#So now instead of general medical nursing

[sweetdreamspootypie]

Plagueblogging / covid nursing 2023

[thethingything]

also shoutout to the hospital for sending us a bunch of PDFs with information about preparing for surgery and what to expect, except the information was all generic stuff where most of it does't actually apply to wisdom tooth removal, so I had a huge panic attack where I nearly threw up because a bunch of the stuff mentioned in there is extremely triggering for us, only to then find out that stuff literally doesn't apply anyway, but now I feel like I have even less of an idea of what to actually expect because it's so hard to figure out which information does apply

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part One: My Boyfriend's Father

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

It was 15 months ago when you first met the man who, unbeknownst to you, would eventually become the center of your disastrous life and that man was not your current boyfriend Maximilian Murphy, a twenty-two-year-old Irishman from Dublin.

You had been going out with Max for about a year when you met the man who changed everything for you and, whilst Max was almost an entire year younger than you, you had both met at London's top medical school after he had transferred from Trinity College. 

Max was energetic, confident and intelligent. He was popular with the girls and, although you were drawn to him because of his sense of humor and easygoing nature, it was quite obvious to you that he was much less serious about life in general than you were. 

After a year of non-serious dating, Max eventually told you that he was taking you to Dublin for his father's 46th birthday and it was then when you first laid eyes on him. Cillian Murphy, your boyfriend's father. 

The name "Cillian Murphy" didn't ring any bells for you at the time as you had never seen any of his films, but now, 15 months later, you knew everything that there was to know about him due to the publicity his movie Oppenheimer had received in recent weeks. 

You went to see the movie too with some friends and whilst you had broken up with Max about a year earlier, you happened to recall the weekend you shared with him and his family in Dublin. 

Both Cillian and his wife Danielle made you feel welcome when you arrived with their son Max late on a Friday afternoon at their large Victorian townhouse near the coast, just outside Dublin.

The house was decorated with tasteful modern furniture and a collection of modern art hung on the walls. The living room featured large windows overlooking the sea with heavy curtains blocking the view when needed.

You spent most of Saturday relaxing by the pool with Max, swimming and sunbathing before enjoying a dinner prepared by Danielle for her husband's birthday.

As you sat down at the table, Cillian seemed distracted, and it wasn't until the second glass of wine that he asked you more about yourself and your aspirations.

"So, what do you want to specialize in?" he asked and you looked down at your plate and replied softly, "I haven't decided yet. I think I might enjoy working in pediatrics."

"Working with children can be emotionally demanding," Cillian said, "but I am sure it's  incredibly rewarding," he then went on to say before acknowledging that Max had told him that you were at the top of your class. 

"It sounds like you have a bright future ahead of you," he told you and your heart fluttered a bit as you heard his voice, deep and resonant, filled with warmth and confidence. It was a contrast to Max's playful teasing, something about which made you feel comfortable and safe.

Danielle, Cillian's wife, chimed in with a question for you, "What got you interested in medicine in the first place?" she asked. You paused for a moment, considering how best to explain such a complex answer.

"Well, my dad was a doctor, so healthcare was a part of our household growing up," you began thoughtfully. "But the real turning point came during high school when I visited a friend who was hospitalized with leukemia. Her doctors and nurses took such great care of her, and it really opened my eyes to the impact that medicine could have on people's lives."

Cillian nodded along, seemingly genuinely interested in your response.

"That's amazing," he murmured. "You are genuinely empathetic and that's a good trait to have, especially as a doctor," he went on to say with a smile and you couldn't help but blush slightly under his intense gaze. His piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through you, making you feel vulnerable in a way you hadn't felt before. But instead of feeling uncomfortable, you found yourself strangely drawn to him. There was something magnetic about him, something that made you want to spend more time with him despite the fact that he was twice your age.

The day after his birthday party, while you were lounging around the poolside, you couldn't help but notice Cillian looking at you intently from across the lawn. His eyes held a mysterious glint, a curiosity that seemed to grow stronger every minute.

As if sensing your presence, he approached you and started a friendly conversation. The topics ranged from movies to books, and even personal interests. It was a pleasant surprise finding out that both of you shared a love for Jazz before Max pointed out to you that Jazz music was for "old people", causing Cillian to laugh.

The sound of Cillian's laughter was soothing and comforting.

You felt butterflies in your stomach as adrenaline surged through your veins. You tried to compose yourself, focusing on the casual exchange of small talk, hoping to distract yourself from the strong attraction you felt towards your own boyfriend's father.

But no matter how hard you tried, those enchanting blue eyes kept drawing you back in. The subtle smell of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses with a mix of excitement and shame.

Luckily for you however, on Sunday morning, Max and you travelled back to London, leaving behind the memory of the lingering gaze that Cillian gave you as you boarded the plane while, in hindsight, you realized that Cillian's gaze did leave something behind - a seed planted between the lines of your otherwise innocent encounter.

In the months that followed, you found yourself thinking about Cillian more often than you expected and, unfortunately for Max, at the same time as fantasizing about his father, you became more and more annoyed by his immaturities. 

And then, one evening, after another argument between you and Max over whether you should go clubbing or stay in and study, you finally snapped.

"This isn't working out anymore, Max," you told it him straight. "We need different things in life and we would be better off breaking up now rather than prolonging something that won't work long term," you told Max, sitting on the bed of his dorm room, causing his chin to drop.

"You don't mean it," he said, sounding shocked.

"Yes, I do," you said firmly as you looked away from him, knowing that he wouldn't understand why you couldn't go on like this.

"No, please, give me another chance. We can make this work," Max pleaded, moving closer to you, reaching out to touch your arm.

"No, Max, I've made up my mind," you said firmly, avoiding his pleading eyes.

You knew that it was only a matter of time before Max would come to terms with the truth, but you also knew that the process would be painful for both of you.

Max moved closer, grasping your hand gently. "Maybe we just need to communicate better," he suggested, his eyes full of hope. "I love you, you know. I am happy to try anything," he continued but you shook your head.

You pulled your hand away, fighting back tears. "I just... I can't anymore, Max," you whispered quietly. "We tried to make it work several times, but our expectations are quite different. I am taking university serious, but you are not. You have different interests and I think that you would be better of with someone else," you confessed, averting your gaze.

"But... but, what about the future? What about us?" Max stammered, desperation seeping into his tone. You remained silent, allowing the silence to hang heavily between you two. Finally, you took a deep breath.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," Max pleaded, his voice quivering. "We have been together for a year, surely we can find a way to make it work. I promise."

You shook your head sadly, unable to meet his desperate gaze.

"We are both still young and year is nothing if you are in your early twenties. I'm sorry, Max," you managed to whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I think it's best if we end things here."

He let out a choked sob, his face crumpling. "Please," he implored, clutching onto your wrist. "Don't leave me like this."

But you couldn't stand it any longer, pulling your arm free. "I need space, Max," you said sharply, rising to your feet.

"I need to focus on myself and my studies right now," you told him while, deep down inside, you knew that something was missing, something was holding you back from fully committing to your relationship.

And it wasn't long before fate intervened as, just over year after your breakup with Max, you ran into Cillian again at a jazz concert in London...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

[sleep-i-ness]

Maybe They're Born With It, Maybe It's Trauma

Summary: You make a new friend at rehab.

Content Warning: Drugs, rehab

TUA MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST

“I hoped we wouldn’t be seeing you back here so soon.” The dour face of Dr Hartleben greeted you as you waltzed into the rehab centre, a grin splitting your face in two.

“How could I stay away? I simply adore the early morning yoga sessions and going around in a circle after lunch explaining why we’re all so fucked up.”

Dr Hartleben’s pursed lips and sour expression conveyed all she had to say on the matter as you turned sharply on the ball of your foot. She took large strides down the corridor, and you had to jog to catch up, your scruffy trainers squeaking on the shiny linoleum floor. This place was like a second home to you, having been in and out every few months for the past 7 or so years.

You’d tried to hold down a steady job, really, you had. But all you had to show for it was a place as a flautist in the local orchestra, which did not pay, and a spacious but surprisingly cheap apartment in the dodgy part of the city. That you’d bought with money from your past life, when everything had been fine and on track to at least a minimal amount of success. But all in all, you’d decided that there was no point in trying to regain some semblance of normalcy in your life when all you ever did was try to escape the ghosts from your past.

Dr Hartleben pushed open the dull aluminium door with your foot, a shaft of sunlight illuminating the room. Ah, home sweet home. The stale scent of iodoform and sweat wafted out and you breathed deeply. This was the one thing that never changed, no matter what.

“You know your way around, the top bunk on the far left is vacant. I expect to see you adding your name to the duty rosters and coming to group therapy this afternoon,” Dr Hartleben was itching to leave you in the confined patient dormitories, barely even standing on the faded doorstep of the room. “Your stuff will be brought to you as soon as it has all been checked.”

You scoffed. “I’m always a model patient, I’d never jeopardise my spot in this wonderful place by bringing shit in with me.”

“Then why are you back again? I’ll leave you to get settled and make your bed. Your sheets should be on the end of your bunk. The others are in the garden, one of the nurses will be round in 10 minutes to escort you.”

With that, the door swung closed, and you were left standing in the dank and poorly lit room. The frosted windows were too grimy to let much light in and the bulb in the lamp buzzed a faint yellow. At least this time you had a top bunk, which was clearly the superior spot.

That was the problem in having so many drug overdoses on your medical record; every so often you’d be sent back into rehab, with or without a court order to stay. You had forgotten the strict rules that had to be followed and the lack of freedom; you didn’t need a babysitter. At least in rehab you wouldn’t be quite so lonely, you had roommates to keep you company now. And everyone had their own demons to face, otherwise they wouldn’t be here. There was no room for judging.

The crisp sheets smelt of starched linen, over washed and firm to the touch. No more comfy bed sheets, you mourned. The mattress was lumpy and had a suspicious dark stain on the plastic that you straight up refused to touch, choosing to flip it over instead and hope that the other side was less grimy.

“Y/N?” A knock sounded at the door and a nurse popped his head round the door, clutching your overflowing crochet shoulder bag. It was a face you hadn’t seen before, and you quickly plastered on your friendliest grin.

“Hi, yep, that’s me. Is my stuff all okay for me to take?” All there was in the bag was a change of clothes, some toiletries and spare underwear. No point bringing anything too nice, someone was bound to nick it otherwise.

“Yeah, yeah.” The nurse returned your smile, holding out the bag for you to quickly grab and sling over the end of your bed. He was quite young, you would guess late 20s to early 30s. You pitied the poor guy, having to deal with them all the time. Well, he had chosen this.

“Dr Hartleben said that the other patients were all in the garden, can I join them?” You skipped over to the door, your colourfully patterned skirt swishing round your ankles. You hadn’t been quite sure that your outfit was particularly fitting for the centre; it had felt a bit too bohemian but seeing the drab and dreary walls reminded you that a pop of colour would do this place some good.

The garden was a bit of an overstatement really. It was more of a paved courtyard with weeds growing between the cracks in the slabs and a couple of small flowerbeds, one of which had been a vegetable garden the last time you had been here but now appeared to have been taken over by weeds. It was the space for the newest patients, who couldn’t be trusted to go into the slightly more expansive grounds yet. It was depressingly barren, and you eyed the patients morosely milling around with a grimace. How boring.

“What’s growing in the beds at the moment?” You turned to the nurse, whose name you hadn’t learnt yet, with a dazzling smile.

“I don’t think there’s anything particular being grown.”

You pursed your lips. How sad. Any life or nature in this place really was stifled and stamped out in the end.

--

You trudged into the group therapy room, eyes following your feet as they left scuff marks on the shiny floor. You slipped into a spare seat, barely making eye contact with anyone else. If you could get out of this without a single person trying to become your new bosom pal, you’d count it as a win.

“Hi, I’m Ella and today we have someone new joining us, so I’d like everyone to go round in the circle and introduce themselves by saying their name and why they’re here. Louisa, if you wouldn’t mind starting off for us.” The irritatingly cheery voice of the therapist was grating on your nerves, you hated these sessions with a passion. What was the need in sharing the same stories every week?

“I’m Louisa and I’m an alcoholic.”

“I’m Mark and I’m a heroin addict.”

“I’m Susanna and I’m a drug addict.”

“I’m Brent and I’m an alcoholic.”

The droning of voices soon became a wave of background noise that washed over you like a sea of calm, each introduction as monotonously boring as the next. The person to your left spoke and you yawned softly, daintily lifting a hand to cover your mouth. “I’m Y/N and I’m an addict.”

There was something so tiring about rehab. Between the withdrawals and the endless therapy and need to be in touch with emotions, it was draining both physically and mentally. You couldn’t wait to get out; you only had a couple more weeks to go.

“And, our newest member, would you like to introduce yourself?” You could practically hear the beaming grin in Ella’s voice, and you rolled your eyes. Bit much.

“I’m Klaus and I’d like to say I’m a tortured soul-” Your head snapped up to look curiously at the newbie. Heavily eyelinered brown eyes stared back at you, a mischievous twinkle shining in them. “But to stick with the same pattern as everyone else, I’m an addict.”

He lifted a ringed hand to wave to the circle, winking at you. And you felt yourself flush, ducking your head from his intense gaze.

Group therapy had never felt so long as today, not that you could recall anything discussed, not when your eyes kept straying towards Klaus. And boy, did he notice. Every time his eyes met yours, he held the eye contact, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you flushed redder and redder.

How unfair that someone this gorgeous was at rehab; how were you meant to even attempt to recover when he kept looking at you!

It wasn’t until the end of the session, as you all shuffled out, that he properly made his way over to you, a cheeky grin on his face. You glanced at him, turning your head back to the door with a small smile which you tried your hardest to fight back.

“Hello, Y/N,” he murmured, voice so low it felt like a conversation that was only for you. And you bit at the inside of your cheek to squash the blush crawling up inside you.

“Hiya,” you whispered, hoping you didn’t sound quite as excited as you felt.

“Come here often?”

You giggled, hating how much like a schoolgirl you sounded, and finally plucked up the courage to make eye contact with him. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Court mandated as well?”

You nodded, picking at a stray thread on your skirt.

“Well, we’ve got each other now.”

And you chewed at your bottom lip, beaming grin splitting across your face as a heady rush of giddiness filled your chest. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

“Want to go see the garden with me?”

You nodded, a little too quickly and eagerly, and he just chuckled at you.

Maybe rehab wouldn’t be as bad this time around.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. [Running Free (Final)]

Decisions have to be made- you can't just run away from them.

Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Dog Hybrid!Reader, comfort, romance??, Fluff, happy end I guess, we finished another one yay

Length: 5k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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You’re being released from the hospital this week.

He’s not too sure how he feels about it, but he knows it’s for the best. The longer you stay in, the more you gain the risk of catching an infection that’ll be resistant to most medication due to the natural environment of a hospital- and you also deserve to go home, wherever that might end up being.

He’ll miss the daily visits, and he will most of all miss the hospital- but he’s made his choice, long term wish of finally having his own office as a hybrid specialist in the city soon to be coming true. The building is currently being renovated from the core, to soon become a place where hybrids can finally be treated without having to have their owners or partners drag them hours away to another location. This had been his dream ever since he’s started med school-

And it looks like if everything goes smooth from now on, it’ll finally come true.

You on the other hand, clearly can’t wait to get outside.

After multiple sessions with a professional, you’ve slowly come to learn that most of the things you’ve been taught weren’t actually true at all. While it’s correct that certain hybrids can’t be outside alone, for most hybrids it’s just a general suggestion- there’s no law against going out alone. So now that you know that you can actually go outside, you constantly ask him if he’ll take you-

And he’d love to, but he just doesn’t have the time.

So instead you’ve gone out with Jimin a few times, while Jungkook would eagerly listen to all the fun stories the nurse would get to experience with you. If he was up for it, you’d probably be really happy with him- but Jungkook knows that Jimin has his reasons for not even thinking about taking you in.

“She’s scratching her ear a lot.” Jimin mentions at lunch, and Jungkook instantly focuses. “I think she might’ve either developed an ear infection or it’s something that’s been brewing for a while.”

“Well, her ears fold over quite a bit so it wouldn’t be surprising.” Jungkook hums as he eats his food. “And since she’s not been outside much her immune system probably isn’t the strongest. I’ll take a look at it later, see if it needs anything prescribed.” He offers, as Jimin falls quiet for a moment, watching the doctor. “what?”

“You have to let her get discharged-“ He starts, but Jungkook instantly shakes his head.

“I will, I will, I’d never do that.!” He argues. “I just want to make sure everything’s alright before she leaves.” He says quietly into his food.

“You could just take her home.” Jimin chuckles. “you’d get to make sure all the time then.” He teases, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Its not that simple. I told you.” He reminds his older coworker, who nods.

“I know, sorry.” He brushes the topic off, before Jungkook’s name is being called out, making Jimin sigh with sympathy for his friend. “I’ll have them wrap it so you can heat it up later?” He asks, and Jungkook nods as he wipes his mouth already standing up.

“Thanks.”

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“hm, yeah, it all looks like it.” Jungkook hums as he inspects your ear, before taking out some cotton swabs and a cleaning solution. “But it’s not bad. Most likely just your immune system being a little over-protective.” He reassures you as he moves to put some of the cleaning solution on the ball of cotton.

“is that bad?” You wonder. “when will I be normal?”

“You’re already normal, don’t worry about that.” The doctor tells you before he holds up your ear to both clean and disinfect it- something you slightly move away from, as it’s uncomfortable. “no no, stay here, yeah?” He tells you, but it’s hard. “you’re doing great..” he mumbles the praise as he makes sure to do a good job while not taking longer than necessary. “Jimin said you saw ducks today?” He tries to distract you, and it seems to work.

“they were in a.. pond, nearby. But there was a fence so I couldn’t get close.” You explain, making Jungkook chuckle. It’s probably for the best you couldn’t- you could’ve fallen into the ice cold waters or gotten lost otherwise. You’re not used to being outside, and Jimin doesn’t have a good sense of what you’re capable of doing and where you should be more supervised than someone else.

You’re holding onto the pink and white little plushy, and he’s again reminded of his choice.

Did he make the right call? Hopefully, because he honestly doesn’t really think that a situation like this will ever truly reoccur like this again. But he had sat down yesterday to go through everything, just to come to a clearer answer for himself. This isn’t something to take lightly, and again, sometimes letting go is the best option to take.

For the rest of the day, you don’t see Jungkook anymore- and neither do you see him the day after, as you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, shoes on your feet and bag packed. Jimin had shed a few tears at seeing you go- but you told him you might visit without needing actual help for once.

The care worker looks nice. He’s wearing a jacket with an official emblem on it for hybrid social work- and he seems really friendly. “You ready?” He asks, and you nod-

There’s no use in waiting for something that won’t happen, after all.

In the small van, you watch all the people and cars pass you by, while the car radio plays slight music on low volume. “if you don’t like the place I’ll bring you, you can always call the number in the phone, okay?” the care worker says, and you nod. The phone you got has a very simplified, easy to understand user interface installed, so it didn’t take you too long to understand how it works. It’s still however quite odd to hold it in your hands.

Everything you thought you knew had been a lie.

“Don’t be afraid to speak up. We’re always just a call away.” He offers, before he parks in front of a tall apartment complex, fancy, high security. He’s being asked twice about where he wants to go and what his name is, as he walks around with you, elevator chiming happily before it opens.

Everything is so.. big. Fancy. Expensive. You shudder, as you remember the last time you’ve been to a place like this.

Will it be the same again? Someone rich and famous buying you just to lock you up and feed you lies? You worry. You really want to go back to the hospital.

When you walk out the elevator and wait in front of another door, you become anxious. But just for a moment, because you start to.. smell something.

And when the door opens, you finally know where you actually are-

As you stand right in front of doctor Jeon, who’s smiling kindly right at you and your wagging tail.

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Jungkook’s apartment is big, very high up in the tall building, and smells like him.

There’s a room just for you, and he’s also got many windows- from the regular balcony and smaller windows in your room, to large one’s going all the way from the floor to the ceiling, showing the tiny city below in the living room. You’re currently sitting on the floor right in front of them, as Jungkook approaches you, sitting down next to you. “You like the view?” He asks, and you nod.

“Do you think I can be an ant now, too?” you ask, and he looks at you a bit confused. “the people.. they look like ants.” You say, pointing to the people all the way down on the ground walking around despite the late hour.

“would you like to be one of them?” He wonders, having brought you a pillow to sit on now- one you happily take.

You nod. “they.. get to have phones. And they meet friends. Or eat at restaurants and drink. Or they buy large stuffed toys.” You explain, and Jungkook realizes that this must’ve been your standard.. or rather only form of entertainment up until now.

Instead of experiencing life, you only got to watch it in silence, secretly.

“Well, you already have a phone. And if you want, we can go eat at restaurants and cafes too- though I might not get you coffee.” He chuckles, watching you look at him now with drooping ears. “it’s bitter.” He explains, and you nod at that.

“Hm.. then maybe something else?” You ask. “but not chocolate. That makes me feel bad.” You tell him, and he internally cringes. Of course it makes you feel bad- you’re a hybrid, and therefore sensitive to it.

“we can check if a Café has hybrid alternatives. I’m sure there’s one.” He tells you, and you smile, tail swishing around a bit as you yawn. “now come on, let’s go to bed.” He says before he gets up, and you look up at him.

“Can I sleep here?” You ask, and much to your surprise, Jungkook nods easily.

“sure. I’ll put your mattress here then.” He offers as he disappears into your room to fetch just that and some bedding to make you comfortable.

This really is quite different from your old home.

You watch how he carefully creates a good bed for you on the floor in front of the window, not just slap everything down there and have you do it yourself. No, this is caring- he even brings out your pink and white plushy that you’ve been given back at the hospital, before he smiles at you who moves to crawl beneath the blankets. “if you need another blanket, there’s one on the couch. And if you end up not liking it here just wake me up and I’ll help you set up your bed in your room again-“ he explains, when your tail just starts wagging wildly beneath the thick bedding.

“Thank you “ You say, and he smiles gently, before he leaves you be.

Even long after he’s switched off his own lights as well, you’re still awake, watching the people down below go about their late night activities. From groups of friends drunkenly stumbling home to couples holding hands, office workers waving for a cab home and policemen patrolling to make sure everything’s alright.

You feel like right now, you’re just one of them as well. Just another being, existing in the same world and same universe as them, experiencing your own life.

And with Jungkook at your side, you already feel like this is going to be the best life ever.

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When you wake up the next morning, it’s slow. Steady. A smooth transition from dreaming to becoming conscious.

Your eyes are still closed while you realize someone’s touching you- but with no ill intentions. Instead, the hands simply adjust the blanket over your body, tucking it back into place so you won’t get cold. He makes no efforts to wake you up at all, instead, Jungkook simply rests a hand on you shoulder for a moment, before he leaves you be.

You can hear him do something in the open kitchen nearby. Your ears tilt towards him, a reaction out of your control.

When he sits down wit his coffee in hand on the couch nearby to watch TV, he catches your now opened eyes- and he smiles. “Good morning.” He offers, and your tail can’t help but react to it as it begins to wag beneath the covers. “slept well?” He asks, and you nod.

You look around for a clock.

“It’s a little past one PM.” He tells you, and you sit up straight at that, shocked. “don’t worry- if I’d wanted you to wake up earlier, I wouldn’t have let you sleep this long.” He reassures you, setting his mug down on the coffee table in front of him. “But it looked like you needed some proper rest, so I let you.”

“I'm sorry.” You mumble, looking to the other side to see the windows show almost nothing from the world outside, fog thick and heavy in the air.

“No need to be.” Jungkook promises. “if you want we can go out later- but the weather isn’t too nice, so we could also very much just stay in today.” He says.

“Don’t you have to work?” You ask, wondering how this will work out in the future as well. Will you have to stay home alone often? Will he at least let you look out of the windows in that case?

“I took my vacation and I’m also finally working on getting rid of all the overtime I’ve collected this year.” He chuckles. “Mostly to help you get used to things, and to.. You know, have you get to know me better.” Jungkook explains, and you nod.

“So... when you go to work again, I’ll stay at home?” You wonder, now relaxing again as a yawn interrupts your words a little, before you stretch your limbs, falling back down onto your makeshift bed.

“We’ll see. I might have someone check in on you once during the day, or I’ll take you to work with me. I’m not too sure about that yet- but we’ll figure it out along the way.” He reassures you. “Right now I believe you should get up and wake up properly, huh?” He laughs, as you nod, slowly standing up to roll up your bedding, struggling a bit to hold it all at once, before you walk into what he showed you is technically your room.

Jungkook smiles. Of course, you don’t have to do this- you could very much just leave it right there and he wouldn’t be bothered, but if this is something you want to do willingly, he will let you. It’ll be very helpful to get you into a comfortable routine as quickly as possible, so he can figure out if he can leave you by yourself, and if so, for how long.

He knows you’re a lot more independent and intelligent than your past owner thought you were- but you still haven’t ever had to live completely on your own, so no one, not even you yourself, knows how you’d handle that. If something was to happen, lets say you drop something in the kitchen and it breaks, it could very much send you into a panic and cause you to get hurt unintentionally. And with him not being home, this could become a problem.

But thats only something in his mind for now. He’ll figure this out somehow.

He has to.

When you come back out the bathroom after getting ready for the day, Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little, waving you closer to where he’s sitting on the sofa. “Turn around for me.” He chuckles, properly pulling your tail out through the designated opening in the back of your shorts. “There we go.” He says, and you sit down next to him now, looking at the windows.

“Why can’t I see the city anymore?” You ask him, and he sets down his coffee, cup now empty.

“Because the clouds are too thick.” He explains. “We’re basically in the middle of them, so that’s why you can’t see.”

“We’re in the clouds?” You ask, mesmerized, and he nods.

“We are.” He agrees.

“So if I went on the balcony, I could touch them?” You wonder, and he laughs.

“I mean, technically? But they’re not soft or anything, so you might be disappointed.” He warns you.

“But you’d let me on the balcony?” You ask, and he nods.

“Clouds are just wet though. You’ll just get a shower, basically.” He laughs under his breath, though he does walk into your room with you, to unlock the glass door to the balcony with a key. “Careful though. Can I hold your hand?” He asks, and you nod, though you clearly look confused. “Just so I feel a bit calmer.”

“Why you?” You ask, not really sure why he’d feel any better holding your hand. “Are you scared of the balcony?” You question him, but he shakes his head with a smile.

“No, but I’m scared of you falling.” He reveals.

“Oh.” You simply answer, taking his hand at that, before you step out into the cloudy outdoors-

But just for a moment, because you quickly realize that Jungkook was right-

Clouds aren’t all that fluffy at all.

⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅

You’re out for the first time with Jungkook, and he has to admit, you’re nothing like he thought you’d be like.

You’re so incredibly great at controlling yourself and your reactions to things, always almost instinctively reaching for him if something becomes too much or if something makes you unsure. It makes him feel incredibly proud- because you clearly already have accepted him as your safety person, always relying on him if you feel like you can’t handle something. You always trust that he will do it for you- and he does, even if he only notices doing it in hindsight.

You sometimes seem to get a bit overwhelmed with eye contact from other hybrids and even humans, and he also notices the way you visibly shrink away from anybody trying to talk to you directly. Its most likely a trained response, taught to you with simple conditioning, and he feels a bit upset about it. But its not all that bad as he thought it might be- overall, you’re handling this day out very well.

You’re currently sitting in a hybrid friendly cafe, your eyes wide as you look at the delicately decorated milk foam on top of your hot chocolate that’s specifically made so that you won’t end up with a stomachache. Jungkook can’t help his smile as he watches you enjoy your little treat- the slice of cake you’re eating clearly being enjoyed to its maximum as you savor every bite.

“Did you know you can actually order all by yourself here?” Jungkook tells you, and your ears instantly tilt towards him at that, as you lick your lips clean of the milk foam from your cup.

“Really?” You wonder. “Me too?” You ask him, knowing very well that technically, hybrids of your category aren’t usually allowed to make any purchases by themselves.

But Jungkook nods. “They have a program here.” He explains. “Basically, I’ll pay upfront, and they’ll take your photo and ID so you can get food or something to drink here anytime you’d like, all on your own.” He informs you, and you nod, amazed.

He noticed that things like that make you feel good. Giving you any form of independence, even if it’s just a somewhat illusion, boosts your confidence. And he loves seeing that.

“But I always want to come here with you though.” You say.

“We can.” He nods happily.

“But I can order?” You ask, making him grin.

“Of course.” The doctor agrees. “I can get you an independence card too, once we both got more comfortable with each other.” He tells you.

“Why’re you doing all that?” You ask, a bit confused as you cut another piece of your slice of cake. “Like.. I always thought guys like it when their hybrids are all.. Dependent and stuff.” You shrug.

“Hm. Maybe because I like seeing you happy. And offering you these things makes you happy.” He explains his intentions.

“Would you ever like me as a girlfriend?” You bluntly ask, and Jungkook stutters in his movements a bit, caught entirely off guard. He’s never really ever thought about that at all, and he’s not sure if he really could- but he can’t deny that he does like you, a lot, already. Not to that degree, but he has to admit-

That could change.

“I’m.. Not sure yet.” He admits. “I can’t tell you a full on answer yet. Why do you ask?” He wonders, and you shrug.

“Just asking.” You tell him. “I’ve been told that hybrids can’t be real girlfriends.” You just say, and he fills in the blanks inside his head by deciding that this narrative must’ve been fed to you by your past owner. It’s a common thing a lot of people who’ve never met any hybrid personally say- because they believe that hybrids are nothing but abominations, or forever unable to really decide anything for themselves, when in reality, this isn’t true at all. Just like regular people, hybrids are all different- some will always have to rely on people, while others don’t need any help at all. There’s even hybrids who have full work permits, live on their own, have families and normal average lifes. It’s more common than one might think.

“That’s not true.” Jungkook denies.

“But like, could a hybrid and a normal person even have children?” You ask, and Jungkook nods.

“There’s evidence that hybrid-human pregnancies are generally safe and usually progress normally. The children inherit some hybrid traits depending on gender of the parent and child themselves, but it’s a lot less and therefore especially the visual traits are typically a lot less prominent.” He rants, taking a sip of his iced coffee before he continues. “It’s actually really interesting, because the children usually end up a lot more resilient to common infections like the flu or the common cold- but it’s not very clear as to why. I personally think it might be because viruses that infect humans behave differently in hybrids- so maybe because of that they’re less vulnerable to these things. They do however show up with problems more common in hybrids though, like eye problems or psychological issues.” He continues, and only after a moment or two does he notice you’ve stopped eating, now just watching him with a smile on your face. “...sorry. I was kind of getting lost there..” He apologizes, but you just laugh, tail wagging wildly.

“No, no, go on!” You cheer him on. “I love that face you make when you talk about stuff you like.” You say.

“The face I make?” He chuckles. “What face do I make?”

“I don’t know- your eyes sparkle, and they get all round. And you gesture with your hands.” You explain. “I didn’t understand most of it, but I’ll still listen.”

And Jungkook smiles.

Because honestly-

That's all he could ever ask for.

⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅

Jungkook has definitely changed his mind on you now, almost a month after living together with you.

You’re very open with your affection towards him, a whole lot better at sensing someone’s attraction than a normal human would be, since you don’t really care about what he could be implying with his words- you only take into account what you know how to interpret. And that’s other cues, like body language, scent, and actions.

You don’t try and read between the lines- you just see things for what they are. And apparently, he’s not very good at hiding any of his growing feelings towards you at all.

And with your confidence rising under his care, you’ve become a real threat to his sanity he feels like- because you’re actively flirting with him, finding way after way to make him flustered left and right, always catching you off guard. And the worst part is that he slowly leans into it, accepting it, and also has begun to initiate such contact as well.

Well, its not really a ‘worst’ part. If anything, it feels like he finally found what he’s subconsciously always been looking for.

You’ve been sneaking your way into his bed at night- and somehow, that evolved into you permanently sleeping next to him in his bed, something that you both just quietly agreed on. This is however, right now, the first time you’re both actively cuddling- slowly testing the water so to speak as you quietly take new steps towards each other. Nothing has to be said in this moment- there's no words needed to really communicate with each other.

He’s never seen you this close, and neither have you.

His hand slowly moves to hold yours, before you place your palm on his, comparing your hand sizes before you giggle still a little sleepy. He doesn’t know why, but somehow, he just feels like its the right thing to do in this moment, as he pulls your hand closer to kiss the back of it, eye contact he holds with you visibly sending out the message he wants to with success as your eyes widen, before you smile a bit shy.

He already has plans on how to incorporate you into his work in the future, so he can always have you somewhat at his side, while also giving you a genuine task you can manage.

You suddenly move closer to him, as he lays on his back now, you hugging him closely so you’re almost halfway on top of him, basking in the physical contact you have with him. You’re both only dressed in comfortable sleeping clothes, nothing but underwear and lazy shirts, and you love this. It’s like you’re currently living in a vacuum, time having no meaning, outside world simply waiting for you both to be ready to continue at any time.

But for now, you just want to stay like this. Close to him.

And its also very clear that he doesn’t mind this situation either- not one bit, as he initiates contact as well, hand running over the length of your arm as he leans his head close to yours. “We have to get up soon.” He tells you, and your ears instantly move towards the sound of his voice, though you whine in protest, clinging to him now. “We can’t stay in bed all day.”

“Why not?” You wonder, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “I like being in bed with you.” You say, wagging tail making it clear that you’re very aware of how this sentence could also be interpreted.

“Do you?” He answers, not backing down anymore as he usually would. “we’re just being lazy. That’s boring, no?” He asks, and you laugh a little, before turning onto your back next to him.

“Well, yeah. But it doesn’t have to be.” You propose, and at that he moves now, leaning over you ad he looks at you beneath him.

“You’re right.” He agrees, voice low because with you being this close, there’s no need for much volume in his words. “I could think of a few things we could do.” He purrs down at you, and you grin, comfortable and even excited. You know exactly what this could mean, and you’re actively seeking this out- you know he likes you in a more personal manner than just hybrid and caretaker. This is so much more than that already.

He just needs to give you a sign- and this might be it.

“Such as?” You ask him, clearly expecting something from him. And he knows what it is.

Wordlessly leaning in to kiss you-

An action that’s instantly returned, in a silent confession of love.

⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅

“this is such a genius idea.” Jimin says, watching you effortlessly keep the young hybrids occupied in the waiting area, while Jungkook goes through patient after patient. “They’re so calm like this. No wonder you’ve become the most sought after doctor for young hybrids.” He tells the younger doctor, who smiles at the scene in the waiting room- all the usually very fidgety hybrids of different kinds listening to you telling them a story, visualized by some stuffed animals you’re holding.

“I couldn’t do it without her.” Jungkook simply says.

“Well, I’ll have to go start my shift in the ER, or Yoongi will rip my head off.” Jimin laughs, before he waves at you, and then Jungkook. “take care!” He says as he leaves-

And Jungkook smiles, as he waves his friend and former coworker goodbye.

"Take care.”

[delulu4dean]

“Withdrawals”

Warnings: suicide, depression, anxiety

Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister!reader, Sam Winchester x sister!reader

Prompt: withdrawal from Cymbalta. Based on my own experience

Word Count: 3,624

You are all packed up to go with your older brothers. They were going all the way to the Redwood Forest, and you didn’t want to be in the bunker all alone.

You aren’t a hunter like them, not yet at least. You’ve studied the lore, and you’ve trained a bit, because after all, you are a Winchester. And the name alone is like wearing a giant “kick me” sign if it said “kill me” instead. No, you’re a student, getting your associates online in the exploratory major because you have no idea what you would want to do other than hunt with your brothers.

Sam and Dean promised John they’ll never let you into the life. Your mom died shortly after you were born. Your dad met your mom on a hunt nineteen years ago. She was a nurse in a hospital. There was one patient who was wrongfully treated, and died due to medical negligence. And boy does a vengeful spirit do a lot of damage. John saved your mom’s life, and they celebrated that night. She got pregnant, and she kept John’s number so nine months later, he picks up the phone to find out he’s got a daughter. Dean overheard the conversation and when John said he wouldn’t go, Dean said he has to. It resulted in a huge argument. John eventually gave in, and they went to the hospital to see you, and Dean knew right there and then he’d do anything to protect his little sister.

Your mom killed herself after she brought you home. Family history of mental illness was bad enough, but the postpartum depression pushed her over the edge.

It was not easy showing up at Stanford trying to explain to Sam that he had a baby sister, and that also your dad was missing. It was especially not easy looking for your dad while they had to take care of a baby. Dean often got babysitters to watch you in the motels they stayed in.

And now here you are, nineteen years old, aimlessly walking through life. You’re getting an associates in nothing specific just to get some general education done. And that history of mental illness in your family is hitting you hard. You’re on antidepressants, a specific one that treats your depression and anxiety.

Dean parks at the motel, and goes to get keys for a room. You don’t mind sleeping on the couch, out of the three of you it only makes sense, you got tall and taller with you, and it just doesn’t seem fair to make them sleep on the couch when you fit so well on it.

Sam and Dean throw on their FBI getup and go start asking questions while you connect your laptop to the motel wifi. Yay statistics, said no one ever. You’re only doing this to make your brothers happy, you don’t see a reason to get a degree. They say it’s useful to get some sort of decent job, or to one day get a further education when you decide what you want to do. But you already know what you want to do, you want to hunt with them.

You don’t know how you ended up on the couch. One moment you were doing homework and… yeah, that’s enough to make you snooze. You look at the time and it’s 8am the next day. You look into your bag and your eyes wide as you realize you left your antidepressants in the bunker.

“Shit!”

Your sudden outburst awakens your brothers as they both shoot up to see what’s wrong with you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam asks as they both run to your side.

“I forgot my meds at home,” you pout.

“Your meds?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

“My antidepressants,” you clarify.

Dean makes an “O” shape with his mouth in response.

“Have you ever missed a day before?” Sam asks you.

“No, and this is going to be longer than a day. How am I going to manage without it?”

“Managing your existing problems is the least of your worries kiddo. You’re going to go through withdrawals,” Dean takes a seat next to you. “One of us can stay with you.”

“I’ll be fine, let’s get breakfast, you guys do your research and then I get back and work on more homework, I’ll keep myself occupied,” you assure your brother. They give each other a worried look, not feeling too sure, but you insist you’ll be fine.

The three of you head to a diner, and you check out the menu while Dean checks out the waitress.

“Perv,” you mumble under your breath.

“Good morning, what can I get for you?”

Dean orders the greasiest breakfast on the menu, with bacon of course. Sam orders some omelette made with just egg whites.

“And for you, hun?” the waitress looks at you with a smile.

“I’d like a plate of eggs, over easy, and sausages. And an order of chocolate chip pancakes with extra whipped cream if that’s possible. And a cup of coffee if that isn’t too much trouble,” you order.

“Coming right up!”

After a couple of minutes the coffee is ready and she serves you and your brothers your coffee. You add a couple of vanilla creamers. You take your first sip, and immediately regret not blowing on it first. The hot liquid burns your tongue. You set your cup down as your stomach growls, begging to be fed.

On a normal day, you could be patient, wait for your food. But today isn’t a normal day, and even though it’s probably a five minute wait, ten at most, you need the food now. Your leg bounces up and down, as your fingers tap on the table.

“Hey kid, are you alright?” Dean asks you.

“Mmhm. Just hungry.”

“The food will be out any minute,” Sam assures you. You nod but it doesn’t make the time pass by any quicker for you.

You watch as the waitress walks over to your table with your food and you sit up. The moment she places your place in front of you, you dig in. Your brothers watch as you focus on your meal. They’ve never seen you eat like this. Normally you try to stay neat and clean while you eat. You talk to them. But right now, your brothers know better than to comment on you eating.

It’s not Dean doesn’t go crazy about food either. It’s just out of the ordinary for you, and you’re off your meds for the next few days, so they’re worried. Eventually they start getting to their research.

After breakfast, your brothers drop you off at the motel, and get on with the case. You open your laptop, log into your student portal, and look at your assignments. This is going to be a long day.

✰✰✰✰✰

You’re sat on the chair in front of your laptop, as you have been all day. It’s been hard to concentrate, you kept checking your phone, playing games. Every time your brothers texted to check in on you, you used it as an excuse to be on your phone again. And then when you finally started concentrating, you didn’t understand it.

You’re sat on your chair, tears streaming down your face. Hugging your knees, you just stare at the screen as the numbers blur together. Math was frustrating. It’s not like you’re bad at it, you’re actually great at it. But your mind is cloudy, and even reading over everything again and again, you’re not processing anything.

You barely made it through your other assignments, and this is all you have left for the day. You’ve been going at it since breakfast, you even skipped lunch to make up for the distractions.

The motel door clicks and creaks open, and footsteps enter the room. You don’t look up from your screen, you just hope they don’t notice your damp face.

“We got dinner,” Dean says, placing the bag on the table in front of you.

“ ‘M-not hungry,” you mumble.

“What do you mean you’re not hungry, what did you have for lunch?” Dean sits at the table, and Sam joins.

You still don’t look up as your brothers take out their food from the take out bag. Dean places your food in front of you as you push it away.

“I’ve been doing homework all day, no time to eat,” you attempt to speak but it all came out in a raspy whisper.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam scoots closed to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“I’m stupid, that’s what’s wrong,” you break down into sobs. “I can’t do simple math equations.”

“You’re great at math,” Dean tries to assure you, but it doesn’t help.

“But I can’t do it today.”

“Hey, hey. You're off your meds. You’re not stupid, you're just not in the right state right now,” Sam tells you, and you nod. “Eat up, and after dinner, I’ll help you with your math, and anything else you need help with.”

Your sobs become small whimpers until you stop crying altogether. You sniffle before grabbing the dinner your brothers got for your. Sam sits next to you and reads over your math homework and explains things. Just reading it didn’t process, but hearing it out loud, from your brother, that helped process what you were actually looking at. Not long after, you finish your homework.

“Thank you, Sammy,” you hug your brother, tightly, and he hugs you back.

“Of course, (Y/N/N),” he keeps you close.

✰✰✰✰✰

You toss and turn, unable to sleep. You’re really starting to miss your antidepressants. Huffing, you get up from the couch, throw on your slip on vans, and take one of the motel key cards. Maybe a walk with some therapeutic music will help you feel better. It really sucks how just after 24 hours, the withdrawal kicks in. You throw in your earbuds and start walking around the block.

Your skin feels all tingly and a burning sensation travels up your leg but you ignore your body screaming. Maybe the walk is what you need. You've been sitting all day, no wonder you can’t sleep.

You put your hands in your pocket as you sing along to the next song under your breath.

“Running low, on serotonin. Chemical imbalance got me twisting things. Stabilize with medicine, there’s no depth to these feelings. Dig deep, can’t hide from the corners of my mind. I’m terrified of what’s inside.”

You take in a deep breath, letting the cool air fill your lungs.

“Please don’t let me go crazy. Put me if a field with daisies, might not work but I’ll take a maybe.”

As the song ends, you reach the motel door, but before you can use your key card, the door opens. You look up to see Dean frantically walking out until he sees you.

“Y/N! Where were you?” He whisper-shouts.

“I just went on a walk,” you explain. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought it would tire me out.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks you, putting his hand on your back, bringing you inside.

“Honestly my legs hurt, my skin feels all tingly, and my head is starting to hurt.”

“Come on, you’re sleeping in my bed tonight. We can tell each other ghost stories until we fall asleep.”

You smile softly, remembering that’s what Dean would do to get you to bed growing up. You lay down underneath the cover and look at the ceiling.

“Instead of a ghost story, you can catch me up on what you and Sammy have figured out about the case,” you suggest.

And so Dean goes into detail about his day, and how he things by tomorrow night things should be done. Dean is thinking it’s a siren, since these victims were last seen talking about seeing a pretty woman.

“But what were the victims doing before they got killed?” you pose a question.

“One was smoking, another littered, the third being really disruptive,” your eldest brother answers you.

“Hm. Could be a dryad,” you tell Dean.

“A what?”

“A dryad, forest nymph, not a fairy or a goddess but sort of in between. Magical, gorgeous women. There are different nymphs, like water nymphs for example.”

“How do you kill a nymph?” Dean asks you.

“She’s just protecting the forest,” you pout.

“She’s killing people.”

“Talk to her.”

“How do you kill her?” Dean presses.

“You don’t,” you finally give in. “Not without killing nature. Do you want to burn down a tree, Dean?”

“… no.”

“Thought so.”

“Then what do I do?”

“Technically if you can find the one tree she’s attached to, you can kill her. But you shouldn’t.”

“I’ll try talking to her, for you.”

“Thanks Dean.”

✰✰✰✰✰

The next morning you and Dean are both awaken by Sam, who brings you breakfast burritos.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Mmm morning,” you yawn.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Sam asks.

“No, I just couldn’t sleep. So Dean caught me up on your case.”

Sam nods. After breakfast and some research, Sam and Dean get what they need to summon her.

“Since it’s not that dangerous, maybe I can come along,” you offer.

“Homework for the week all done?” Sam asks.

You nod.

“Legs feeling better?” Dean asks.

You nod again.

“You’re lying,” he squints his eyes at you.

“How would you know?”

“The second nod was slower and less confident.”

You groan.

“If you need one of us to stay with you, we can arrange that. If what you said is true, it will be easy enough for just one of us,” Sam suggests.

“I’m fine,” you lie. You’re not fine. Your body is aching, and the anxiety and depression are starting to really sink in.

“Sam, you’re better at talking things out than I am. I’ll drop you off, then head back here. You can call me if you need backup,” Dean says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Sam nods.

The two of them leave the room and you sigh, laying down. You can’t just stay sitting in this room the whole time. You’re at a bear themed motel close to the redwood forest. You need to experience the nature. You’re feeling trapped and panicked. Your breathing accelerates and you sit up. Pacing back and forth for the next forty minutes, you wait for Dean to get back.

The door opens and he walks in with a bag in hand.

“You’re five minutes late!” you yell at him.

“I just stopped to get some pie,” he sets down the bag. “I got you powdered donuts.”

You nod.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just feeling really trapped in here. Think we can go for a walk, or a drive at least?”

“A drive sounds good,” Dean nods. “But eat the donuts before. No powder on Baby.” He points a finger at you.

“Yes sir,” you grab your donuts and eat, while dean digs into his pie.

After dessert, you two get into Baby. You look out the window as he pulls out of the motel parking lot.

“You want to play some music?” Dean asks you.

“What happened to driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole?”

“This is a one time opportunity, Y/N. You don’t wanna miss it,” he nudges you.

You use a cassette adapter to connect your phone. You continue the playlist you were playing last night.

“You wanna listen to sad music?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

“I am sad. I don’t have my happy pills,” you mumble.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Honestly? I just want to cry. For absolutely no reason. Well there is a reason, withdrawals.”

Tears well up, and you take a shaky sigh.

“I’m sorry kid. I’ll make sure we get home as soon as possible.”

You just nod. The medication doesn’t stop the bad thoughts from happening, but they stop them from hurting as much. The problem was the medication isn’t as effective anymore either. You’ve built a tolerance, so right now the only difference is instead of mild depression, you want to kill yourself. You hate how you look, I mean both of your brothers are considered attractive and you feel like you look… dorky. School is stressful especially when you’re working towards a degree you don’t want.

And then you think of your brothers, who swooped in to take care of you. John wasn’t a terrible father to you, but you know he was too tough on Sam and Dean especially when it came to you. And then when John died, Dean became basically like your dad. He already raised Sam during his youth and then he had to take care of you. You couldn’t help but think that Sam and Dean would have it so much easier without you.

You try to hide your cries, looking out the window, letting tears stream down your face.

“Y/N/N? Talk to me,” Dean coaxes you. “What are you thinking about.”

Your silent cries become wails and sobs. And the crying triggers a headache and you feel nauseous and everything is just awful.

“Dean, why do you keep me around?” You take a deep breath trying to calm yourself but it doesn’t work. “I’m a burden. You don’t need to be taking care of me, especially when I’m an adult. I’m just dragging you down,” you cry out. “If I were dead, or never born, you’d be so much happier!”

“Woah woah!” Dean pulls over, then looks over at you. “I would not be happier without you. We don’t keep you around to take care of you. You’re grown, independent. We love you. And we’re happy you like being around us too. You’re our family.”

You look up at him, and you can almost see his heart breaks as he looks at your face. He wipes your tears and pulls you in for a hug.

“Are you thinking of hurting yourself? Are the suicidal thoughts back?”

You nod, crying into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh. You have nothing to be sorry about, baby, these thoughts aren’t your fault.”

You feel something going on in your throat, and you pull away quickly, opening the door, emptying the contents from your stomach. Dean quickly gets out from the drivers side and runs over to you.

“Ew,” you cry. “God that’s gross. I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders continue to shake as you resume crying. Your older brother crouches down (avoiding where you threw up) and pushes your hair back behind your ears.

“You don’t need to say sorry.”

“I might have gotten some on Baby,” you say, looking around to make sure.

“I can clean it. It’s just a car. You’re my baby sister.”

You sniffle as a smile creeps on your face.

“You do really love me. You’d never say she’s just a car unless it was that serious.”

“Of course it’s that serious. You’re having withdrawals. Now lets get something in that tummy,” he pokes your stomach. “Something light and comforting. You can wash up in the bathroom. And then we can get Sam and get you home.”

You nod and the drive resumes. You head back to the diner you had breakfast at yesterday. For lunch you get a grilled cheese and tomato soup. Dean gets a burger, obviously. As you wait for the food, you head into the bathroom and wash up.

After lunch, Sam gives Dean a call, saying it’s all over, and to also check up on you. You guys go on your way to pick up Sam. Dean hands the key over to Sam and Sam looks at Dean confused.

“Long drive from California to Kansas. Don’t want to leave her alone. After dinner we can switch off and you can sit in the back if you want,” Dean explains.

“It’s fine, it looks like you got control of the situation.” Sam looks over to you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling like absolute shit. But better than before.”

“When we get home, you take your meds, get your sleep, then we can do a movie night,” Sam suggests.

“That sounds great Sammy,” you smile. You kiss his cheek before going into the back seat with Dean.

“Thanks for being here for me Dean,” you say, kissing his cheek as well.

“Of course. I’ve been here since day one,” he ruffles your hair.

✰✰✰✰✰

The next 21 hours end up being hell. Dean said the wrong thing while trying to comfort you, sending you spiraling. That’s when Sam sat in the back while Dean sat up front beating himself up over it as he drives the rest of the way home. You apologized for being a difficult kid and Dean didn’t deny you were difficult, he just said easy is boring.

Now Dean pulls into the bunker garage, and you run to your room to get your medicine and take it. Dean follows you, wanting to apologize.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You aren’t a difficult kid. You were a great kid. Fun, and a great listener.”

“It’s okay Dean, I’m over it. Really.”

He nods.

“Can you stay with me until I sleep though? You and Sam? I want to hear about the dryad!”

“Sure thing. Sammy!”

Sam runs up to you guys.

“She wants you to tell us about the dryad.”

“Was she pretty?” you ask.

“Yes, she was very pretty.”

You lay in bed as your brothers sit on each side of you. Sam talks about how your plan to talk to her actually worked, and how the conversation went down. You smile as you listen. Your eyelids get heavy and soon you’re out.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Hospitals Deny Immunocompromised Patients’ ADA Requests For Masks - Published Feb 13, 2024

Before a recent hospital visit, Christine Link requested that her healthcare providers wear masks because of her autoimmune disease and medications that further suppress her immune system. A phlebotomist initially refused her request, leaving her feeling “shocked, scared.”

Escalating her concern to the Mass General Brigham’s patient advocacy office, she received this response: “While the request by a patient to an employee to wear a mask is not an ADA-related accommodation, it is a patient-centered and trauma informed best practice, and we encourage patients to make this request with the provider who is ordering the testing. The provider would determine if it would be in the patients’ best interest clinically to have staff wear a mask while interacting with the patient. Then they would need to communicate the decision to all staff providing services to the patient, such as phlebotomy staff.”

The patient advocate’s response left Link feeling, “foolish for thinking that Mass General Brigham would actually care enough to follow the law regarding reasonable accommodations. Instead I was gaslit about my needs.” She added, “Each time I have an in-person appointment, I have to go through being made to feel as less than any other human being as a result of my disabilities, bullied, and forced into unsafe care as a condition of getting the healthcare I need.”

Link is not alone. She is one of the many patients who reached out to tell me about how the refusal of this simple ADA accommodation is ruining their lives. One of the most worrisome bits of fallout is that many patients now fear they will get Covid-19 in the hospital or medical office. They are delaying getting medical care, including cancer screening and infusions of drugs, putting off vital appointments. This risks seriously damaging their health.

Link knew that the ADA includes being immunocompromised as a covered condition. She is also more determined than some other patients. She called the Department of Justice’s ADA line and filed a complaint with the Massachusetts Attorney General’s office in October, adapted from one made available by attorney Matthew Cortland on their Patreon page. She has not received any response from Massachusetts beyond acknowledging her submission. She has since written her state house representative, senator and governor, without getting any help.

When I reached out to MGB about its policy, I was told, “While in certain limited circumstances, wearing a mask or other Personal Protective Equipment may be an ADA accommodation, it is generally not.” The nurse advocate added, “This will be our last communication on this subject with you.”

One patient who asked for an ADA accommodation at another hospital says she woke up postoperatively to find herself unmasked. So were some of the nurses. She had tested negative for Covid-19 before her admission and became ill shortly after that. Hospital-acquired Covid-19 carries a higher mortality—33% in one study and 10% during the Omicron wave. This is due to the fact that people with more severe underlying diseases are in hospitals.

Link challenged the patient advocate about allowing “its patient-facing staff to put their personal political preferences (let’s not pretend it’s something other than political) before that of not only patient-centered care and their preferences but before the health and wellbeing of the patient.” She added, “I highly doubt that hand washing is left up to the personal preferences of patient-facing staff.” She also noted that MGB’s policy violates ADA laws, which explicitly include immune system diseases.

Other patients expressed anger at policies like MGB’s which state, “Patients can ask, but providers determine when and if masking in a particular situation is necessary.”

Some patients noted that they felt safer during the pandemic when everyone in healthcare settings was masking.

A recurrent theme was frustration that medical staff are ignoring the science—that repeat infections increase the risk of long Covid, that everyone masking is safer than one-way masking, and that N95 respirators are more protective than leaky surgical masks.

Another major complaint is being asked to wait long periods in unmasked waiting rooms for appointments, whether in the hospital or medical clinics. Patients are angry that they are refused permission to wait outside and be called in when it’s their turn. If restaurants can give people buzzers to call them in, one would think hospitals could master the technology.

Vulnerable patients are rebuffed when they want other people in a waiting area to mask—being told, “We can’t tell other people to mask,” yet if there were a case of measles, they could do so. Similarly, in an oncology or rheumatology office with many immunocompromised patients, the staff’s “right” to go unmasked trumps the patient right to a safe environment.

Patients fear retaliation and dismissal from a medical or dental practice, especially when no other options exist. Pantea Javidan, a Stanford sociologist and attorney stressed the difficulties patients experience “due to a power imbalance with physicians. They depend on doctors' expertise and can't easily question decisions such as mask-wearing.”

The Legal Perspective Julia Irzyk, attorney and co-author of Disabilities and the Law, notes that hospitals are “a public accommodation. They wouldn't have the right to say we're not going to mask in the surgery room.” She continued, “It's unacceptable to put patients at risk for a personal preference, which is all that is.”

“They are wrong on both the ethics and the law,” Irzyk concludes. “What they're doing is a violation of the ADA. What they're doing is a violation of the AMA code. And they are also destroying any trust that their high-risk patients have that they have their best health interests at heart.”

Irzyk’s father, attorney and bioethicist Mark Rothstein referenced a highly cited article by Erica Shenoy, chief of infection control for Mass General Brigham, that said that by obscuring facial expressions, masks negatively impact “human connection, trust and perception of empathy.” But, Rothstein says, the opposite is true. “When a healthcare provider refuses to wear a mask at the request of an at-risk patient, nothing can destroy trust more than that.” Rothstein adds, “One of the most important sections of the AMA code of ethics is section 10.015, which says the relationship between patient and physician is based on trust and gives rise to physicians’ obligations to place patient welfare above obligations to other groups.”

Doron Dorfman, L.L.B., J.S.D, a professor at Seton Hall Law School, described the hospital’s stance as “a little bit outrageous.” He explained, “But if the hospital's claim is that you cannot force a third person to do something to accommodate a person with a disability, that's absolutely false as well. So many courts accepted the idea of a no smoking policy that requires other people in the workplace not to smoke as an accommodation. It's very common to have people with food allergy that have an accommodation for other people not to bring allergic foods into the workplace or into school.” Similarly, regarding staff rights preempting that of the patient, Dorfman added, “There is not a right to refuse someone a disability accommodation.”

Wendy Parmet is a professor and expert on disability and public health law. She noted that hospitals all have translators now. “There should be some kind of analogous process” for patients who are requesting masking accommodations, she said, adding that a big problem with MGB is “that they don't have the processes in place” to prevent this kind of problem. Once they have the procedures outlined, then all staff should be educated. “What we want is a training program and some procedures in place because your phlebotomist should not be left to think that they can make this decision on their own.”

Boston To The San Francisco Bay The problem of getting healthcare providers to mask in response to their patients’ request is by no means limited to Boston. This type of refusal of disabled patients’ requests is also notably coming from University of California San Francisco, another leader in influencing policy.

Alice Wong is the founder and director of the Disability Visibility Project. She has multiple medical issues, including having a tracheostomy and a breathing tube in her neck. Wong recently required hospitalization in UCSF’s Moffitt/Long Hospital. She wrote a compelling essay in Teen Vogue, “Covid Isn’t Going Anywhere. Masking Up Could Save My Life.” After her January experiences in the emergency room and ICU, she wrote about her nightmarish experiences along with extensive recommendations for improving patient safety.

Senior and Disability Action, a community organizing group fighting for the rights of seniors and people with disabilities, has recently met with UCSF leadership to provide safe access to healthcare, especially for seniors and people with disabilities, who are being disproportionately affected by Covid-19. SDA’s Allegra Heath-Stout, director of emergent campaigns, said they met with UCSF leaders in October and January with a list of requests. This included that masking by health care workers continue after April, when the city’s health order requiring masking ends. UCSF,which did not respond to a request for comment on specific issues, also did not respond favorably to SDA’s requested Covid-19 safety-related accommodations, such as staff wearing an N-95 for particularly vulnerable patients or allowing immunosuppressed post-operative patients to recover in a separate room without unmasked patients, according to sources.

SDA member Beth Kenny says they encounter similar problems at Kaiser Permanente. Kenny said their physician told them not to be inside with unmasked people, yet Kaiser does not allow patients to wait outside until being called rather than in crowded waiting rooms. Kaiser also denied Kenny’s request to have labs drawn at home by a visiting nurse, so they have risked their health by skipping monthly labs.

“We support any individual who wishes to voluntarily wear a mask and to reasonably request their health care provider also wear a mask,” Kaiser said in an email.

Another SDA member observed that what UCSF does “seems to really set the tone for the Bay Area and the rest of the country in terms of what precautions are taken.”

Modest Requests What Christine and the other patients I’ve spoken with want seems eminently reasonable. MGB, UCSF, and others could start with a user-friendly system in place for patients to make requests. The ADA request should be readily visible to the staff—a flag on the patient’s electronic medical record or, in the old days, a colored tape on the patient’s chart.

As Link said, “I never thought that Harvard's teaching hospital would care so little for lives like mine.” She surmises, “It's the same kind of hostility and apathy that people with disabilities have long experienced that tells us that we are burdens, that we should pipe down and not concern ourselves with equity because our lives are not as valuable as nondisabled people.”

Neither MGB, UCSF, nor Kaiser responded to specific, detailed questions as of the time of posting.

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him. 

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense. 

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again. 

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true. 

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks. 

Foggy dislocated his shoulder. 

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act. 

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers. 

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital. 

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him. 

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips. 

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him. 

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on. 

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought. 

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence. 

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say. 

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why? 

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.  

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask. 

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet. 

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says. 

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind. 

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real. 

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says. 

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further. 

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go. 

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort. 

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about. 

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot. 

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself. 

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise. 

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?” 

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.  

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.” 

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing. 

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier. 

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor. 

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin. 

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry. 

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help. 

“It’s fine,” he assures you. 

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.” 

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier. 

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes. 

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do. 

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie. 

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for. 

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers. 

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.” 

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye. 

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says. 

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running. 

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

[corrodedseraphine]

you are not alone | one shot

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

story based on a request by a lovely anon: Steve works as a nurse and lives in a two bedroom apartment. He decided to put out an ad for a roommate and the reader finds it. She’s in desperate need of a place to stay after her father dies. It was just the two of them and she has to use almost all the money she makes working to pay off remaining medical bills.

The reader and Steve have a falling out within the first month of her living there but he keeps her around because she pays her part of the rent and keeps to herself. The two of them are usually throwing digs at one another.

Steve doesn’t realize the reader is going through so much financial stress and the loss of her father. She works two jobs (diner and bar) and is gone a lot. However, Steve starts to notice she hardly eats and sleeps and it’s taking a toll on her health.

One night when Steve gets home from his shift at the hospital he finds the reader fell asleep sitting at the bar in the kitchen. He goes up and puts his hand on her back to wake her and she gets startled. Steve steadies her and tries to calm her down. She’s still disoriented and dizzy. Steve carries her to the sofa and tries to check her vitals but she pushes him away. He lectures her for not eating and makes her eat something before letting her go to bed.

A few weeks later the reader gets sick and is really weak, so Steve takes care of her even though she tells him to leave her alone. In her vulnerable state she finally tells Steve what’s been going on.

An enemies to friends type of story with a soft and caring Steve once he realizes she needs help. angst, slight enemies to lovers, and they were roommates trope, fluff in the end, modern!AU

7 830 words

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

TW: mentions of: death, family member loss

Dear anon, thank you for your request and I really hope you won't be disappointed!

(I know you requested enemies to friends but I made it lovers instead, because the hopeless romantic inside me is desperate, I'm sorry)

steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist

"Aaand here's for another failed date." Eddie smirked and tilted the shot into his mouth, immediately followed by Robin, Steve and Chrissy.

"I'm so damn tired of this, man." Steve said and slumped helplessly on a soft chair in the corner of the living room. "Everything looks the same, movie, dinner, after dinner we go to my place, have sex and the magic is gone, she sneaks out in the middle of the night and the next day she doesn't answer any messages."

"Maybe you're too desperate?" Robin asked, he sent her a questioning look. "Think about it, it is said that true love comes suddenly and unexpectedly, while you, on the contrary, catch on to anything that moves."

"Robin!" Chrissy jabbed her in the arm.

"What!"

"Be nice!" the blonde rolled her eyes. "Maybe Steve has already met someone who will turn out to be more than a hook-up, and he doesn't know it? Look at us, all through high school we didn't exchange a word with each other, and now I can't imagine a day without your voice." She kissed her girlfriend on the forehead.

"You guys are disgusting." Steve scoffed.

"And you're jealous." replied Robin pulling Chrissy to her and kissing her deeply.

"Ah, ladies! Please spare poor Harrington tonight!" laughed Eddie, filling the glasses anew.

"Thank you, Eddie!" exclaimed the brunette immediately reaching for one. "Can we change the subject?"

"How's your roommate? Doesn't she mind your guests?" asked the metalhead.

"Nope." He waved his free hand and after a moment he brought up a shot. "She's practically not at home at all, and when she comes back it's at night and she sleeps, but when we see each other, exceptionally, she annoys me to the core."

"Why?"

"She constantly walks around fuming, looking at me as if I've committed a crime and getting any word out of her verges on the most miraculous."

"Maybe you made a bad first impression?"

"Then why didn't she refuse when I said she could move in?"

"I don't know, you said she looked desperate."

"It's like I'm living with a ghost who wakes up once every few days and slithers around the apartment in misery."

"Why does it bother you so much that she's quiet?" asked Chrissy suddenly.

"Yeah, blondie is right, I think it's better to have a quiet roommate than to have her be loud, insufferable and pick on everything. Especially the fact that you bring a different girl into your apartment every now and then." Eddie added.

"Oh my God, he's so annoyed because he wants her to talk to him, he wants more than just conversation!" Robin jumped up on the couch as if she had made the discovery of the year. "He likes her!"

"Oh fuck you! All of you!" the other three didn't miss the fact that he didn't deny Robin's theory, but decided to leave the subject for now.

The first month in the new apartment passed extremely quickly. Actually, you didn't quite feel the effects of moving out. Everything seemed to be behind a fog, and the days flew through your fingers turning into nights, and so on and so forth. The only thing that seemed painfully real was the longing and pain. These were the only things that reminded you that you were alive.

As you danced with a tray between tables at a nearby diner from early morning, and later in the evening served drinks to enamored couples at the bar, you didn't have much time to mourn. But that didn't change the fact that the void left in your life was heavy. As heavy as your eyelids, which began to close at the mere sight of your bed. Usually you don't even remember the moment you fall asleep, but today it wasn't so easy.

When you saw that the beginning nurse was looking for a roommate you thought you had managed to find someone calm and quiet. Unfortunately, reality turned out to be different. The frequent sounds of pleasure coming from his bedroom were not usually a problem for you, you quickly learned to simply ignore them or drown them out with music or a podcast. Nor were you bothered by the frequent visits of his friends, who brought chaos and disorder every time, not caring about the silence. Most of the time you weren't in the apartment at all because you were at work, but today they decided to have a movie night, which started with an argument about the choice of movie. Knowing that you wouldn't fall asleep with such entertainment, you exasperatedly got out of bed pulling on your sweatpants.

When you left the room everyone went silent and looked at you. You could see from their faces that they were just waiting for you to start shouting at them, but even though you really wanted to do it at that moment, you didn't have the strength. Exhausted after several hours of hard work as always, you didn't have the strength to do anything, so you passed them without a word, ignoring their attempts to say hello and offers to join them, and left the apartment. With a quick step, you went to the pharmacy located near your apartment, stocked up on a new pack of sleeping pills and went back to your place.

"Hey, y/n!" called out one of the younger boys, from what you associated was probably named Dustin. "Can you help us choose? Iron Man or the Amazing Spider-Man?"

You just rolled your eyes and, leaving him without an answer, went back to your room slamming the door behind you. Taking your pills you started getting ready for sleep again.

Lying in the darkness you listened to the conversation of Steve and his friends.

"See? She can't even say one word, I honestly can barely remember what her voice sounds like!" he said irritated.

"Come on, she looked tired." replied a female voice.

"Tired or not, she could at least answer! Out of politeness!"

"Let's just start the movie."

Then the voices quieted, and your thoughts grew louder. You thought about yourself from a few months ago.

The former you would have answered Dustin's question without hesitation and gladly accepted the invitation to join.

The former you would have been able to chat for hours with Steve from the very beginning and not push away every possible interaction on his part.

You knew it irritated him, he couldn't hide it. Every attempt to have any kind of conversation with you ended in failure, every attempt to get to know you better - spurned. You were not surprised by it. You were sure that the former you and your new roommate would get along very well. It's even possible that the former you would have noticed how his honey-colored eyes curiously followed you when you left the room, maybe she would have noticed the charming smile he sent you during the first days of your living together, and would have appreciated his willingness and interest in you. It is likely that the former you would also have taken an interest in Steve's person, in many ways. However, the former you no longer existed.

The present you was overtired and there was not a shred of energy in her.

The present you had far bigger worries than the handsome boy sitting behind the wall, whose sweet smiles turned into grimaces of annoyance and disgust.

Holding back the tears that rushed to your eyes, you looked at your phone. Six hours of sleep. You snuggled your face into your pillow hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible thanks to the pills. Lately, every minute of sleep was at a premium for you.

Days passed and the tension between you and Steve grew. He was irritated by the lack of willingness to communicate on your part, and you were irritated by the fact that he was irritated. Without actually saying too many words to each other, sometimes one unpleasant glance was enough for one or both of you to feel a strange surge of negative emotions. The climax turned out to be Saturday, when you were getting ready for your evening shift at the bar.

You were walking through the living room holding a glass of Coke in your hand when you tripped over one of the nursing textbooks scattered on the floor. A moment later, all that was heard was the sound of glass on the floor and a rather hard fall.

"What the fuck Steve?!" you exclaimed, looking down at your soaked clothes.

"What happened?" he ran out of the bathroom.

"I tripped over your stupid book! Is it so hard to clean up after yourself?"

"I'm studying, I just went to the bathroom for a moment!"

"And leaving your books on the floor was a great idea!" you said standing up.

"If you had watched where you were going nothing would have happened!" he tried to defend himself.

"If you had kept things in order then nothing would have happened!"

"How could I have known that just now you would mercifully leave the room?! I'm used to you not leaving it for a second!"

"Go to Hell Harrington!" you yelled.

"Feels like I am already in it!" he yelled back, grabbed his books and went to his room.

Angry, you changed your clothes and picked up the glass, then quickly mopped the floor after the spilled drink.

Despite the fact that you had already left the apartment and left him alone in it, Steve felt bad about this whole situation. He didn't know quite whether he was angry, disappointed or tired. Sitting over textbooks for several hours never worked well for him, and arguing with you made him even more upset.

Sighing deeply, he grabbed his phone, where a Tinder notification popped up on the screen. The beautiful long-haired blonde on the screen was smiling broadly at him, he didn't even remember when he swiped her to the right. Each successive match on the app was more and more meaningless to him, despite the fact that he could spend hours there looking for "the one". Eventually everything started to blend together, he could no longer remember what he was saying to whom and what he wasn't, remembering names wasn't his advantage either. He looked at the girl's profile for a while longer, but he decided that he definitely didn't feel like going on a date tonight. Instead he went to the kitchen and took out a full bottle of rum from the refrigerator. Putting it by his face, he took a picture and sent it to the group chat.

Steve the Stupidest: wanna join?

Eddie the Dumbest: my place in 20 minutes?

Chrissy the Sweetest: count us in!

Robin the Smartest: do we need to bring something?

Eddie the Dumbest: your asses to my house lol

Eddie the Dumbest: and snacks

Eddie the Dumbest: I won't let you in without snacks

"You told her that living with her is like living in hell?" Chrissy asked shocked.

"I didn't say it directly! I just said it felt that way!" Steve tried to defend himself. The bottle of rum was emptied in no time and, as standard, Steve brought the tracks back to you.

"Which is exactly the same as if you literally said 'Life with you is like hell." Robin rolled her eyes and threw popcorn at him.

"The real question is do you really feel that way?" asked Eddie.

"No." he answered without thinking. "But it's not heaven either! I don't know what it is, no one gets on my nerves like she does, but I on the other hand..." he didn't finish the sentence.

"I'm still of the opinion that you like her but for some strange reason you're acting like an eight-year-old and instead of admitting it, you're telling yourself that all you feel is annoyance." Robin said.

"I think you two would make an adorable couple." interjected Chrissy.

"Until she would kill me with a single stare." If the relationship between you two was better and more friendly, maybe he wouldn't even try to deny Robin's words.

"You're not in Heaven or Hell, so you could say you're roommates from Purgatory," laughed Eddie. "The only question is which way you'll go, up or down?"

"I have a strange feeling it's going dooown."

Even if the disagreement between you was still present, Steve had no plans to kick you out of the apartment. You always paid everything on time, did not interfere in his life, and, apart from occasional exchanges of words, did not cause any major problems. Over time, however, the atmosphere of irritation began to fade and was replaced by an acceptance of the fact that there would not even be a friendship between you. Not wanting to get in each other's way, you communicated with one another only on necessary matters.

That didn't change the fact that Steve was still observing you, and what he saw was beginning to worry him. Your pale face, blackened eyes and hunched posture betrayed your physical exhaustion. He also noticed that you weren't preparing any meals for yourself at all. In fact, he probably hadn't seen you cook anything once yet since you moved in. Sometimes when he prepared food for himself he would specifically make more to see if you would take what was left, but you never did a single time.

The autumn weather was not one of the best, it was definitely the type of weather during which the only thing to do was to wrap up in a warm blanket, turn on a favorite TV series and drink a big mug of hot chocolate. That was the plan that popped into Steve's head when he walked into the apartment after a long and tiring shift at the hospital.

Putting down his rain-wet umbrella in the hallway, he pulled off his jacket and hung it on a hanger. To his surprise, your jacket was also hanging there. This surprised him because you were always still at work at this hour. Walking deeper into the apartment he saw you sitting at the kitchen counter, your hands and head were resting on its surface. Without saying hello, he entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, thinking only about the chicken salad he had made yesterday. When out of the corner of his eye he didn't notice any movement on your part he turned to look at you. Only from this perspective could he see that you were asleep. In your numb hand thete was a mug of tea.

"Y/n?" he asked quietly. You didn't respond. He slowly took the mug out of your hand. The tea in it was already cold. How long had you been sitting there like this? Concerned, he placed his hand on your back and repeated your name several more times.

Awakened, you jumped up on the bar stool almost falling off it, fortunately your roommate reacted quickly enough to prevent this and hold you up.

"Hey, it's just me, just Steve." he said, and furrowed his brow. His voice was calm and a little quieter than usual. "Are you all right? Are you feeling sick?" he asked, and instinctively began to bring his hand closer to your forehead to check for signs of fever, but you, seeing this, immediately pulled away and jumped off the stool. This, unfortunately, was not the best idea, as you were still disoriented by your sudden awakening, and prolonged fatigue and irregular, not very hearty meals definitely weakened your body causing dizziness, which you also felt now and lost your balance.

"Woah!" the brunette once again grabbed your shoulders protecting you from falling. "Come on, sit down on the couch." this time without objection you moved towards the couch which stood nearby, due to the fact that your living room was connected to the kitchen. Steve followed you step by step supporting you. He kept one hand on your back and the other on your arm. "Are you sick? dizzy?" he began to ask when you sat down.

"I'm fine, Steve, just tired." you said, hoping he would give you a break. Meanwhile, a gurgling sound came from your stomach.

"And probably hungry." he raised one eyebrow.

"Just want to go to sleep." you scoffed.

"I have some chicken salad left over, I won't be able to eat it all myself, and it would be a shame to throw it away, maybe you'd like some?" he offered, carefully watching your reaction. He was increasingly convinced that during the day you either eat nothing, or so little that your body can barely manage to provide you with any energy to function. However, given your distant relationship, he couldn't just bombard you with questions and force you to eat like he would have done with Robin or Dustin. He had to do it slowly and calmly.

"Yeah, okay." you said quietly as the gurgling of your stomach resounded a second time.

He immediately went back to the fridge and quickly put the food on plates hoping you wouldn't notice that you got a larger portion. Handing you a plate, he sat down next to you and turned on the TV, the sound of which filled the silence between you.

"That was really good, thank you." you said quietly.

"No problem, I'm glad I didn't have to throw it away." he smiled slightly. "Feeling better?" he asked.

In response, you only nodded your head. You got up from the couch and picked up the plates to wash them, his eyes were following your movements to the kitchen.

Watching you, he thought about the fact that this was your first meal together since you moved in. Satisfied with the result that it didn't end in an argument or that you didn't reject his offer, he felt a little more confident. This small success pushed him forward, so when you started washing the dishes, he decided to take a chance.

"What did you eat at work today?" the question knocked you out a bit.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious." He shrugged his shoulders, but you didn't see it because you were standing with your back turned.

"A sandwich." you replied not thinking much. You felt strange with the fact that this was your first conversation not about bills or household chores. The first one you had actually allowed him to have.

"Only?"

"I didn't have time at work to eat."

"One sandwich all day? Are you crazy? You need to eat more!" And so much for calmness and slowness. He knew he shouldn't get carried away and didn't want it to sound like an attack, but unfortunately it was too late. Why did he care this much about you awnyway? All the walls that you lowered down for that brief moment rose again.

"I'm fine." you said dryly clenching your teeth.

"I found you sleeping on the kitchen counter, it's obvious that you're overtired and hardly eat anything at all, do you even take care of yourself in any way?"

"It's none of your business." Suddenly all the fatigue is gone from you, replaced, by anger, instead. Who did he think he was to lecture you?

"You are irresponsible." he concluded and got up from the couch.

"Just shut up, Steve, you're not my father to lecture me." You replied in an overtired voice.

"Then maybe you should call him and make him realize that his daughter can't take care of herself!" He was already heading towards his room, but suddenly, he was stopped by the clatter of dishes. He noticed how your shoulders were moving faster and faster, picking up the pace of your breathing. You turned off the water and, without a word, walked away from the sink, standing straight in front of him. Your eyes were big and full of tears, looking at him with a condemning gaze.

"You have no right to say that." You said through your teeth and, without waiting for an answer, disappeared into your room, leaving him alone in a big shock.

That night, instead of his favorite TV series, all he could focus on were the quiet sobs coming from behind the wall and the guilt they caused. He had no idea which of his actions made you cry, and it didn't really matter which. Despite the fact that, in his opinion, he didn't say anything awful in your direction, he felt awful.

Steve the Stupidest: I made her cry

Chrissy the Sweetest: what???? what happened?

Steve the Stupidest: I don't know, we were eating salad together, I asked her what she had eaten at work, she said that only a sandwich, so I got a little carried away and told her that she can't take care of herself, and now I can hear her crying

Robin the Smartest: oh damn

Steve the Stupidest: should I go to her?

Eddie the Dumbest: I don't think she wants to see you now, dude

Robin the Smartest: Eddie is right, let her calm down

Robin the Smartest: and tell everything that happened with details

Autumn brings with itself many changes, one of which may be unexpected illness. The first thing you felt this morning was an unpleasant itching in your throat, the second was a terrible cold, which made you decide to dress a little warmer for work today. Unfortunately, you felt worse and worse by the minute, but adult life can be brutal and you couldn't just not go to work today.

Around noon Steve came home from the hospital, but before he could open the door to the apartment his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Come to Benny's, quick." Robin said in a serious voice.

When he arrived in front of the diner, Chrissy was waiting for him with a worried expression on her face.

"What happened?" he asked running up to the girl.

"y/n fainted, Robin and I came in for lunch and when she was carrying our order she just fainted, she said there was no one to help her so Robin said we'll call you-" the words left her mouth at the speed of light.

"Hey, take it easy." he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Where is she?"

"In the back room with Robin and Benny."

With a quick step he walked inside and moments later he was already at your side watching you with a worried face. You looked even worse than last time, which caused him alarmed. Sitting leaning against the white wall, you were almost as pale as it was.

"Let's get you home, okay?" he asked crouching down in front of you.

"I don't have a home." you muttered while burying your face in your hands. "I can't leave, my shift hasn't ended."

"It has ended and the next one won't start until you feel better." said Benny in a harsh tone.

"Benny please." you whined.

"No discussion, get her out of here Steve."

Reluctantly, you walked back to his BMW feeling the gaze of the other three on you all the time, but now you didn't even have the strength to be annoyed with them. Despite the fact that your shift at the diner ended a few hours sooner, you still had to go to your evening shift at the bar, so you wanted to be in your room as soon as possible so you could take a nap before that.

You didn't even remember when you fell asleep, you were pulled out of the darkness by the sound of your alarm clock, which announced that it was time to start getting ready for your shift at the bar. The worst part of it all was that you didn't feel any better.

Slowly and lifelessly you walked out of the room, Steve was standing in the kitchen over a big pot of soup. When he heard the sound of the door opening he turned toward you and smiled slightly.

"I made the soup, the best for a cold, I got the recipe from Robin's grandmother, I'm sure you'll like it, it just needs to boil for a while," he said.

"I'm not hungry." you lied, at the very smell you were drooling but you didn't have time to eat anymore.

"Come on, at least try."

"I don't have time Steve, I have to get ready and go to work." you sighed.

"You're kidding right?" He stood motionless and looked at you in disbelief, and you looked at him with a questioning expression. "A few hours ago you blacked out and now you want to go to work, are you crazy?"

"Don't dramatize."

"Dramatize? Listen to yourself, what's wrong with you?"

"Everything!" you snapped. "Not everyone has a wonderful life full of friends and and rich parents who transfer dollars to your account every month! Do you think life makes me happy? Some people have to work two shifts to make their own living! Some people have other expenses besides just living!" your outburst of anger made you feel increasingly weak, but your voice was still loud. Loud enough for every word to reach him without interference. "You work in a hospital, so you know how much medical bills cost! So I'm sorry Steve, but I won't eat your soup, I have to go to work so I can afford to pay your rent next month!"

Shaken up, you walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. Why does it all have to be so difficult? Clenching your eyes tightly, a loud sob came from your mouth. Much louder than you wanted. Helplessly you slumped to the floor and just let the tears flow. You were sick, tired, sad, angry and lost, everything was against you.

After a while, the bathroom door opened and Steve appeared in it with a broken look on his face.

"I'm sorry." He said, kneeling beside you.

"It's not your fault." you said while wiping away tears. "Everything is just too much."

"I didn't know anything about the hospital bills, are you ill? do you need funding for treatment?" honey eyes studied your face carefully, the warmth that emanated from him made you want to cling to him.

"They are not mine."

"Are you paying for someone?" he asked puzzled.

"My dad was very sick-" you said quietly.

"Was?"

Nothing was your answer. The pain in your eyes spoke for itself.

"Jesus, y/n…" before he could think what he was doing his arms had already begun to embrace you, and you let him. You felt as if he was keeping you from falling apart. After a while, your breathing slowed down, and your body was no longer shaken by waves of crying. "I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't know anything." he muttered into your hair.

"I really have to go to work, Steve." you replied weakly, already a bit calmer.

"You can't go there like this, you're all burned up."

"If I don't go I won't be able to pay you on time." You sighed and extricated yourself from his grasp.

"You'll pay me later, it won't be a problem." he replied without thinking. "Stay, please." he said seeing your uncertain reaction. "I swear that if you pay later, nothing will happen. It won't be a problem."

"Thank you." you replied. "I'll go call that I won't be there."

"And I'll get us some soup." he beamed. His smile was contagious as it also appeared on your face despite your nasty mood. When you returned to the living room there were two large bowls filled to the brim on the coffee table.

"Fancy a movie?" he asked.

"Yeah, okay." you replied surprised, you weren't expecting this proposal. Although he was probably even more surprised and didn't expect you to agree. "What are we going to watch?"

"I don't know, what do you like?"

"And you?" you asked, not wanting to impose something of your own.

"Star Wars?"

"I've never watched, it can be."

"Wait, what? Seriously, it's a classic!"

"Such a film connoisseur of you?" you laughed.

"You still haven't answered my question about what you like."

"Disney is definitely my definition of comfort movies."

"for example?"

"Beauty and the Beast, Princess and the Frog, Tangled, Coco…"

"I haven't watched any of them." he shrugged his shoulders.

"And who's talking about not knowing the classics?!" you pretended to be disgusted.

"I propose a compromise, one part of Star Wars for one Disney movie, I think we both have a lot of catching up to do."

"Deal."

Steve Harrington was a ray of sunshine. From the moment you decided to stop fencing yourself off with thick curtains your life became much warmer and brighter. Your life together changed completely, even though you still had to work two shifts and felt physically tired, your mental state was definitely relieved. When your roommate got to know your situation and understood what you were struggling with, his attitude also changed. This time, all the quiet days and sad looks were not perceived as an attack. Instead, whenever you returned tired after work there was a warm meal waiting for you and an even warmer smile that caused a strange tingling in your stomach.

The more you got to know each other, the more you couldn't hold back the feeling of attraction to him. He was a person from whom a safe warmth radiated, a warmth that not only warmed your cold hands when they accidentally touched his, but also your soul. A soul that had long been a cold and empty hollow. He lit the first tiny sparks in it that made life and emotions awaken in you anew.

By opening up to his presence in your life, you found the courage to grieve. He was the perfect friend. Funny, caring and trustworthy. Day by day you got to know each other better and better, telling him about what happened with your dad you allowed in the feelings that you had kept locked up for an awfully long time.

One day was especially difficult when your dad's birthday arrived. All day the weight of your heart was unbearable, people at work gave you an extremely hard time, so as soon as you closed the apartment door behind you, you burst into tears. Some time ago you would have held it in until you disappeared into your room, but you couldn't help how Steve made the house become home. A home where you didn't have to be afraid to show your feelings.

Hearing you groggy in the hallway he immediately came out to greet you, wanting to show off the new dish he had managed to prepare today. Unfortunately, seeing your condition, all his enthusiasm disappeared.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. His eyes scanned your entire body in search of any apparent reason for crying, but he immediately understood that what was hurting you was not a physical issue at all. Not having the strength to respond you moved quickly in front of him and he simply followed you. You sat down on the bed clenching your face in your hands, after a while the mattress bent under his weight.

"Hey, it's okay." he whispered placing a hand on your shoulder. "Come." He pulled you gently back.

Leaning against the headrest of the bed, he pulled you close, and you fell right into his arms. You cuddled your face into the soft sweater sobbing like a small child. Large hands gently traced paths of comfort on your back and arms. He stroked you as if you were a small, wounded and helpless animal, and he wanted at all costs not to hurt you even more. Your pain was breaking his heart, but he knew the feeling when crying is the only thing that can bring relief, so he didn't interrupt you.

Over the past time, he got to know you much better than he ever would have expected. He saw in you something more than a silent energy filled with fatigue and perpetual irritation. He saw in you a beautiful but broken soul. He saw a heart of gold that was shattered to pieces. He saw how funny you were and what a great conversation companion you could be. He was surprised by your sensitivity, which you initially hid under a mask of oppressiveness. When you broke down the armored wall you surrounded yourself with at the beginning of your acquaintance, Steve met a completely different person, someone in whom he was beginning to see more than just a roommate. With each step you continued to become friends, but he couldn't ignore the thought that he wanted something more.

From people who avoided each other like fire you became a team. You did everything together as much as possible when you both happened to find some free time. Meals together, cleaning together and going shopping together. Movie marathons and evenings spent talking all added up to the beauty of domestication. But-

What if you could lay cuddled up together while watching movies?

What if he could kiss every tear from your cheeks that fall when you get emotional at a Disney movie?

What if you could come up from behind and snuggled into his back while he was preparing dinner for you?

What if while shopping he could hold a shopping bag in one hand and your hand in the other one?

What if seeking comfort in his arms after a hard day at work was the first thing you would do when you got home?

All the what ifs in his head had been swirling around for a long time and were incredibly overwhelming, especially when you were close, yet he couldn't muster the courage to do more.

For the moment, you had more serious things on your mind, and he didn't know how to help you, despite his great desire to do so. Lost in his thoughts and focused to give you as much comfort as possible, he didn't notice when you calmed down. Your breathing was now even and your eyes closed. Thinking you had fallen asleep he settled down a bit and rested his cheek against the top of your head. With the hand that he used to embrace your back he pressed you even tighter against him, and with the other he grabbed the hand that lay on his chest.

"Today is his birthday." you said weakly.

Not expecting you to be awake for a moment panic swept through him, he quickly drew in air and tensed all over waiting for your reaction. Seeing that you still remained motionless, he relaxed, and you continued speaking. "Every year we used to spend this whole day with his best friend and his family. They invited me to join them today to continue the tradition, but I can't- It hurts too much."

"You don't have to go there if you don't feel ready, it's understandable to feel that way." he replied.

"What if I'm never ready? What if it will always hurt like this?"

"Even if time doesn't heal the wounds, you will learn to live with them. And even though moments like now will happen from time to time, you won't be alone with them. You are not alone."

His words went straight to your heart, they were something you needed at that moment.

"Thank you." You said hugging him even tighter.

"Always here for you." he muttered.

The silence that surrounded you and the last rays of the setting sun coming through the window were soothing. Your hearts began to beat out the same calm and steady rhythm that you could feel under your hand. Focusing on the gentle beats, a peace began to envelop you that you hadn't felt since your dad became ill. As the orange glow of the ending day slowly turned into blanketing darkness neither of you wanted to move so as not to scare away such a beautiful and peaceful moment. Desperately clinging to the closeness that existed between you both fell asleep, not worrying about the awkwardness that would come with the morning.

Unfortunately, the night passed all too quickly. When you woke up you were lying in bed alone. Trying to run away from the feeling of disappointment about this, you reluctantly pushed the quilt aside and focused on preparing for work. Entering the living room, you were greeted by a platter of warm scrambled eggs and a mug of coffee.

"I'm going on the night shift tonight, so I thought maybe we could at least have breakfast together." he said sitting down at the table.

"Sounds like a great plan." You replied with a smile. Over the course of the meal you lost yourself in pleasant conversation about everyday life. Steve also talked about his plans for the weekend, where he wanted to take Dustin to a concert by his favorite band.

"And uh- I have something for you." he said when you finished eating. He walked over to his backpack and took out some documents from it, which he slipped to you. "You don't have to do anything with this, but I thought you might want to think about it. I talked to some people at the hospital and they said your situation qualifies for a subsidy on your dad's medical bills." You looked at him with your eyes wide open, he couldn't make out much emotion from your expression, which made him start to get nervous, fearing that you were about to explode with anger. "I know, I'm sorry I talked to strangers about you, you have the right to be angry with me, but I really just wanted to help, this subsidy will cover most of the bills, of course if you need help to figure it all out, I can help you with everything, but I understand if you don't want-"

His rant was interrupted by your arms tightening around his stomach. When the moment of surprise passed he reciprocated the hug.

"Thank you." you said.

"You are welcome." He beamed.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow after we're both off work?""

"Sure." The smile didn't leave his face.

"I have to go now, thank you for breakfast. Have a good day, Steve."

"You too, y/n."

For him, it was the win of the day.

When taking on the job as a nurse, Steve was aware that some moments would be extremely hard in the job. However, he did not expect them to come so quickly and suddenly. Nor did he expect that the first such moment would be so drastic.

Road accidents were the order of the day, so when he got the call to assist in the operation of one of the injured he approached it with composure as always. What he didn't expect, however, was to find a teenage girl lying on the table in critical condition. Despite the best efforts of the entire rescue team, the injuries sustained in the accident were too extensive and she died during the operation. On his way out of the room, all he could hear was the shrill cry of despair of a mother who would never hug her own daughter again. That sound refused to leave his head until the end of his shift.

After returning home, exhausted by today's experiences, he fell asleep on the couch. Unfortunately, even in sleep his psyche was not merciful. His brain replayed nightmares over and over again, which, instead of resting, tormented him even more.

When you returned to the apartment the first thing you noticed was Steve sleeping on the couch. Today, for the first time in a very long time, he was not waiting for you with a meal ready. Determining that he was probably too tired, you quietly walked over to the couch and covered him with a blanket. Your attention did not miss the furrowed brow and the anxious expression on his face. Hesitating for a moment, you decided not to intervene and went to the kitchen, stating that today it was your turn to cook something. In the middle of cutting vegetables, Steve suddenly jumped on the couch breathing heavily.

"Hey, what's going on?" you quickly walked over to him and crouched down across from him. He was in shock, his eyes in a panic trying to recognize the environment he was in, and his breathing was speeding up instead of slowing down. "Steve, hey." you tried to get his attention.

"My phone. Where's my phone?" he sprang to his feet and began a frantic search for the device. He found it in his jacket pocket and immediately started dialing a number. "Dustin? Dustin are you okay?" he asked after a few beeps.

"Yes, why?" replied the confused boy.

"I just- I'm sorry. Glad you are okay."

"What the hell Steve?"

"I have to go, bye." He hung up and clasped his hand around the phone while leaning his head against the wall.

"Steve?" approached him slowly. "What's going on?"

"It's just a hard day at work…" He sighed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He nodded and together you went to sit on the couch. There he told you about the situation. The longer he spoke, the more his voice broke down and words struggled to pass through his throat.

"When I was sleeping, I had-I had a nightmare. Instead of this girl, there was Dustin. I had to make sure he was okay-" it was his breaking point.

The sight was painful. It was hard to look at a person who can bring so much warmth, light and joy into someone's life in a state of sadness. Steve was like sunshine to you, sunshine that was now covered by dark clouds and raindrops that dripped down his cheeks. Before you had time to think your body reacted faster, and you were already halfway to hugging him. He accepted this form of reassurance without hesitation, and, drawing you closer to him, you landed in his lap, while he snuggled his face into the bend of your neck.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all this." you said quietly stroking his hair. "And Dustin is fine, he is fine, you are not gonna lose him."

"I can't lose him-"

"And you won't." You didn't let him finish his sentence. You moved him away from you so that you could look at each other and took his face in your hands, wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs. "And remember that you are not alone with your problems Steve Harrington, and you will not be alone."

Honey-colored irises looked right through your soul. However, after a while they began to take a different course. Slowly and uncertainly they went along your nose to stop at your lips. Suddenly his hands, which were now on the indentation of your waist, began to burn. Yet it was not a painful burning. The warmth was addictive, you wanted to feel more of it, you wanted to feel it all over your body. Your foreheads rested against each other and your noses brushed, lips were separated by millimeters when the magic was interrupted by his phone.

Like a burnt woman, you jumped off his lap, and he went to his room with the phone, not knowing how to deal with what had just happened between you.

Would you let him kiss you?

This thought focused all his attention, and all he understood from his conversation with his supervisor was that tomorrow was his day off.

"Would you mind going for a walk?" you asked when he returned to the living room.

"Sure."

The autumn air was not the hottest, but the warm sweaters you were wearing adequately protected you from it. The setting sun was a beautiful orange color quite like the leaves quietly crunching under your shoes. Steve wordlessly followed you, not even focusing on the road. Walking in your company seemed to be a good cure for shattered nerves, especially since the scenery was equally soothingly beautiful. On the way to your destination, you made a brief stop at a flower shop, not far from the cemetery. At that moment he knew what your destination was.

"It's okay if you don't feel like going there." You said stopping in front of the gate.

"No, it's fine." he replied and moved ahead.

"This place…I found a weird peace in here for the first few days after my dad died." you explained as you approached the grave. You placed a flower on it.

Steve did not respond. But you were right, the place was surrounded by a strange atmosphere of calm. The falling nightfall sharpened the burning candles. Their rays were small but warm, and together they created a solemn scenery. He associated the flames with the emotions you stirred in his heart. Emotions that were bubbling up inside him and begging him to let them out. Emotions that he no longer had the strength to keep inside, and despite the fact that the cemetery was the last place to confess love, he decided to do so.

"Thank you." he said finally.

"For what?" you asked turning your face toward him.

"Letting me in."

"Thank you for being patient enough." The smile with which you answered this was also as warm as the lights burning in front of you.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

He expected shock, anger, laughter on your part. He expected each of the worst reactions. However, he did not expect the calmness with which you accepted what he said. He didn't expect your hand intertwining your fingers and the other landing gently on his cheek.

"I think I'm falling in love with you too, Steve." you whispered.

That was enough for him to lean in and bring your lips together. The kiss, at first shy and gentle, deepened into something passionate and filled with relief that something that was supposed to have happened a long time ago was finally happening. It was as if everything had suddenly found its rightful place in the universe.

As you pulled away from each other, he spun you around so that your back rested against his chest and your arms locked in a bear hug. With a wide smile and tears of happiness in your eyes, you looked at your father's grave.

"Thank you." you said quietly.

"It's me who thanks you." he whispered in your ear.

"It wasn't to you." you giggled, and he made a confused sound. "It was to Dad."

"Oh."

"He placed a real angel in my path." You didn't have to wait long for a response. After a while, you were face to face again giving each other kisses interrupted by smiles.

"Let's go home." you whispered between kisses.

"Home?" he asked with hope in his voice.

"Home." You confirmed by kissing him again.

taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @tlclick73

[bellysoupset]

Sick Max + Caretaker Vince - Part 2

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

Wendy was a Tylenol and a cup of chamomile tea into sleep when her phone started ringing, from across the room.

It was the age old technique of leaving her phone out of reach so she'd be forced to get up to turn off the alarm and not risk falling back asleep in the process. Normally she was such a heavy sleeper than even this didn't stop her from sleeping past at least two alarms.

So it was much to her annoyance when she pushed her sleeping mask off and it wasn't 8 AM as it should be, but instead dark out. For a second Wendy considered not getting up, however the ringing was insistent and she was too curious to just go back to sleep.

P.Magnt - flashed across the screen, over a picture of Vince all sweaty, cheeks ablaze and curls a mess, in his football uniform. Wendy's heart plummeted to her stomach.

"Vin? What's wrong? It's the middle of the night-"

"Hey, hey, hey-" His voice was steady and soothing and Wendy let out a sigh, settling back against the pillows, still upright, but not as straight, "easy, honey. I'm fine."

"Uhm," she yawned, "the why are you calling me at-" Wendy squinted at her too bright screen, "two forty five AM?"

"I'm really sorry to wake you up, Wen," Vince sounded tired, but not sleepy in the least, "I just need your expertise for a minute, because Google is telling me fuck-all."

"...What is it?" Wendy yawned, sliding down on the bed and pulling sleeping mask down once more.

She heard shuffling around, then Vince cursing and faintly, far in the background, the noise of someone coughing, "when should I be worried about dehydration if someone is throwing up non stop...?"

"God," she groaned, "please don't say you're sick, Vin-"

"No! No, not me, I'm fine," he hurried to soothe her, "Daniels, my coworker."

"Oh, I know who Daniels is," Wendy couldn't help but tease him, "how long he's been sick for?"

"I don't know, uhm- Since around ten... I think ten, yeah."

She tried to do the count, landed in a vague four hours and left it at that, "he's got diarrhea as well?"

"Nope, don't think so. Not on my watch, at least."

Wendy smiled, wrinkling her nose. In another life, he should've been a health professional, "he's dizzy? Lost consciousness?"

"Dizzy, yeah, but very conscious. Pain in my ass," Vince's voice got louder, clearly meaning for the other guy to hear it. In the background, Wendy heard a door opening and a loud groan, "we got a medic at the resort, but he doesn't want me to take him there."

"It's embarrassing," Wendy heard Max say, voice all husky, "humiliating."

"So is dying during the kid's field trip," Vince pointed out, but Wendy interrupted before he decided to elaborate in the bickering.

"Vin, I think he's out of trouble. Give him an hour before trying liquids again, then try ice chips every other 15 minutes, and only after you empty two cups he's allowed to have sips of water. Just sips!"

"Yes, ma'am," Vince answered cheekily, voice thickening up with a yawn, "alright, so I don't have to worry he's dying? It's been non-stop."

"Not unless he starts losing consciousness or you notice a very dry mouth, if he still has liquid to bring up its generally a good sign," Wendy turned on her side, snuggling up her phone, "take him-" she yawned, "take him to the med bay if the puking doesn't taper off in 4 hours."

"Alright," Vince let out a sigh, "thank you, honey. And I'm sorry for waking you up-"

"No," Wendy smiled, "it was nice hearing your voice, I was sad you didn't call before bed. Now I know why."

"Yeah, sorry, it's been a mess," Vince sounded wounded, "I'll call you tomorrow, I promise."

"You better," Wendy yawned once more, "I'm going back to sleep, text me in the morning about your patient, nurse Monacelli. Love you."

"Love you too and thank you again," she heard a noise like Vince sending her a kiss and Wendy grinned to herself, letting her phone fall between her pillows, not bothering to hang up.

-----------

Max was curled up on his side, shivering non stop and Vince didn't like it one bit. The puking he could handle, the fever...

"Hey, let's try the ice chips," Vince crouched down, sitting on the side of his coworker's bed and the blonde simply curled up more at the jostling of the bed.

"Won't stay down," he croaked, causing Vin to roll his eyes.

"Nothing to stay down," he pointed out how small the ice chips were, holding a spoonful up to Max' cracked lips, "c'mon, man, otherwise I'll have no choice but take you to the med bay here."

"Noo-URGHP-" his whine morphed into a burp and Max scrambled to sit up, but he was long empty and didn't bring anything up despite the heaving. He let out a groan, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, "my head is killing me."

"Because you need to drink something," Vince pushed the spoon closer to the other man's mouth and he fully expected Max to slap his hand away, but instead the blonde opened his mouth obediently and took the ice.

His grimace melted away at the sensation of the cold melting ice and he took in another spoonful, letting out a unsatisfied noise when Vince put the paper cup away.

"Sorry, we'll try in fifteen minutes," Vince winced in sympathy and Max nodded, falling back against the pillows and curling up, wrapping both arms around his stomach.

It was unnerving to see the guy so down for the count, it made Vince want to shake him like a rattle toy. Instead, he fixed the room, washing the trashbin in the bathroom and setting it back down next to Max's head, covering the guy with a thin blanket and finally falling into bed.

It was around 5 AM when Vince woke up with stirring. He was an incredibly light sleeper, so this wasn't surprising. For a minute he just lied there, trying to figure out what was happening, only to hear a choked up sob and the noise of liquid hitting plastic.

"Aw, man," Vince yawned, stumbling out of his bed and crossing the dark room, "there's no way you got anything to bring up..."

Max hiccupped, then let out a pitiful moan, "kill me, Vince."

"In Canada? I'll get in too much trouble for it to be worth it," Vince teased, planting a hand on the man's trembling back. Sleepy as he was, he couldn't hold back from how touchy he was.

Max let out a little shaky chuckle, moving on the bed in order to muffle a sick burp against the pillow, "my eyes hurt..." he mumbled, sounding more than a little drowsy.

"Hold on," Vince yawned, walking to the bathroom. He grabbed the little hand towel, then folded it in half and ran it under the water tap, before returning to the room. It wasn't as dark anymore, the sun just starting to appear in the cloudy horizon, bathing the room in dark grey color.

He crouched next to bed, wrinkling nose as he got a clearer view of the bin, with only some cloudy water sitting inside of it, "c'mere-" Vince instructed softly, grabbing the blonde's bicep and forcing him to uncurl, so he facing up instead of having his face buried in the pillow, then he planted the humid washcloth over the man's forehead and eyes.

The effect was immediate, Max's whole body melted against the mattress, tension leaving him, "whoa... Thanks..."

"No problem," Vince shrugged, grabbing the bin, "try to sleep."

Daniels nodded and Vince went back to the bathroom to clean out the bin. Once he was back, Max was snoring softly, seemingly not in pain, his face slack.

Vince yawned in his fist, stumbling back to bed and rolling on his side, hoping to get a couple more hours to sleep before their alarm went off at 8 AM.

As soon as he was up once again, he was checking on his co-worker-rival-friend. Max was curled up, the washcloth had fallen from his forehead, but the head had diminished considerably, to the point Vince let out a relieved sigh.

The blonde stirred slightly with the touch, frowning and opening his eyes, "what...?"

"Nothing," Vince shook his head, "just checking your fever, go back to sleep."

"Uhm-" his eyes slipped close once more, but he frowned, "what time is it? Do I have to get up? The stude-"

"I got them," Vince ruffled Max's hair without thinking, then pulled back his hand, cringing to himself. Thankfully Daniels was too out of it to think about the gesture.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, get some rest." Vince stepped away from the bed, but not before he heard Max's little:

"Thank you, Vin..."

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 14 - At the end, it is only the beginning

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: It had been beyond hard for both of them, which now included several weeks of Cooper not communicating with her at all. Lucy was pretty sure this was the end of their relationship, which hurt more than she could really put into words.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Medical stuff, Animal/people death, dead animal mutilation, general horror, religious themes, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman,

Note: And somehow we have found the end

Lucy rolls into the room, where Cooper is lying, Richard and Dorothy sit beside him. Richard looks like he has aged a century, Dorothy gets up and comes over to embrace Lucy. Margie parks Lucy beside Richard, he squeezes her hand as they all turn to Cooper. The man is covered in blankets, IVs, hookups, tubes, wire, and a bank of monitors. His eyes are closed, and he is covered in bruises, cuts, and marks, Lucy is positive that if she removed the blanket she’d see cut wounds across his chest. 

“He’s breathing on his own now. It’s just a matter of time before he wakes up.” Dorothy says, her hand gripping her sons. “You saved his life, all of theirs.”

Lucy swallows, she would rather they were angry with her. They should be angry with her, she had led them into the woods with a creature that was more powerful than anyone could explain. As close to a God as Lucy had ever been to, one that was tangle-able, real, and was now living inside her. Was she still a threat to them? Would they ever be safe? 

“I don’t remember getting them out,” Lucy says quietly, “I remember John getting into the ambulance, but it’s a blur.” 

It was a lie, a calculated one, but there wasn’t really room for truth right now. The morning interview with the Psychologist was frustrating enough, she was not staying here any longer than she needed. 

“You don’t remember?” Dorothy looks at her son, her face scrunched up like she ate something sour. “You dragged them out of there. Don’t know how you got them onto the four-wheeler, but you did.”

Lucy shakes her head, “I remember being in the back of the ambulance and waking up here. Not much else. I was so surprised they were all here.” 

“Can’t blame you for that, it was a horror show what the cougar did,” Richard states, Lucy turning towards him, something passing between them. A knowledge that they both knew more than they were letting on, but to keep it quiet for now. 

“If it wasn’t for you, there’be four dead bodies instead of one,” Harris states, squeezing her shoulder.  She feels comfort in knowing that her Uncle had her back, what had actually happened would be discussed away from prying ears. 

Lucy isn’t sure how long she sits there, everyone coming and going, nurses constantly checking. She desperately wants to hear Cooper speak, to know that he is going to wake up, but he still lies there. Breathing and heartbeat stable, Doctors are still without answers until he awakens. 

“Heard you were awake,” A gruff raspy voice rumbles in, Lucy looks towards the door to see John rolling in. He looks chipper considering his state, his hair now braided into two neat rows, a several-days beard covering his tanned face. Despite everything a sly smile covered his face

“John,” Lucy says, moving her own wheels towards his. “I am so happy to see you.”

John gives a weak grin, as he moves over to her, Lucy scooting so there is room for him. She squeezes his hand, hoping to provide some comfort. 

“Cooper still out?” He asks as he looks Cooper over, "It never gets easier to see someone hooked up to everything."

“They said he could wake up anytime,” Lucy says, reaching to hold one of Cooper’s hands. “If he isn’t up tomorrow they are going to do more scans.”

“He’ll wake up,” John says, his hand rubbing at the top of his legs. Lucy watches him closely, unsure of what to say. “They figure it’ll be a few weeks before prosthetics are fitted, they have been showing me how to get in and out of the chair. Can pee by myself now.”

They both chuckle at the comment, Lucy feels her stomach twist. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through, Lucy had walked away with nothing but a few bruises and scratches. Whereas John's life would be forever changed by their small journey into the forest.

“I am sorry John,” Lucy finally says, though it feels so hollow compared to what he is going through. But what else was there to say? She couldn’t bring back his legs, even with Virol now hanging out inside her. Reattaching legs was even outside this deity's abilities.

“You saved my hide, Lucy,” John says, “Whatever-” He looks towards the door, Lucy happy they were on their own. “Whatever was in there, you had no sway over it. That thing, what was that thing?”

Lucy swallows, trying to come up with the simplest explanation. “Something old, it was so angry. The creature calls itself Virol.” She closes her eyes, knowing how ridiculous this all sounds even to her. “Tim, knew about it but didn’t tell any of us. I should have told you, stopped us from going.”

John shifts in his chair, fingers gripping onto the wheels. “Did you know it would have attacked us?”

“I am not sure,” Lucy sighs, her fingers rubbing together. In truth, she probably should have known that it would attack them and try to kill them. There had been enough warning signs. "I wanted to believe it wouldn't, that we had more time to figure out what was happening."   

“Then the cow goes missing,” John states, staring at the door. “ Lucy, you weren't the only one dealing with weird happenings. Things started gettin' weird when your Grandad got sick. I didn’t put it together until now.” 

“Like what?” Lucy asks, trying to get her mind to pull up anything odd from the last year. It had all been a blur, Lucy had been too new to really notice anything, and her uncle had kept things to himself. It was so hard to know what was normal and what wasn’t. 

“Last year's crops just didn’t grow as well. More calves died, cows died, lost a bull. Most of us just chalked it up to a bad year, climate change, whatever.” John shrugs, hands running over his knees. “Now, I am not so sure anymore. After seeing that thing, Virol, like the old gods my elders talked about.”

Cooper is suddenly coughing, and sputtering, his hand grabbing onto Lucy’s, eyes opening as he wakes up. Lucy moves to hit the call button, while reaching to grab water, she brings it over to Cooper who takes several large gulps. He coughs some more, before leaning back against the pillow. A swarm of nurses enters the room, John and Lucy wheeling themselves backward so the nurses have all the room they need.

A doctor comes in shortly after, Cooper coughing some more as they look him over. His eyes dart around the room, searching for something, his mouth opening and closing as the nurse checks how his pupils dilate. They uncover his chest to look at the bandages. Another IV bag is hung, Cooper grumbling about the attention. His voice is raspy as he tries to get their attention.  

“M’fine, can I get some space?” Cooper huffs, as the nurse puts another blanket on him. His eyes glance over to Lucy and John, a small smile cracking across his face grumpy face. 

“Sorry, Mr. Howard, but we need to make sure everything is working as it should,” The Doctor replies, “Can you move your toes for me?”

Cooper squints at him, brow scrunching, “Yeah I can-”

The room goes silent as everyone moves as they look at his toes, at first they don’t move. Lucy feels bile burn her throat as she watches carefully. Then they move, Cooper flexing them, and bending his legs. He groans as they snap and pop, but they are moving.

“Well, that is the best news we could ask for,” The Doctor writes a few things down on his tablet. “Was hoping for a good outcome after surgery, we will have your surgeon come down. Go over a few things,”

“Can someone tell me what happened?” Cooper asks, the Doctor chuckles at the question, glancing over at Lucy and John.

“I am sure your friends will be able to fill you in,” Doctor replies before exiting. The nurses fuss for a little longer, making sure he is comfortable, showing him how to adjust his bed and where the call button is. 

Watching them leave Lucy then directs her chair toward the bed, John following suit. Cooper watches both of them, his eyes still squinted as he tries to focus. Lucy grabs the cup of ice and hands it to Cooper, who pops a few ice cubes in to crunch on.

“What happened to your legs, John?” Cooper asks, a glint sparkling in his eye,  Lucy covering her mouth at how forward the comment is.

John chuckles, not even flinching at the comment. “Didn’t I tell yah? New weight loss program. They take my legs and in exchange, they don’t pester me to cut out beef.” 

Lucy can’t help the snort that escapes her, the three chuckling at the ludicrous situation they are all sitting in. How had they all ended up here? It had all seemed so simple, go find a missing cow. Now here they were sitting in a hospital, grateful to be alive.

Lucy laces her fingers with Cooper's, “I am so glad we made it out of there. I was sure we were going to survive.”

“I don’t remember much,” Cooper rubbing at his jaw with his free hand, several days of stubble evident. “I remember Bert calling for us. On the radio, going to his location-” Cooper’s eyes fall, his jaw clicking as he clenches it. “It was leading us to it, was it that the thing we were reading about in the book? What Tim was feeding?” 

“I am not sure, I don’t know how to explain it.” Lucy licks her lips, watching as Richard and Dorthoy come in. The three of them exchange glances to keep the weird under wraps for now.

Now that Cooper is awake there is a lot of fanfair, as well as a video call with the kids. Hearing Janey and Matthias so enthusiastically ask when Dad would be home, made Lucy feel sick. She would be able to go home tomorrow, Cooper was another matter.  He’d need physical therapy, along with a lot of rest. The surgery saved his ability to move his legs, but if he pushed himself it could all be undone. There would be ample follow-up visits and more that Lucy was surely forgetting. 

If he was able to walk on his own with limited assistance and his scans came back clear they were hopeful he would be discharged tomorrow afternoon. Lucy had no plans of leaving without him. Saying she’d sleep in the chair if she had to, Cooper was not exactly impressed with her statements. That said Lucy had always been a bit bullheaded and was not going to let this go.

As for John, well that was a whole other matter. The doctors would be holding him for at least another three days. He would also need extensive physical therapy, this would be an ongoing process for the foreseeable future. Lucy had already talked with Harris and Margie about helping the Roths out. Dorothy had also offered help, between the three families and their community friends things would get done and covered. Lucy had already decided to cover as much of John’s physical therapy and prosthetics. It would probably wipe out her savings, but she didn’t care. John being able to get back to life as much as possible came before anything, money didn’t seem like much after what they had been through. 

Then it came to the discussion of Bert, he hadn’t woken up yet. Steph was understandably beside herself, the man was beaten badly. He had to be stapled and stitched back together, there was brain swelling, which meant he had to be put back on life support. It was still a roll of the dice as to whether he would ever wake up. Lucy promises Steph the same treatment as John, whatever is needed Bert will get. 

***

Lucy is standing in her kitchen, for the first time in months the place feels like home. There had been no more noises, no more dead coyote heads, no more screams that sounded like her Grandfather. Now it was quiet, peaceful almost. Despite Virol occasionally crawling around inside her or scratching at her bones.

Virol was always there, always, just a breath away. Lucy was still struggling with that, and Cooper was too. The thing that had attacked them, torn off John’s legs, and had Bert still laid up in the hospital, was now living inside her. It had been beyond hard for both of them, which now included several weeks of Cooper not communicating with her at all. Lucy was pretty sure this was the end of their relationship, which hurt more than she could really put into words. She had accepted it, he needed to keep himself and his family safe. So, if that meant they couldn’t be anything so be it. Lucy didn’t believe Virol would be harmful, not anymore. It seemed more than content to curl up under her ribs, and occasionally demand offerings.

She had made up calendars of all important lunar events, and how they tied to specific offerings. Tacking them up beside all her other maps, it felt a little insane, yet at the same time comforting. Virol would chime in from time to time, moving her hand or highlighting something important. It was helpful when it wanted to be helpful, the other night Lucy had been pouring over a bible trying to translate phrases and words. She had tried to find it, to wake it up and ask it some questions. Instead, she had gotten a hiss and snarl before it settled back again. The thing was more like a grumpy cat than a god, which she supposed made sense.

Now she walks into the forest with an offering. It felt different, the place was so much brighter, the colors popping like a grey filter had been lifted. It was astounding and so beautiful, Virol was still here too; she could now easily see him, shimmering and moving among the trees tops. The poplar and birch were budding with new leaves, the pine and spruce tips just starting to break through their paper casing.

Standing in front of the stump she wondered not for the first if she was doing the right thing. How could she still be feeding it? Still giving it life?

I will take everything from you. I will burn this world to dust and rebuild on your bones.

The words bounced around her head, she wasn’t sure how much truth was behind those words. Virol loved this forest, loved this land just as much as she did. Every time they walked into the woods she could feel it thrum with excitement. Would it actually throw a fit like a toddler just to prove a point? Lucy had decided not to test the theory, whatever it was, god, deity, or petulant child, it was powerful. 

She shivers, placing a fan of feathers onto the stump, Lucy had spent a good amount of time finding the feather and making them into the little trinket. Reciting a small prayer of thanks, and humility to Virol. Digging into her pocket she pulled out a bag of charcoal from the fireplace, dipping her fingers into it as she continued the prayers. Fingers trace over old carved ruins as the words spill out of her. They don’t always make sense, sometimes they aren’t even in a language she knows. The words flow out of her without thought, but with intention. She continues until the whole stump is marked, come fall Lucy had plans to pull some of the stumps out and recarve them. No matter what, she would do whatever was needed to keep Virol quiet and happy. 

Once the ritual is done Lucy walks out of the forest almost in a haze, Virol wasn't feeding directly off her, but he was still feeding. It had been uncomfortable the first few times, but now it was normal. After some water and a sandwich, she’d feel better.  It shouldn't have been so easy, so simple, yet it kept her and everyone around her safe.

Going up the hill Lucy hears the sound of kids chattering, truck doors closing making her feet pick up. As she crested the hill she saw Cooper’s old truck sitting on the gravel. Her heart stuttered in her chest as the man looked around the place. She lifted her hand up in an awkward wave, not sure what to make of him coming over. 

“Miss Lucy!” Janey calls out, running towards her. Even Matthias has a smile on his face as he follows closely behind his little sister. 

Lucy runs towards them squatting down to wrap her arms around them. Tears form in her eyes as she hugs the kids close, she had missed them so much over the last few weeks. Janey wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck holding her tightly, Lucy lifts her up squeezing the girl. 

“I missed you guys so much,” Lucy says, looking up to see Cooper a few feet away. In jeans, blue button up shirt, and cowboy hat on. He looked tired but happy. 

“Missed you too miss Lucy,” Matthias says quietly, Lucy reaches down to take his hand, the three walking back towards Cooper. 

Cooper helps detangle Janey from Lucy, despite her very loud protests, so they can walk back to the trailer. Lucy tries to meet Cooper’s eyes but he won’t look at her, she feels her heart drop into her chest, than his fingers tangle with hers and everything comes into focus. She squeezes his hand and walks them all up into the trailer, the kids getting settled onto the couch. A familiar encyclopedia is placed between them.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come over,” Lucy said quietly, digging around the cupboard for glasses. 

Cooper leans against the counter watching her, face scrunching a little as he tries to relax his still sore body.  “The kids won’t stop askin’.”

Lucy swallows but hands him a glass of ice, before going to give the kids two glasses and pitcher of juice. She drops a towel on the coffee table, the chance of spillage is high. 

“The kids are welcome anytime,” Lucy replies, it comes out harsher than she intended but she doesn’t correct it. 

Cooper sighs, reaching out to drag Lucy closer to him, Lucy wants to push him away. She wants to tell them that it’s fine, she understands, that their worlds are upside down and sideways. Nothing makes sense, and everything makes sense, and it all is just shit. 

“I just needed some time, Lucy.” Cooper murmurs holding her tightly against his chest. Lucy can’t help but relax against his chest, the strength of him surrounding her making her melt. 

Lucy leans back to look up at him, “ I’d understand if you didn’t want to be here. If you want this to be over between us.”

Cooper snorts leaning down to kiss her, his hands gently holding her face. He pulls away to press his forehead against hers, their eyes closed for a moment. 

“We are in this together, I am still getting used to the idea that this is real. But I can’t let you face it alone.” Cooper says quietly, kissing her again before leaning back against the countertop. “What happened? I know’ya haven’t told us everythin’, but I don’t want secrets. Secrets put us in this mess.” 

Lucy looks back at the kids, who are now currently discussing in detail about the size of wolverines and whether they would actually fight a bear. She nods her head towards her bedroom. The two adults walk over. Lucy leaves the door open enough that the kids can see them, but their voice shouldn’t carry. 

She sits down on the bed, Copper doing the same, taking his hat off to rest it on the bed. Lucy fiddles with her fingers trying to figure out what to say. It still didn’t feel real, even with the feeling of Virol twirling around her stomach. 

“I guess I will start from the beginning,” Lucy sighs, Cooper lacing his fingers with hers. She goes through the memories, trying to be as specific and detailed as possible. Even the gorey ones, the ones no one wants to remember. Then it came time to explain the near psychedelic experience of traveling through Virol’s memories, as well as explain Virol. 

Then there was Virol, which was difficult on a different level. A genderless, ever-shifting, unidentifiable being, that had god-like powers to mimic, and enough power to potentially destroy everything around them. The way Cooper’s eyebrows started to disappear he was also finding this difficult. Considering they both had been non-believers before this incident, finding out a forest god was living in your backyard was eye-opening. Lucy then had to explain that Virol, or at least a part of it, was living inside her. 

“You can feel it?” Cooper asked, looking her up and down. Lucy pulls her shirt aside, grabs Cooper’s hand, and pushes at the scar underneath her collarbone.

“Can you feel that?” Lucy asks, Cooper’s brows furrowing as he feels the knotted skin there. 

“It feels like an old scar,” Cooper says, continuing to press at it, “This was where it pushed its hand into you?”

Lucy nods, Cooper moving his hand away to settle gently on her thigh. “So you can’t get it out?”

“I am not sure,” Lucy replies, feeling Virol move up to scratch her ribs. Wincing she rubs at it, “I don’t think it would go without a fight.”

Cooper sits there for a moment just watching her. “Do you want it out of you?”

Lucy blinks for a moment, she hadn’t thought about that at all. Virol was part of her, yes it was uncomfortable, but she had never really thought about getting rid of it. She’d seen its whole life, and somehow she felt sorry for it. It just wanted to be understood, it wants to keep what it had seen grown. Virol didn’t want to see its whole world flattened, it wanted to see it thrive. Isn’t that what everyone wanted? It was so human, and yet Virol was everything but human. 

“I don’t think so,” Lucy replies, rubbing more soothingly against her ribs. “I think, with it being part of me I can manage what it needs.” She pauses, trying to figure out how to word the next bit. “It’s happy, content. It’s uncomfortable, but not unmanageable.”

Cooper sighs, shoulders dropping, eyes narrowing as he thinks through everything she says. Lucy was half expecting him to get up and leave, instead he shrugs, a small smile flickering across his lips.

“If it was anyone else, Lucy, I would think we’d both lost our minds.” Cooper smirks, his hand tracing patterns on her hand. “But I saw it, and I believe you. I don’t know how but I do.” 

Lucy gives a small smile, “So? Do you want to try and make us work?”

Cooper grinned, leaning in to kiss her again, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~

This was such a challenge and I am not entirely sure how I feel about it ending here. I know there are probably more questions, and honestly, I cut so much out cause it felt like it wasn't lining up. Will I come back to this? Probably. But for now, I am going to let demons sleep.

Anyway let me know your thoughts as always

@toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids

@therealcozyaxoltol @thattrainwreckmama

[lelianasbong]

Wyllstarion thought that’s rattling around in my brain—Wyll’s so willing to give anything for others, even if it’s something he needs, something he can’t afford to lose. So in the long term, if he gets into a position where he trusts Astarion enough to let him feed, it’s entirely possible that he offers himself up even when he shouldn’t—when he’s been injured, when he’s too weak and doesn’t have enough blood to be giving any away.

And Astarion, who has experienced attentiveness to his unspoken needs for the first time in 200 years because of Wyll, notices and stops himself, even though it goes against every instinct he has, and tells Wyll to rest instead.

HE WOULD BE THAT GUY. I hope you don't mind - I wrote a thing based off your thing.

Wyll coughed suddenly, the motion pulling at his wounds under carefully-applied bandages, causing him to grimace both in pain and at the memory of its source. Hours ago now - had it been hours? It must've been hours, the sun had set - he'd taken his own rapier to the gut after a frankly embarrassing display of being disarmed by his opponent in the melee.

He was laid up in their makeshift medical tent now, hurt but healing, his injured ego a small price to pay for his life.

He'd gotten too used to fighting creatures with more teeth than brains, wasn't prepared in the moment for an opponent that could match his wits, not in this barren hellscape where everything was more monster than man.

Sloppy, he thinks, angrier at himself than his enemy (long dead now - few could survive a githyanki silver sword to the skull, and gods if he wasn't grateful for that). He could hardly afford to be careless now, not with so many depending on him.

He vows to pull Lae'zel aside when he's back on his feet, ask her to spar, to encourage more drills and bouts of one-on-one sparring amongst their group in general. The better to brush up on his skills and endurance and test the limits of his companions' own.

They could use the practice, and not just because they'd had their asses summarily handed to them today.

Astarion was wan and bleary-eyed next to him, looking less ethereal in the moonlight than sickly, every bit the walking corpse he was in actuality. His features were drawn tight with exhaustion and pain - nursing several broken ribs, his left side mottled purple with angry bruises from a glancing hammer-blow that had his body ragdolling across the battlefield. It might've been comical if they hadn't narrowly escaped with their lives.

The vampire spawn was plainly exhausted and - and there was hunger there, too, his eyes a little wild with the sharp aroma of blood permeating the med tent, cutting through the noxious scent of sweat and stale air, the suffusive atmosphere of worry that hadn't much abated.

Shadowheart had spent herself patching them all back together and was finally resting, the candle in her tent snuffed out with a tired sigh. The camp was quiet except for Wyll's slightly ragged breathing, the muffled sounds of Karlach snoring into her pillow. Somewhere in the distance or the depths of his psyche, he heard the rushing of a river.

He wasn't feeling his best self. But he wasn't feeling his worst self either. A day of moderate hiking followed by getting his shit wrecked by marauders had him losing precious pints that Shadowheart had tried her damndest to get back in him, to some avail. The pain was tolerable. There were stitches in his side from where the blade had pierced his abdomen - Astarion's work. The lad was surprisingly deft with a needle, and hardly prone to fainting at the sight of blood.

Astarion, who hadn't yet left his side. Wyll wondered distantly if the scent of blood in the air was more a balm or tease for him - did it soothe, the way the scent-memory of the market in the lower city soothed Wyll? Cinnamon apple pie and brioche bread fresh from the ovens, the air suffused with saffron and cloves, spices of every sort peddled by merchants from Neverwinter to Chult. Or was it torturous, to be so near an ambrosia you could only half experience, to merely smell what you were forbidden to taste?

He wondered, but now was hardly the time to grill Astarion on the intricacies of his vampiric hunger. Still, he wasn't looking well. Apart from the extensive bruises and the shattered ribs that lie beneath them, his skin was waxy and clammy like a mortal with a cold sweat, eyes sunken deep in their sockets. Shadowheart could only perform so many miracles a day.

Feeding would hasten his healing. And Wyll wasn't feeling the worst he'd ever felt.

Fancy a nightcap? he thought, didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until Astarion stiffened beside him, subtle as the sun. A moment passed, the other man took a deep breath - necessary only insofar as it seemed to fortify him, his atrophied lungs didn't ache for air, did they? -

An unidentifiable look passed over his tired features before he schooled them into something more imperious, raising a dubious eyebrow. A cool hand landed on Wyll's arm, rubbing soothing circles in his bicep.

"You smell about as appetizing as bilge water, darling," he sniffed delicately, attempting haughty but finding that it didn't quite land. "I'd rather partake of fresh food, if it's all the same to you." He wouldn't meet Wyll's eye, and Wyll couldn't bring himself to comment on the tremor in hands or how very large his pupils looked in the lamplight.

Nor did he seem inclined to leave Wyll's side, and Wyll found that he couldn't bring himself to comment on that either. He chuckled tiredly instead, eyes falling shut, blessedly dark and drifting on the effects of a potent healing potion.

"Another time, then," he assented, mumbling through his exhaustion, "when I'm less rank and more appetizing."

He felt more than heard Astarion's answering laugh - curiously wet, but the threads of conscious thought were tenuous now and the observation escaped him as soon as it was noted, as the Blade of Frontiers drifted at last into a dreamless sleep.

[literallyjustanerd]

Clone Wars Hospital AU Headcanons

Forgive me my shameless indulgence, but years of working in a hospital has given me Thoughts™ so just for some stupid fun: Welcome to the GHR: the Grand Hospital of the Republic! Where the Jedi are doctors, the clones are nurses, and the padawans are interns

501st battalion: Paediatrics

212th battalion: Maternity

104th battalion: Gen-Med

327th battalion: Orthopedics

Corrie Guard: Emergency Department

Headcanons below:

Paediatrics: Ward 501, Paediatrician Dr Anakin Skywalker

The ward is split on loving or hating Anakin, there's no in between

He's great with the kids though, the patients love him

Rex is the unit manager who has more experience than Anakin despite Anakin “outranking” him

Has to gently steer Anakin back on track and wearily remind him not to make orders just to spite other doctors

Constant happy music playing in the ward, everyone has fun accessories and brightly coloured scrubs

Fives and Echo are the most senior nurses and also the worst influences

Together they can cannulate a kid without them even noticing but also they're the ones shit-talking the annoying/unhelpful parents in the nurses' station five minutes later

If the kids are extra good, Jesse lets them colour in his tattoo

Dogma and Tup are the new grads - Tup is great with the kids, gentle and always gets them smiling, Dogma makes them cry no matter how hard he tries

Kix is NICU-trained and somehow still remembers every single piece of anatomy and physiology from training. Unparallelled medication knowledge. He’s the one all the student nurses want to be paired with

Ahsoka is on her paediatric rotation under Anakin's instruction

She's the intern the nurses give their feedback and requests to when they don't want to talk to Anakin, because they know Anakin will listen to Ahsoka over them

Maternity: Ward 212, Obstetrician Dr Obi-Wan Kenobi

Obi-Wan works closely with Anakin, refers most of his clients there for their child’s care

Anakin did rotations with him in training, Obi-Wan sometimes forgets that he's now a fully registered doctor and will still try to instruct/encourage him

Obi-Wan has borrowed Ahsoka for days in clinic or in the birthing unit, during which time the nurses will spend their entire shift trying to convince her to come to their unit instead

Obi-Wan is beloved by the nurses because he actually asks them for their input, unlike SOME doctors who just give orders (Anakin)

Did you catch him talking to the unit manager after handover this morning?? Hardcore flirting at 7:05am?? Cody was definitely into it

Cody is one of the most involved unit managers - he’s on the floor with the other nurses most days, always staying overtime and pulling double shifts to help keep things running smoothly

Waxer and Boil are considered bad luck charms - whenever they’re rostered on the same shift, things will always go to shit

God forbid either of them mentions it being “nice” or “quiet” on any given day - that just guarantees that three minutes later they’ll have five labouring people come in actively pushing 

The two of them once delivered a baby in the parking lot outside because the mother didn’t make it in time - the parents still bring Numa in to visit sometimes

Their nurses have the best stories, sometimes even more gory than ED

General Medical: Ward 104, Physician Dr Plo Koon

Has Dr Plo been here forever?? Nobody at the hospital can remember a time he didn't work here

The best doctor, agreed by all nurses and patients

Keeps offering free check-ups to the nurses on the ward

Brings snacks for the nurses' station

Wolffe is the scariest unit manager there is - grads and students are terrified of him

The unit is the most efficient in the hospital because of it

God help the pathologist who loses a sample from them. He will not hesitate to riskman you

*Over the PA* “Visiting hours finish at 1900. It is now 1902. Get the fuck out.”

Emergency Department: Corrie Guard, lawless wasteland

Boost, Comet and Sinker knew him in training and are immune to his glare, they use this power to constantly fuck with him

Caffeinated to the point of medical concern

Lectures drunk uni students about the dangers of alcohol before finishing night shift at 0730 and going home to drink wine straight from the bottle

If Fox has to triage one more belligerent idiot demanding immediate attention for a stubbed toe he's going to come through the plastic window and throw hands

Take the turkey sandwich and shut the fuck up

Constant arguments with the ward over whether or not the patients are stable enough for ward transfer

Just take the fucking patient Wolffe, they've got enough to deal with down here, they're bed blocked and there's a line out the door

Orthopedics: Ward 327, Orthopedic surgeon Dr Aayla Secura

They all started in sports science

The most jacked nurses

Group gym sessions before or after shifts

I don't care if you're tired. You're getting out of that bed whether you want to or not. Use it or lose it. Mobilise, bitch.

They’re the ones who keep stealing the bladder scanner from gen med but won’t admit to it

If you witnessed the incident between Dr Secura and the unit manager Bly at the last Christmas party, no you didn't

Bonus:

The Bad Batch are agency nurses, they go where they're needed and everyone hates them because they make more on the hour for it

Weird mish-mash of different skills and background knowledge

Will go eat dinner in their car instead of in the break room with the other nurses

Tech will not stop correcting people on the wards he’s put on, he is not popular for this despite mostly being right

“You can’t nurse-initiate that drug.”

“That phone order is invalid. We need to call the doctor for another.”

“The patient’s blood pressure is 135/82. This is technically outside normal parameters.”

Crosshair openly shit talks the other nurses with his patients because he knows he won’t be there tomorrow to catch the fallout

[potatowoogan]

My Options On a WH Hospital AU?

Soo I just wanted to make this AU rant. I've seen a couple hospital/doctor AUs of WH and as someone who has been in and out of a hospital I better understand a lot of the roles Doctors, Nurses, CNA’s (according to google CNA stands for Certified Nursing Assistant) Ect.

I just wanna note for anyone who doesn’t know, that I didn’t come up with the original idea of making a hospital AU. Until I find out who made the first one to make the Hospital AU I will leave the credits to the original AU maker unknown as I truly don’t know who did do it but if ya know please let me know.

Some context

So a little context to better understand this version of this AU not everyone is a hospital staff member like in the other hospital AUs. You and or your ocs or the WH characters can literally just be existent in the AU as serving no serious purpose to the story (if you’d like to place yourself or an Oc into the AU you can comment what you/oc would play a role in I’d like to see what ya come up with).

Wally:

I have seen Wally be out as more so a director/doctor Also known as the Chief of medicine in the hospitals I have gone to (or can be known as the Medical Director depending on what ya call it at your hospital ya go to).

personality I just don’t see Wally as being a doctor, but if ya really wanted him on the team as one of the main medical staff then I’d see him more as a CNA. Anyways only because if we were to go off the cannon way that he understands stuff, he could help in assistance with nursing stuff. And not have it be souly on him to figure out all of the solutions to the problems, and instead he’d have a lot of guidance while being there to help. Also because is more less demanding role I’d say he would fit better in a hospital story as a CNA. That’s what I have him as in my personal hospital AU aka personal as in its in my head not on paper (the one I am kinda sharing a little of rn I guess, though I won’t share a lot as it’s more so one that I’ll keep to myself for now). Cause if we were to go based off of the cannon attributes that he displays it would match him because they don’t do as much as a full time nurse but still can help people (and or puppets in this case).

So Yeah I think that would fit him, especially in the children's ward or the general inpatient stay floor, definitely NOT the ICU where I go when I need to go to the hospital. Form what I know that’s one of the busiest floors

CNA Explained (For those who needs it)

According to Google’s description of a CNA with a little bit of my input. it’s an Entry-level role the providers for patients and nurses and can help in transfer of a patient (for those who don’t know what I am referring to when I say transfer, that’s when a patient arrives form an ambulance and can’t move themselves from the stretcher to the hospital bed), bathing help usually done with a nurse as well (or do form my experience that’s my understanding), feeding the patients. And also restocking the medical storage closet rooms and logging down patients information and history)

Julie & Barnaby (what I see them as)

As I mentioned I have spent a lot of time in a hospital. A good member/role of the staff that have seemed to help me get through stuff are Child Life/Volunteers. They help kids greatly with distractions like playing games that the child/children choses (lol ya kinda see where this is heading but for real that’s what the Child Life’s job entails)

Julie was portrayed as a nurse in a lot of the AUs and as for Barnaby I don’t know because I haven’t gotten that far into knowing the hospital AUd too much (as info on a lot of them is limited but, I would like to know so if ya have known about a hospital Au post or make one of your own ya can link it or send me the post) anyways I’d see those two working as a Child Life specialist because they are into games and support kids ect. Also I’d see Barnaby as the Head of the Child Life team as he can keep a conversation more straight than Julie but either way I’d see them as being on that team more that the main medical staff also Wally could go there too but yea either works for your mind and opinion.

Howdy, Eddie, Poppy, & Sally:

Personally again, I don’t see em as being on a medical staff team whatsoever. so they’d just merely exist and serve no purpose like explained above. And also I don't know what role would be good for them if ya did put em in (what roles would ya have em in and why?).

Frank:

Yes the Grumpy Man’s himself lol. If ya were to have him as any doctor in a hospital AU and or your Hospital AU then I’d see him as being an anesthesiologist (in a children's Ward mainly though can see some adults if that’s what ya wish to have in mind) and here’s why. The patients would be put to sleep anyways so he wouldn’t need to chat with people too much. Ya can through his grumpiness and sternness and he’s still kind hearted on the inside (a tough but caring for patients surgeon vibes though I absolutely don’t see him as a surgeon but what do ya think? Would you have him as a surgeon in your AU? And or see him as being one in a hospital AU?). I feel like for kid patients he’d be more explanatory towards them if they need to. Also with the professionalism he has the potential to have (at almost any career in almost any AU) he would probably stick up for what’s right for the kiddos/patients.

I might draw a little sketch of Frank in bug scrubs soon so Yee I’ll post that whenever I’m ready.

Ya can reblog or whatever. If ya do take inspiration off of this AU I don’t care about credits as idk how to explain it but I don’t necessarily feel the most comfortable being an AU creator I just wanted to put my thoughts out there.

Also I will probably add in the other characters at some point (Seeya and Latter as they were in this AU dream of mind but I don’t really feel ready to share)

(As y’all know) WH is owned by Clown :)

[awkward-sultana]

Scenes I would have liked to see in Magnificent Century (always being updated)

These are just things I would have liked to see, or honestly just hyper specific scenes I’ve envisioned in my own head. Don't come at me about realism. That's not why any of us are here.

Would love to hear everyone's opinions and what you would have like to see in the show!

Hürrem telling Suleiman about Leo and him accepting it A big part of Hürrem’s power in the harem in the show is that she got away with a lot of things, whether it be through manipulation or Suleiman’s love for her, but mostly it was through being smart and manipulative. That’s a huge part of her character, but it would have been nice to see a moment where she doesn’t win and has to come clean to Suleiman. His acceptance of Leo would have made their love more genuine in my eyes. He knew she was a slave and had a life before him.

Hürrem's past as a priest’s daughter When Hürrem went to Edirne, it would have been great to see her open the palace to the sick and nursed them instead of sitting there helplessly in literally one spot the whole time. We saw her help Hatice medically in seasons 1 and 2 and she was a priest’s daughter so we know she saw a lot of sickness and has some basic idea of giving aid.

Hürrem seriously going off on Suleiman at least once Again, a big part of Hürrem's legacy was how nuts Suleiman was for her and how she could get away with things other concubines couldn’t. I would have liked to see her really loser her temper at him at least once. Maybe go off about how difficult it is in the harem, being a woman battling for her life and her kids’ lives. It would have made their relationship seem deeper than it was in the show.

Generally seeing Suleiman's absolute obsession with Hürrem That man was nuts about her in real life. True Gomez and Morticia Addams.

Some good moments between young Mustafa and Hürrem Like thanking him for saving Mehmet from drowning in the first season or saying, “Thank you for being such a good big brother to my son.” She protected him during the janissary riots, but we didn’t see much day to day interactions between them. It would have made the distancing between them more impactful.

Another grown sultana in the family, like Mahidevran’s daughter Raziye It would have been great to see the dynamic between Mihrimah and another daughter, especially one that was older but still within her age range. The aunts were older than her and she constantly had to show them respect, so it didn’t feel like a fair fight. And Esmahan had to defer to Mihrimah too because she was the Sultan’s daughter. Another daughter who is equal to Mihrimah in most ways would have been fun.

Hürrem pulling away during the whole Firuze thing Hürrem had to stay on Suleiman’s good side because he’s the sultan, but I would have loved to see her pull away from him in small ways, like not spending time with him or choosing to eat alone and not with him. I’m a sucker for a good grovel.

Suleiman actually apologizing for things he’s done Again, I love a good grovel and it never happens in this show.  He always just got sick and woke up and told Hürrem how much he loved her. This goes into Hürrem pulling away during the Firuze arc and showing Suleiman her love is reasonably conditional. Again, real life Suleiman was whipped for Hürrem.

Ibrahim and Hürrem bonding at least once over being slaves and considering what their lives might have been like at home This kind of goes into my last point of Hürrem pulling away from Suleiman when he was with Firuze. I always thought that would be a great scene when they’re having dinner with the dynasty members when Firuze was in the picture. I envisioned Hürrem mulling about her “home” in Eastern Europe and confusing the dynasty about what "home" to her seems to mean now that's she's pretty unhappy, then asking Ibrahim in front of all of them what he thinks his life might have been like if he hadn’t been taken. This could have given way to a deep scene between Hürrem and Ibrahim as well as a sweet scene later on of Suleiman asking Hürrem to share her memories of her home.

Firuze slowly losing favor instead of an instantaneous decision There are so many deus ex machinas in the show that act as resolutions to issues and the Firuze thing was one of them. I would have liked to see her slowly lose favor, like treating Cihangir without permission from Hürrem or Suleiman, being disrespectful to Hürrem in front of him, or butting in on the family grieving Mehmet’s injury. 

Hafsa and Hürrem bonding over something other than hating Mahidevran, like the loss of Hürrem's unmentioned son It was great to see her realize  Mahidevran’s manipulations, but I hoped for a deeper resolution between her and Hürrem. We only see Hafsa acknowledging Cihangir’s illness like once or twice, which is so out of character, but I know they were trying to keep her firmly in the area of antagonist (crappy writing). Hürrem had another son, Şehzade Abdullah, who died as a toddler. Losing a child would have been a good bonding moment for them and brought them back as mothers.

Hurrem’s kids speaking Russian(?) One thing I always found wholesome is when children speak the language of both parents. It would have been a great homage to Hürrem's roots, since we didn’t see it a lot, especially in season 3. On that note, I would have liked to see Hürrem revert to her native tongue when she lost her temper, since that’s super common.

Mercan going over to Hürrem's side and staying in Season 4 One of Hürrem's best character traits was her ability to make her enemies her friends and Mercan was a great enemy. Convincing someone who was so zealously devoted to another dynasty member to come over to her side? Iconic. His and Sümbül's dynamic was also great and watching them being forced to work together would have been fun.

A reunion between Hürrem and Gulnihal, maybe Hürrem meeting Gülnihal's kids and husband and seeing Hürrem's kids grown Characters tend to disappear and never be mentioned again in this show despite their big influence on characters and their development. She should have gotten a kiss on the hand like Hatice and Suleiman did for Afife. She raised Hürrem's kids.

Ibrahim telling Suleiman to stay out of his marriage during the Nigar affair This is probably the most unrealistic thing I envisioned, but I love when one character beneath another in rank or station stands up to that person as a friend. And Ibrahim was getting bolder throughout the seasons so it wouldn’t have been totally out of character. 

Hürrem helping Nigar escape with her daughter instead of Firuze The whole Hürrem helping Firuze escape thing made no sense but it was in there to prove that Firuze was a spy. I think I speak for everyone in this fandom when I say I would have liked to see Hürrem help Nigar and Esmanur escape instead and the whole kidnapping Mihrimah’s baby thing not happen. But it would not hinge on the writer's hating Nigar's character and making her lose her mind and betraying Hürrem for a man.

Mihrimah being Selim’s valide sultan Mihrimah was well aware of the fratricide law, it was the whole reason she worked with Hürrem to kill Mustafa. She wasn’t so naïve to think her own brothers wouldn't get caught in each other’s crosshairs. Kösem forgave Osman for killing her own son, I don’t think it’s out of the realm of realism to see Mihrimah and Selim get back on good terms. It’s one of my favorite parts of her real life legacy.

Suleiman letting Hürrem do something really shady for him at least once He couldn't get his hands dirty, but he knew at least to some degree how cunning his wife was, even if he was willfully blind to it. Would have loved to see a "I won't ask questions" kind of conversation between them and Hürrem strolling from the room like a hitman for hire.

Cihangir seeing some sort of consequences for his naïve support of Mustafa As wise as he was, he was so painfully naïve when it came to Mustafa, seeing him face some consequences for that would have been satisfying.

Suleiman seeing more negative ramifications of sending Hürrem away in S3 Suleiman tended to send Hürrem off willy nilly because he could and not really take into account for the ramifications, especially in such a charged atmosphere. Seeing consequences to those choices would have been satisfying and would have reinforced Hürrem's importance as a partner, parent to adolescent children, harem ruler, etc.

Mihrimah’s trip back to the palace in S2 after Hürrem was ambushed being more difficult, like an actual kidnapping I really like antagonists being taken down by their own hubris and it would have been fun to see Hafsa suffer real consequences for her fake ambush. 

Hatice going off on Hafsa about how she treats Hürrem at least once in S2 She questioned her a few times in season 2, like when Hürrem's horse was stabbed. She did it a few times in calm ways in season 1 and once or twice in season 2, but seeing her lose her temper even a little would have been satisfying. I think this could have more happened if they had stuck to actual history and Hafsa had come as a slave and not a princess.

Suleiman seeking more comfort in Hürrem Suleiman was described as “weak” for Hürrem and it wasn’t really shown in his more emotional moments. The show expected us to be fine with his speeches and poems and see basic expressions of affection as “weakness.” When Ibrahim died, I would have really like to see him break down with Hürrem, his face in her stomach, the whole nine yards. He really just glared at her in that scene.

Hürrem and Suleiman being more of political and personal partners In the show a lot he tells her to “mind her business” and “don’t get involved in things that don’t concern you.” He also blew her off and treated her like a child when she voiced certain concerns (his condescending little smiles made me feral). A big part of her legacy was being an advisor to him and their abilities to share with each other what they couldn’t share with others.

The real importance of Hürrem's new haseki status and what that meant This was such a thing for me. Hürrem being the first with the haseki status was HUGE in the harem at the time but that whole story line was abandoned for the sake of rivalry between her and Mahidevran, which would have been there regardless. I hated seeing Hürrem curtsy to the sultanas in later seasons, especially in season 4 when Vahide was the actress. It was like having to watch Hafsa curtsy to anyone.

Mihrimah pulling away from Hürrem more during her engagement/marriage to Rüstem "Yeah, I'm doing this for my brothers but do you expect me to happy about it? Gush and fawn over having a kid with a man who kind of repulses me? I have postpartum depression? I'm super unhappy so I can't imagine why." Like I've mentioned before, big fan of having a character's ego come back and bite them and I think Hürrem should have suffered more consequences for basically telling Mihrimah her happiness doesn't matter. She was a little delusional in S4, acting all coy, telling Mihrimah she still loves Rüstem and they would find their way back to each other. Girl...she never liked her husband, stop trying to act like her homegirl and push her to be happy in a marriage she would have rather died than be in.

Gülfem standing up to Hatice at least once Hatice had a real high horse sometimes and even if she was insulting someone else, I could tell it made Gülfem feel a certain way because she was also a slave. This is yet another character I would have liked to see lose their temper in a more aggressive way. Like, girl, have some character development.

Some sort of resolution between Mihrimah and Esmahan Mihrimah had pretty much know other girl her age to lean on, I think it would have been easier to invest inheritance character if you saw her break down maybe once with Esmahan instead of trying to be tough. Like when Esmahan went to comfort her before her wedding. Mihrimha’s fake tough persona in that moment seemed hollow and just like a young bratty kid. Or when Humasah was kidnapped.

Bali Bey manhandle the sultanas a little bit during their questioning about Hürrem's disappearance I’m going to get a lot of flack for this one. I don’t mean him really putting his hands on the actresses, I mean like grabbing Şah's arm when she leaves. I like seeing haughty characters being taken down a peg. They would have seen they’re not as infallible as their status makes them feel.

More bonding between Gülfem and Hürrem at least once Gülfem lost a child and saw what Mahidevran and Hürrem had to go through fearing for their own sons. Hürrem had the chance to pay Gülfem some sort of compliment on the balcony when Cihangir was sick, like "I'm not as strong as you." Out of character, but this is basically an OOC post.

Hürrem let some things take their natural course Like when Mahidevran discharged Esma when she took charge of the harem. Suleiman would have caught on eventually that Hürrem was constantly unable to spend time with him due to taking care of 5 kids, or having to train brand new concubines.

Hatice being happy with her new husband I really liked him.

Hatice getting some closure about Sadika A big part of Hatice’s early character was her empathy for those below her (most of the time). She liked Sadika and wanted to see her happy and I’m sure Sadika had grown some affection for Hatice. I would have like to see Sadika write a letter to Hatice before attempting to murder Suleyman saying something along the lines of “I’m sorry for lying to you, my friendship with you was real but this was more important.”

Hürrem coming together with one of Suleiman's's sisters just as a fellow woman Maybe when Lutfi hit Şah, Hürrem was there and Şah let her pull her up off the floor. They were all women and mothers stuck in a patriarchy.

Mahidevran give Helena permission to clap back at Fatma In that scenes when Fatma was like "Did you really think you were going to marry him?" Saying something like, "At least he wanted to marry me" and Mahidevran laughing.

More affection between the concubines and other harem members and the royal kids They were all raised in the same harem, I'm sad we didn't get to see some found family-ish dynamics. Those kids must have had a lot of "aunts and uncles" in the servants. I'm sure Mihrimah saw more than just one or two of the concubines as mother/aunt/sister figures, especially as the Sultan's only daughter.

A better ending for Gülfem Because what the fuck was that?

Mihrimah going off on her aunts at least once While she had to defer to them because they were older and was an unspoken respect thing, she could get away with talking to them a certain way more than maybe Hürrem could. "I know you're trying to kill my mother and that can't happen because then what happens to us?" or "I know you killed Nazil, who raised us, and you thought we'd never find out and see you differently? Stop acting like you give an absolute flying fuck about us when you know what will happen if our mother is killed or Mustafa becomes Sultan. This is war."

Hürrem showing more affection to adult Mihrimah She absolutely had to defer towards her sons' safety, but sometimes she acted like she actively disliked her only daughter in S4.

Mihrimah not being a brat when she was young (S2) It would have made her rise to power more impressive and more endearing. Sometimes older Mihrimah just seemed like a princess who had never been told no so she always expected to win.

Mahiedvran and Hürrem sharing one sincere hug They had more things in common than not. They were both women, mothers, slaves stuck in a patriarchy and both could lose their sons with one decision from a man who has complete control.

Hürrem having more quietly pervasive PTSD symptoms. She displayed plenty of symptoms like hyperarousal, emotional over-stress, emotional dysregulations, hypervigilance, etc, but a lot of symptoms can be more quietly sinister and they missed that chance. The symptoms they did display first and foremost took away from her character because we couldn't differentiate all the time between angry Hürrem and traumatized Hürrem. "She's angry and violent and irritable? Oh, that's jUsT HüRrEm."

More rank-opposite hand kissing One trope I will forever and forever always live for is shows of deference opposite of rank. When Suleiman and Hatice kissed Afife's hand? Loved it. Suleiman kissing Hafsa's hand? Not totally the same, but kind of still love it.

Afife telling Şah and Hatice she was ashamed of them at least once Would have rocked their shit. And you know she for sure was.

Mihrimah being happy with Taşlıcalı in the end Probably the second most implausible head canon. They had both lost a lot and know what war costs, why not end up with another person who can empathize with your unique pain?

More of Gülfem and Hürrem's real historical relationship Always going to touch on sticking to historical accuracy when I get a chance. Leslie Peirce touches on the fact that Gülfem was probably more of a mentor to Hürrem than she was in the show, guiding Hürrem through what was an unprecedented rise in the harem and, therefore, a huge and probably shocking rise in responsibilities that Hürrem didn't know how to manage on her own. Suleiman trusted Gülfem with Hürrem when he was on campaign and Gülfem was most likely there when Hürrem died. Instead of being the dynasty's emotional support pet in season 3, we should have seen her turn coats for the better.

Women lashing out at each other for their children and not for a man The real reasons Mahidevran and Hürrem probably lashed out at each other the most was because the fratricide law dictated every facet of their lives. Love, sex and jealousy were not half as much on their minds as the show made it out to be. Let me see vicious mothers, not jealous girls.

Hafsa and Hürrem having one good hug Self explanatory

More about Suleiman's late children He had I think 2-3 children before Mustafa that all died of the plague that we never really heard about. And it would have given even more credence of the severity of Mahidevran trying to poison Hürrem when she was pregnant.

More about the entire royal family's grief and trauma with Sultan Selim I That man was batshit and you hear offhanded comments such as "I see your father when I look at you" when Suleyman does something cruel. Go more into that. What was it like to fear for your life, your son's/brother's/uncle's lives? Selim I literally hunted half his family down and executed them. It would have given them so much more depth as characters.

Leo haunting Ibrahim In the back of scenes, the blurry character the audience only just notices, the specter standing over this shoulder in a quiet room, the beating heart beneath the floorboards. The start of the death of his innocence given form, standing at the end of the hall as his body is being carried away. Fucking art.

Nigar being on Hürrem's side in season 3 and being totally psycho about it I would like like to see Nigar regrow the brain cell she had in season 1, but maintained her scorched earth policy in season 3, but on Hürrem's side. Would have been great. Snapped: Harem Edition.

The Development of Esma and Hürrem's relationship Esma was one of the harem girls Hürrem didn't like at the beginning of the first season and then she was one of the only people Hürrem ever trusted with her children. I would have liked to see that development, or at least the moment Hürrem chose Esma to be her kid's nanny.

[ms-fandomgirl]

BBHG: Tonkatsu (Ch. 4)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 5,291

Summary: A chance encounter in the Shibuya Train Station leaves you with a sore shoulder and a mysterious bento box. You’re willing to write the incident off and move on, otherwise preoccupied with navigating a new city and a new job, but a bombastic blond, meddling friend, and fate itself seem to have other plans.

Genre: Pro Hero AU, fluff, strangers to lovers, medical setting

Links: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Cross-posted on Ao3!

Tonkatsu - A Japanese dish consisting of a breaded, deep-fried pork cutlet. It is often served as a set meal with shredded cabbage, rice, miso soup, and pickles.

A crescendo of loud voices and heavy footfalls crested over you as you neared your destination. You grimaced, wanting to turn around and go back home, although that wasn’t an option here. Unfortunately, you weren’t in the train station. Those people you could handle. These were a different breed all together, and one you would rather die than face. In front of you, surrounding the main entrance to the hospital, was a sea of overly-eager reporters.

News of where Red Riot and Chargebolt were staying must have gotten leaked to the general public, although it also wouldn’t have been too difficult to figure out. Your hospital was the biggest one in the area, and it was also closest to where the attack had occurred. You tried to sneak around the outskirts of the mob attempting to get in, but your blue scrubs gave you away.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” one reporter asked, a young woman with pointed glasses and even pointier eyebrows drawn onto her face. You nodded quickly and tried to continue on your path, but it was too late. The crowd descended.

“Do you work with Red Riot and Chargebolt?”

“What are the conditions of the heroes?”

“Would you be willing to offer up a tour of the facility for an exclusive interview with our team?”

“When will the heroes be released from the hospital?”

They were most likely accosting you simply because you worked at the hospital. They had no reason to know that you did in fact work with Red Riot and Chargebolt. Still, you began to sweat at the thought that they had somehow figured it out, that they were targeting you specifically, and that they wouldn’t let you go until they had wrung every last detail from your body.

“I can’t answer your questions right now! I’m just trying to get to work,” you responded, trying to push your way through. This, however, was the wrong thing to say. You thought your answer was neutral, but the reporters latched on to your statement like a dog sinking its teeth into a prime cut of steak.

“So you confirm that you have information on the heroes Red Riot and Chargebolt?”

“If not now, then when would we be able to set up an interview with you?”

“What is it like to play nurse for two of the top ten? Are they still as charmingly handsome while infirmed? Hero Heartthrob wants to know.”

The last comment made your memory flash to a serene-looking Chargebolt, in a coma for the foreseeable future, and your blood began to boil. Who even were these people, to demand such things from you or anyone else for that matter?

“Don’t you have something better to do than harassing any poor medical personnel who enters these doors? What about reporting on the families of the injured civilians, or the manhunt for the villain? Go do your actual job and leave me alone to do mine.”

The reporters quieted in shock, and you braced yourself for the flurry of backlash that was sure to be unleashed your way. But it never came. Instead, their gazes morphed into something close to fear as the silenced stretched on. You failed to suppress a small smirk in victory, happy that even if you didn’t have their respect, as you doubted they ever respected anyone, you at least had their attention.

However, as they continued to stare at you, you began to feel a little uneasy, since they weren’t clearing a path for you either. You looked at the girl with pointy glasses who you now realized wasn’t staring at you, but at something directly behind your ear. You turned to look, but a deep voice boomed from behind, freezing you in place.

“You heard her. Scram.”

It was amazing to see how quickly the reporters could move when pressured. They parted cleanly down the middle, fleeing like beetles who had their dark log overturned and exposed to the sunlight. You finally turned to face one very ticked-off Bakugou, complete in full hero costume with a backpack slung over his shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest and a frown dipping the edges of his lips.

Despite his expression, you couldn’t help your small smile of gratitude. Playfully rolling your eyes, you motioned to the door, holding it open for him to enter. “You know, I thought that the reporters were actually scared of me for a second there. It felt nice.”

He chucked low in his chest, refusing your offer until you went in first. “It was quite a sight to walk up on: seeing some random nurse mouth off to a bunch of reporters like that. It was almost impressive, if you had upped your intimidation factor more.”

You huffed in frustration. “Would it kill you to give an actual compliment?”

“Yes.”

His words were harsh, but there was a slight bounce to his step that indicated he wasn’t completely serious. However, as the two of you made your way to the special ICU wing, his footfall became heavy, and all mirth slipped from his body replaced with a somber resignation. The change in atmosphere dampened your mood as well, and even more so as you heard raised voices coming from room 3307.

“I just don’t understand why I wasn’t informed of this decision until right now,” Gia said, her piercing voice echoing off the walls. She was standing in the center of the room, her arms crossed as she was facing Dr. Hiyashi with thinly veiled contempt.

For his part, Dr. Hiyashi looked surprisingly calm, although very weary from yesterday’s events. “The decision was made by myself and other nursing administrators. I appreciate your concern for these two top priority patients, but overall the hospital needs your talents of Diagnosis with the larger multitude of other patients.”

“But I could ensure that they are provided with whatever care they might need. Much more accurately than she could.”

Her attention had turned to you, standing awkwardly at the entrance of the doorway. You weren’t sure whether you were allowed to enter during this conversation, but it seemed now that the choice had been made for you. You opened your mouth to respond, but then closed it. She might have been throwing a fit, but you couldn’t help but feel there was some truth to her words. It was a concern that had kept you up last night, when you had been replaying the day in your mind, and it surfaced once again, trying to drag you down into the depths of uncertainty. 

“Oh yeah? What’s she doing wrong, then? If my friends aren’t being taken care of, I want to know.” Bakugou took this chance to make his presence known, stepping out from behind you. Gia’s eyes, which had previously been glaring at you, widened in surprise at his appearance. She at least had the good sense to look chagrined by her previous statement, now knowing that she had an audience.

She blinked, regaining her composure before giving Bakugou her most practiced smile. “I was just implying that if something did go wrong, my quirk Diagnosis would be much better suited for caring for them.”

She had dodged his question, and Bakugou didn’t appreciate it in the slightest. “She’s already been taking care of them for a full day now. If something’s wrong with them, then you should be able to tell, right? Use your quirk to see.”

She looked over at Dr. Hiyashi, who simply shrugged. It was obvious he wanted this conversation over with. She sauntered over to Red Riot first, reaching out to touch his shoulder. The tell-tale green glow that emanated from her hand signaled that her quirk was in use. After several seconds, she retracted her hand, making a show of staring intensely staring at his monitors. She did the same to Chargebolt, walking back to the center of the room with a hand on her chin. The average onlooker would think she was troubled by something, but you knew that look to be one of calculation. A pit formed in your stomach as you realized she was planning something. 

“Well?” Bakugou demanded, his full force directed at Gia. He stepped closer to her, not enough to be in her personal space, but enough that she had to look up to meet his gaze. “Stop the scheming and give me an answer. I don’t have all day.”

Your eyebrows raised and so did hers, shocked at being caught. She swallowed, attempting to clear her throat before answering. “Chargebolt is in perfectly fine condition right now, and so is Red Riot.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” He pointed back to you. “She can obviously handle things by herself.”

“But if something happened unexpectedly-”

“I’m sure could also handle it because that’s literally her job. Just like it’s your job to work somewhere else. I don’t get what’s so confusing about this.”

Gia was the first to break eye contact, glancing down to the side. You almost felt bad for her. Being on the receiving end of Bakugou’s bluntness looked like an absolute nightmare. Then again, with the number of times she had made your life miserable, you mainly felt a sense of second-hand victory.

“We can continue this conversation elsewhere,” she said, turning to Dr. Hiyashi. While she couldn’t bring herself to admit defeat, she did exit the room as fast as she could, not even sparing you a glance as you left. Your gaze landed on Bakugou, who had a smirk plastered on his face as he watched her leave.

Dr. Hiyashi coughed into his hand, drawing the attention back on him. “While I might agree with the sentiments you spoke out about, I must ask you to refrain from speaking to any staff under my care in that manner again.”

You thought Bakugou might try to pick a fight with him as well, but it seemed as though even he could put on a filter when necessary. He gave a quick bow of his head in apology to the man. “I understand, Doc. As long as she doesn’t come in here and try to start running things again, we won’t have a problem.”

‘So close,’ you thought, watching Dr. Hiyashi’s shoulders sag. He rubbed his temple, pushing up the hair on his forehead. You swore you heard the words “it’s too early for this” mumbled from his lips. Nonetheless, he turned to face you, holding out a clipboard.

“We’re still doing some blood work on them, but for right now, things continue to remain the same. We’re also still trying to determine the exact composition of the toxins flowing through their system. I’ll let you know when more results come back. For now, you’ve been doing a good job at keeping things stable.”

You nodded, and he left as well, eager to be out of the room. Now only you and Bakugou remained. Despite the tap of his foot, he did seem to relax a little once it was just the two of you. His shoulders loosened, and he stretched his arms high above his head before wandering over to the side of both of his friends’ beds, inspecting their faces closely before sitting on the couch.

“Thank you.”

You broke the silence with a low bow to the man on the couch. It was perhaps a little humiliating, but after the stunt he just pulled against Gia, you thought it might be okay to stroke his ego, just this once.

He grinned in response. “Believe me when I say that it was my pleasure. She seemed like a pain, and I definitely would rather deal with you over her.”

“Of course…” you trailed off. You’re not sure whether to be flattered by the statement.

To take your mind off of the enigma that was Bakugou, you look down at the clipboard in your hands. The blood tests that had come back already showed no other symptoms or new areas of concern, which you considered a win. However, the toxin seemed to keep them in this comatose state, with no progress made toward uncovering its nature or cure. You adjusted the IVs according to the doctor’s notes, in hopes of flushing out the toxins from Chargebolt’s body.

You had zoned in on your work, focusing only on Chargebolt and momentarily forgetting the other person in the room. However, as you turned away from your patient’s bed, you were met with Bakugou’s garnet gaze, focused completely on you as you worked. You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and he seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts he was buried in.

“Do you eat lunch here?”

The question threw you off guard, and you scrambled for the right words. “Like, as in here here? No. But as in the hospital here? Most of the time, although I didn’t have enough time to make a lunch last night, so I’ll have to stop by a convenience store.”

He squinted his eyes, appearing to weigh the options of his next words in his head. “Don’t.”

“Huh?” you asked intelligently. “I need to eat, Bakugou.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know that. Eat with me, dumbass. It’s my turn anyways.”

With that, he reached into his backpack, pulling out a bento wrapped in pale orange cloth. Your heart stuttered in your chest before beating with increasing intensity. He had cooked for you, again. And not only had he cooked for you, but now he wanted to eat with you too?

“What’s on the menu?” you joked, trying to take your mind off of the glaring implications of eating lunch with Bakugou.

He gave you a cutting smile in response. “You’ll just have to come back and see, but I promise it’ll be the best damn thing you ever ate.”

His words were extremely cocky, but you couldn’t help but believe him. They rattled around in your mind for the rest of your shift like loose coins in a dryer, incessant words that resurfaced right when you were beginning to think you were over them. Of course, it didn’t help that you had told Hina about the whole interaction, and she now shot you suggestive eyebrow raises and winks every time you looked in her direction.

Just as your luck would have it, you were incredibly busy. You counted down as the minutes ticked by, first in anticipation, and then in dread once your lunch break hit but you were still on your feet. You tried to finish your tasks as quickly as you could, but between chatty patients and an influx of visitors, you bitterly watched your lunch break slip away until a meager 15 minutes remained.

You all but sprinted to the special wing of the hospital in the time you had left, needing a moment to compose yourself before entering room 3307. Bakugou was right where you left him, leaning forward on his elbows and lost in thought as he examined a mess of papers he had spread out on the coffee table. Upon your entrance, he looked up, his trance broken. He flashed a grin before beginning to shove the papers into a manila folder.

“Almost thought you ditched me,” he said, motioning you to sit in the chair closest to him.

You complied, fighting the urge to wring your hands. “I got caught up in my shift, unfortunately. It felt like everyone had something to say to me today, which isn’t awful, but you know, definitely puts me behind. I’m sorry to make you wait.”

He shrugged, passing you the pale orange bento box before fishing around in his backpack. After a second of digging, he was successful, pulling out a sage green bento with small, smiling hand grenades decorating the fabric. He flinched as you couldn’t contain the laugh bubbling from your throat at the sight.

“It was a gag gift from Shitty Hair over there, after he noticed I kept bringing my lunches wrapped up in that orange one. Said it was ‘manly’ or some shit.”

He rolled his eyes as he said it, but you noticed that once unwrapped, he folded the fabric into a neat square before setting it beside him, away from the food. His gaze turned to you, and you realized he was waiting for you to open the box still clasped in your hands. You unwrapped it with care. Taking in a deep breath, a broad smile crossed your face as you hummed in satisfaction.

Neatly cut and almost professionally presented in the bento was the best looking tonkatsu you had ever seen. The pork cutlet was fried to perfection, with small flecks of red in the otherwise golden batter denoting a hint of something spicy. Next to it was a bed of shredded cabbage with thinly sliced pickles on top. On the second layer, furikake rice took up the majority of the space, with blanched greens and a sliced tomato occupying the left corner in lieu of the traditional miso.

You licked your lips in anticipation, muttering a quick blessing of thanks before eagerly picking up your chopsticks. You loved the taste of fried food, but you hated the act of actually frying it. That’s part of the reason you were so impressed with the tonkatsu. Then again, with a quirk that literally creates explosions, you supposed a little hot oil wouldn’t be an issue. The other reason you were so impressed with the tonkatsu, was because, well -

“This is amazing,” you mumbled, mouth full of food.

“I told you it would be the best.” Bakugou preened at your compliment, almost glaring at you accusingly for your lack of faith. 

You held your hands up in mock surrender. “And I believed you! I had my doubts from the curry, but ever since the mapo tofu and now this, I have full faith in your cooking.”

At that, he let out a small choke, swallowing his rice hastily before replying, “Hey, what’s wrong with my curry?”

“You know what’s wrong with your curry!” you stressed. “It was too spicy. Plus, you used squash, which is a questionable choice to be sure.”

“What, you can’t eat your veggies?” he mocked.

You gave him an unimpressed look, making a show of shoveling the largest bite of cabbage and pickles you could get into your mouth. You chewed without breaking eye contact, smiling as you swallowed. “No, I like almost all vegetables, thank you very much. Just not squash.”

Your mind began to wander, the talk of vegetables reminding you of the myriad of plant life you have back at your apartment, courtesy of Shiozaki. “I’ve been experimenting with some different spices lately too. Ever since I moved, I have an abundance of them at my disposal.”

“You’re new here?”

“Moved to the city for my rotationals, although I hope to end up here one day. It’s definitely been a big change though.” You trailed off as you thought about your time in the city, with all of its challenges so far.

“I hope I can make it,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Bakugou, but he heard you easily in the otherwise silent room. 

“Aren’t you making it right now?” He gave you a quizzical look, and you averted your eyes before responding.

“Yes, but I’m still in school right now. It’s all structured. Once I graduate, I’ll be out on my own, and I’ll need to figure out a job, and friends, and my life, and-”

“And you will.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the finality in his tone. At your worry, he had tensed up once again, leaning forward on his elbows towards you with his eyebrows furrowed. You thought he would have joked about your rambling, but the glint in his eye was nothing but sincere.

“And how can you be so confident about that, hm?” You tried to draw out your question, make it sound more like a joke, but the words fell flat. You smiled, but you were certain that the underlying current of uncertainty made it look more like a grimace. 

“Because it’s true, if you have enough guts.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, hoping for more of an explanation than simply “guts,” but the tinny boom of a thousand tiny explosions rang throughout the room as his cellphone went off. You hid your laugh behind your hand as he answered. He seemed deeply pissed to be disturbed by whoever was on the other line, but surprisingly obedient. After what you would consider minimal grousing on his part, he ended the call, sighing as he began to pack up his backpack.

“Sorry, but the boss called. I have to go in for an emergency meeting,” he grumbled. He was frowning as he said it, and it almost seemed like he wanted to stay a little bit longer due to his slow movements.  He reached for your bento box out of instinct, but you leaned away, clutching the empty box to your chest.

“It’s my turn to cook now,” you grinned, shaking your head and holding the box as far away from him as you could.

He could have easily gotten it from you, but he quickly gave up, zipping up his backpack instead. “I guess it is. Better make me something good.”

You scoffed, gaining the courage to tease. “Don’t I always?”

At this, he fully laughed. “Yeah, you do.”

You beamed at the compliment, and Bakugou quickly looked away, fiddling with the straps of his backpack before standing up in a rush.

You thought nothing of it, walking with him out of the room and down the twisting hallways until you arrived at the entrance of the ICU wing. After giving one more heartfelt thanks for the meal, you watched him leave before returning to your regular duties, feeling time tick by just a little bit slower.

The rest of your afternoon was excruciatingly painful, not because you injured yourself, but because you were stuck behind the desk of the visitor’s check-in due to a nurse calling in sick last-minute. It wasn’t that you necessarily hated visitors. Most of them were just concerned family members, and you couldn’t fault them if they were a little weepy or frazzled. However, it seemed as though the majority of visits had occurred in the morning, and the waiting room was left unnaturally empty.

While the quiet was welcome, it was rather boring after a while, so you began to busy yourself with updating patient files within the system. It wasn’t the most fun work, and it was normally handed off to an intern or other assistant, but it was better than sitting there doing nothing. You had finally gotten into the flow when a soft cough sounded above you, ripping your focus away from the screen. 

You looked up, coming face-to-face with a humongous bouquet, all different varieties of flowers but all in some shade of vibrant red. The arrangement was beautiful, but it was so large that the person holding it was completely lost behind the florals.

“How can I help you?” you asked.

The flowers rustled before a timid voice spoke from behind them. You had to lean forward in order to even hear it. “Uh, I’m here to see Red Riot, if I can?”

Your shoulders dropped at the comment, happy that your exasperated expression was obscured by the gift. The agencies of both Red Riot and Chargebolt had released an official statement telling the public that all gifts for the heroes should be directed to them for both safety and privacy reasons. However, it seemed like this fan didn’t seem to get the memo. You were mildly surprised that they had even narrowed it down to your wing of the hospital specifically, but you figured that if the ravenous news reporters could figure it out, a devoted fan could as well.

Nonetheless, you pasted on your best customer service face before answering. “I’m sorry! As officially announced by the Fatgum Agency, you need to direct all cards and gifts to them instead of us. I cannot accept this.”

The vase shook with more agitation, and a couple of lily petals scattered to the ground in the disturbance. “Oh, uh, you don’t understand! I’m not a fan of Kiri’s. I mean, I am a fan, but not just a fan. Um, I’m here to see how he’s doing and to drop this off on behalf of the Fatgum agency.”

After a moment of hesitation, during which more petals were dislodged, the vase was quickly set on the ground out of your view. The stranger stood up to properly introduce himself, but you were already gaping at him, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. You were an idiot, a complete and utter idiot. You resisted the incredible urge to bang your head on the desk in front of you in frustration. How many times had you heard that voice before? Only every other lunch break. Hina would never let you hear the end of this.

Standing before you, hands fiddling with the strings of his indigo hoodie, was none other than the Number 12 Pro-Hero Suneater.

“Of-of course. I’m so sorry about the confusion.” This time it was your turn to trip over words.

“No, no it’s really my bad. I should have introduced myself properly. I’m sure you’ve gotten some excited fans already. Sorry,” he replied, looking down at the floor.

You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault at all, and that you were the one who was in the wrong, but you knew the conversation would go on interminably. Previous interviews proved that to be the case. Instead, you shook your head, your air of customer service being replaced by a genuine smile.

“While I’d like to disagree with you about that, let’s just say it’s both of our faults and call it a truce, okay?”

He nodded in approval, giving up as you continued your spiel. “For protocol, do you have a valid form of identification on you? I just need to see it before you can go back and see Red Riot.”

His eyes widened in surprise, as though he had forgotten about this step. He began to rummage through his pockets, muttering apologies as he did so. You brushed them off with a chuckle, watching as he dug through the pockets of his pants, hoodie, and finally the jean jacket he was wearing on top if it. You had to admit, he might not have been your type on page, but in-person, he was pretty cute. Hina had a point.

‘Hina-’ you mused. ‘What she wouldn’t give to be here right now…’

“Here you go,” Suneater said, breaking your train of thought by finally producing his license to you. You took it from him quickly, looking at both sides just to be safe before returning it. Of course it was the real thing, because of course, this was the real Suneater before you. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You stood up from your chair, walking over to the intercom on the wall. You coughed once, clearing your voice before pressing the button.

“Nurse Hina, please come to the visitor’s desk. Repeat: Nurse Hina, please come to the visitor’s desk. Special request. Over.”

You returned to your seat before glancing up at Suneater, who seemed rather alarmed by your actions. You tried to don a mask of cool professionalism, but you’re pretty sure the corner of your mouth twitched upward as you began to explain the situation to him.

“Nurse Hina has been placed with the specific task of caring for Red Riot during his stay. Both he and Chargebolt are being kept in a special access wing, so she will escort you to their room.”

Suneater relaxed at this statement, not noticing how your eyes sparkled with mischief. Sure, you had access to the same wing that Hina did, and yes, you were currently on duty for visitor requests specifically, but Suneater didn’t know that. If things went according to plan, he never would.

The sound of footsteps were rapidly approaching behind you, and you turned in your chair to see a flustered Hina.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” she gasped out.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Nurse Hina. A special request has come in to visit Red Riot, and as the presiding nurse in charge of his care, you will be escorting this visitor there.”

Hina looked at you with complete and utter confusion, and you silently begged her to play along. Your eyes darted back and forth to the visitor area where Suneater stood, and she had the good sense to follow your gaze before saying anything first.

You knew the exact moment she registered who was behind the window. Her spine instantly straightened, and her eyes grew wide until the whites were clearly visible. You subtly bumped her shoulder as you passed her to open the door, attempting to break her out of her stupor. It worked, and she followed you out of the door to properly greet Suneater, although she still looked like she was in a daze.

“Nurse Hina, this is Suneater. He’s come on behalf of the Fatgum agency to deliver this bouquet and to check on Red Riot. Suneater, this is Nurse Hina. She will be taking you to Red Riot’s room, and she is here to answer any questions you might have about him.”

The two bowed politely to each other, muttering basic formalities before Suneater bent over to pick up the absurdly large bouquet of flowers once again. He nearly dropped the vase a couple of times, clearly preoccupied as his gaze remained fixated on Hina instead of the object in his hands. He eventually used his quirk to provide extra stability so he could hold the flowers with one hand against his hip while still keeping his face uncovered. You swore Hina squeaked when she saw the tentacles come out.

At this point, it felt as though both people had completely forgotten your presence, but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. You watched the scene unfolding in front of you with unbridled glee.

“The flowers are beautiful. I’m sure he’ll love them once he wakes up,” Hina commented as she held the door open for him. You slipped in after them, going back to the desk as they continued down the hallway.

“I’m glad you think so. Fatgum made me pick them out. I don’t have much experience with doing that type of thing, but I know he likes the color red, and so I just chose some that seemed to work together,” Suneater mumbled, but Hina had caught every word he said.

She nodded enthusiastically. “And they do! I especially love the tiger lilies. They’re my favorite.”

Suneater latched on to the statement, giving her the first genuine smile you had seen from him all day. “Oh really? Mine too!”

Their voices faded as they walked down the hallway, and you squealed the second you were sure they were out of earshot. You didn’t hear from Hina for the rest of your shift, but if anything, you took that as an extremely good sign. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful in comparison, but it hardly mattered.

All you could think about was that, without a doubt, this was the most eventful day of your life. That, and you were officially the best friend ever in the whole entire world.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this chapter! It was supposed to be a short one, but it ended up being the longest yet. Since it ended up so long and I traveled for the holiday season, I am unfortunately pushing the release of chapter 5 back to Dec. 8th (unless I miraculously write it in like 4 days). Sorry about that! I'm hoping that the extra time will be able to give me back the buffer I had built up before. Thanks so much for your understanding!

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