ambulance her face panicked her breathing labored

“I swear I had good intensions” you immediately said shuffling back a little bit

“Are you okay?” the blonde spaniard asked checking you over “Your arm... what's with your arm?”

“2nd degree burn... we have to take her in but we needed an adult to give consent” the paramedic woman said trying to keep her face neutral but everyone could see the smirk that was forming on her lips

“Yes yes of course...” Ona said quickly “... take her”

“What?” you squeaked out shocked “... you can't let them take me”

“To the hospital Bebita... I promise I'm right there with you okay?” the blonde said gently

“Just hop in... you can ride with us” the dark haired woman said and immediately Ona stepped into the Ambulance

“Ona.....” you whined as you saw the doctors and nurses speed walking past your hospital bed

“It's okay Bebita” Ona said softly holding your left hand her thumb stroking over your knuckles in a calming manner

“No.... everything went wrong” you felt tears prickle in your eyes

“I don't care what happened Bebé...” the spaniard said gently “.... all that matter is that you are okay”

“No...” you chocked out

“No? What you mean no?” Ona asked confused

“I ruined everything” you sobbed as Ona started to brush your tears away

“No no Bebita... everything is okay... you are okay and that's I need” the blonde kept her voice soft

“I swear I just tried to make something good” you kept crying and at one point Ona realized it was the painkillers that made you cry

“Something good hm?” Ona smiled when she saw how the pain medication kicked in

“I wanted to make you paella” you sobbed heartbreakingly “... like you always make it”

“Oh Bebita” the blonde sighed

“I went with Mapí to the market thingy to buy sea creatures and that was a disaster because Mapí bought a whole fin thing” you started to ramble while Ona had to bite her lip hard to not burst out laughing “... a WHOLE one... with all the inside stuff... when she asked if I wanted a whole fin thing I thought she meant like... not whole...”

“Hm...” Ona just hummed amused

“... and then we got some of them... crab snippy thingies... the bigger ones... the ones that always look at Lucy when she eats them” you kept on rambling not even caring that Ona had to work really hard not to burst out laughing at your misery “... and I said “just two” and Mapí talked speed spaniard and you know I can't follow speed spaniard”

“I know Bebita... your spanish got very good” the blonde praised you but you didn't even noticed it as you just kept on talking

“... I wanted to snippy snappies not two kilo... so I had a whole fin thing with inside stuff and a bag full of snippy snappies... and Maps was so proud of herself that she was the bestest translator that I couldn't tell her she got it all wrong” you sniffed

“What happened then?” Ona asked keeping you occupied since you didn't even noticed the nurse that started to change your bandage

“Well... I went to the beach and made a snippy snappie race to see which ones are the slowest so I wouldn't kill the best ones... they have the best chance to survive... so I let them free on the beach but they didn't race each other... they... just ran in different directions and in the end I had no snippy snappies” you sobbed “... but I still had the fin thing so I went home and thought I just make rice with fin thing for you and order burger for me... I don't like fin thing... bleh”

“I know Bebita... you don't like fish... or sea food in general” the blonde smiled

“So when I came home I had to... cut..” you started to heave

“Deep breath Bebita....” Ona said calming

“Do you know how much things fin things have inside them... so so many things” you gagged again “so I got all the insides outside and I figured we need an alligator so the insides just don't lay around on the outside in the kitchen”

“An alligator? You could have also just used the trash bin” the blonde chuckled

“His name is Jesús... he'll be such a good gator...” you said wishfully as a doctor checked out your arm making you wince in progress

“So you really prepared a fresh fish for me Bebita” Ona said distracting you from the pain

“Yeah... it was really bleh...” you scrunched up your nose your eyes glassy

“So... how did you end up occupying a whole fire department?” the blonde mused

“Oh yeah... so I made the rice yeah... I followed the YouTube steps to the brim...” you got back on track of your retelling what happened “... and put the fin thing in the pan... and then I remembered that I saw that thing on that show...”

“That thing on that show?” Ona asked confused

“Yeah... you know...” you showed a pan swivel motion

“No.. I don't but please continue” the blonde shook her head

“So I looked in Lucys adult cupboard...” you started again

“Wait... Bedroom or living room??” Ona interrupted quickly

“There's an adult cupboard in the bedroom?” you asked confused tilting your head

“No... no... absolutely not” the blonde back paddled quickly shaking her head

“Oh... okay... alcohol is not good in the bedroom... only alcoholics have alcohol in the bedroom” you slurred “... so I went to get some of the alcohol and put it in the pan like they always do in the show”

“Oh god...” Ona groaned suddenly knowing what you were talking about

“So I tried to make it extra crispy but it wouldn't... poof you know” you looked at Ona but in reality you looked through her “... so I took a match and threw it in there and then it went... poof... big poof”

“Oh Bebita” the blonde started to pinch the bridge of her nose

“I tried to extinct the fire but then my sweater got very warm and it got very... smoky and yeah... next thing I know is that the men with the heavy boots kicked in the door” you at least had the audacity to look guilty

“Bebita... I really appreciate you going out of your way to make dinner for me but PLEASE don't get yourself in danger like that” Ona said seriously but you were already looking in the other direction

“Did you know we are in a hospital?” you asked looking around in awe

“I'm feeling like I lived through that before” the blonde mumbled as you pointed at an exit sign

“That's so pretty” you said in awe “Pretty green”

“Mhm...” Ona hummed stroking over your forehead trying to calm you down so much that you fall asleep

“You’re also very pretty…. Pretty spaniard” you slurred

“That would be Alexia but thank you Bebita” Ona chuckled

“Oni...” you mumbled “... I'm getting sleepy”

“Then sleep Bebita” the blonde whispered gently hoping you would listen to her

“But the green is so pretty” you mumbled your eyes darting back to the exit sign

“I'll get you your very own pretty green sign if you close your eyes and sleep for a few minutes” Ona said softly

“Okay” you sighed deeply closing your eyes falling asleep instantly

“No Lucy... she's not badly hurt” you heard Ona speaking softly her thumb still running over your knuckles “.... her arm is burned and she inhaled a bit of smoke but the docs say she'll be good in a week or so”

You made a low whining sound resulting in Ona looking up and over at you

“She's waking up...” the blonde said into the phone “... I'll call you later okay? Yeah... Love you too”

“Hey Bebita... how are you feeling?” Ona asked softly

“Me throat hurts” you whine still half asleep

“That was to be expected Bebé” the blonde hummed stroking over your cheek

“I really didn't mean to cause trouble” you mumbled ashamed

“I know Bebita....” Ona kept her voice soft “.... but Lucy and I decided that you'll take some cooking lessons... with my Mamí”

“It was all Mapís fault...” you whined “... she started the whole fuck up with buying the wrong fish”

“We'll work on your cooking okay?” the blonde said gently seeing how your eyes start to fall shut once again “... sleep some more Bebita... I'll be here when you wake up again”

“Hey Bubs...” you heard a soft voice next to you “... open your pretty eyes for me okay?”

“Five more minutes” you mumbled trying to turn away just to turn onto your burned arm making you shoot up clutching your arm in pain

“Easy Bubs...” Lucy reacted quickly moving your hand away from your bandaged arm “... easy... breath Bubs”

“Owie” you whined tears shooting into your eyes

“Yeah.... you really outdid yourself this time” your sister chuckled “... Keira is not happy”

“Owie” you whined again

“Mhm...” Lucy hummed “... I just woke you up so I can force some more medication down your throat”

“No” you looked at your sister pitifully

“Yes...” your sister smiled gently “... come on Bubs... just two pills and then you can sleep again”

“Lucy” you whined just realizing your sister sitting next to your bed – your own bed “... when did I go home?”

“I got you home last night” Lucy smiled still holding two pills in her palm

“I....” you looked confused

“I know... you were dead to the world” your sister chuckled “Open”

“Nooooo” you whined pulling your head away from Lucy

“Bubs you know I will get these pills down your throat” Lucy said gently grabbing your chin “It's either you take them or I'll make you OR I'll get Keira... you have to take them... one is a painkiller and one is an antibiotics”

“You're so mean” you huffed but opened your mouth

“I know... good girl” your sister smiled popping the pills into your mouth holding out a glass of water “... swallow”

“I'm not Ona” you grumbled as you grabbed the glass

“Don't start....” Lucy warned you but still smirked “... open”

You opened your mouth showing your sister you swallowed the pills

“Good.... now... will you behave when Ona changes your bandages?” your sister asked

“It won't hurt right?” you asked scared

“No.... the nurses showed us how to do it” Lucy said gently as Ona entered the room carrying several bandages and creams

“No no no no no” you said as you saw the materials shuffling away from where Ona put the stuff down

“It's okay Bubs” your sister said calmly “... it's not going to hurt”

“I don't like that” you tried to get away but Lucy quickly got you and just pulled you in between her legs so you have know chance to run

“It's okay.... it won't hurt” Lucy repeated over and over again

“No Lucy please” you sobbed as your sister hugged you tightly into her

“Okay... okay... calm down” your sister said quickly “... we won't do it”

Ona shot Lucy a quick look and Lucy just shook her head before she returned to whisper sweet nothings against your temple to calm you down

“I thought we won't change...” Ona started half an hour later

“.... she's out cold... of course we change her bandages...” Lucy said as she carefully held your arm for Ona to unwrap it

“She's going to kill us” the blonde catalan mumbled working as quickly as she could

“We'll let her call Alexia later... she'll wake up high as a kite again.... she'll be so happy to talk to the “pretty spaniard” for as long as she wants” your sister grinned making her girlfriend chuckle

“I'm sorry Lucy... I really am” Ona said her voice low as she carefully pulled the compresses off your arm cleaning the burn

“What are you sorry for?” Lucy asked confused still holding your arm

“You trusted me with her... she got hurt... I should've...” the blonde started her voice breaking slightly

“Babe no... no no no” your sister quickly interfered “... it's not your fault”

“You left her under my watch and she got hurt... how can it not be my fault?” Ona sniffled lightly as she started to wrap your arm back up

“She's a klutz Babe... no one holds you responsible... not Keira... not Bubs... and definitely not me” Lucy said seriously “... you know how often she got hurt just because I turned around for a second... trouble finds her... I swear there's ONE glass shard on the whole beach... I guarantee you you she'll steps into it...”

“I got so scared when I saw all these firefighter trucks and ambulances....” the blonde confessed lowly “... I got scared for her but then I also got scared you could hate me”

“I could never hate you Baby... I love you” your sister said softly as she gently placed your arm back down

“.... now let get out of here and let her sleep and I show you just how much I love you” Lucy smirked pulling Ona out of the room while you snored peacefully