#because of med tech and stuff

[coffeeinthelibrary]

the whole “society is addicted to screens” trope is kinda overdone, HOWEVER my phone broke today and i couldn’t use it for seven (7) hours and was more productive in those seven hours than i have been for my entire life - i finished reading a book i’ve been putting off, i got some revision done, i went on a walk. and then i got my phone back and IMMEDIATELY went onto instagram and wasted an hour scrolling through my feed we truly are the most blessed and cursed generation

[quietwingsinthesky]

(missy voice) yes im evil but do you think im not going to take even to pick up their hormones? im not a monster, doctor.

[andhumanslovedstories]

The constant thing on nursing as a profession on this website is getting kind of exhausting to me. I am so truly sorry that people have had negative experiences with nurses and they absolutely do not deserve that. But it’s such a massive profession with such a huge diversity of people and practices and people paint it in such broad strokes and it’s starting to kind of hurt my feelings :/ Thoughts? Am I just being a baby/does this ever bother you?

Honestly the constant negativity I saw towards nursing was why I started writing about nursing so much more. It's not that I think that negativity is incorrect--people HAVE had horrible experiences with nursing, some nurses do abuse their power, and that even without abusing power it is easy to hurt a patient. I seek out and appreciate those accounts, people should share those, people have every right to talk about their experiences. But if we're being human about it, yeah, it does bother me to see posts that call me and everyone I work with mean girls. I don't think those posts shouldn't exist, and at the same time, it is frustrating that it seems to be the dominant narrative about nurses in the particular parts of the internet where I spend time.

A big annoyance to me is that SO MANY CRITICISM of nursing is gendered! We're catty, we're bitches, we're mean girls, we're "the female versions of cops" like there aren't female cops and male nurses. And frankly, the worst nurses I have worked with have overwhelming been men. To be clear and to state the obvious, many male nurses are good at their job. We also know that female-dominated professions get valued less than male-dominated, and that men in those fields disproportionately get leadership positions.

And I've listened to patient complaints about some nurses who, sure, may have had a bad interaction with the patient, but who I KNOW are superb, brilliant, and compassionate professionals. They're also women of color who don't smile.

Nurses are the tip of the spear, as people talking about med errors love to say. Nurses are at the bedside, present and available to be mad at. We wake you up for vitals at 4 am, enforce fluid restrictions, tell you there's no more pain meds, and take ten minutes answering your call light when you desperately need to pee. Nurses are very accessible to be mad at.

There's weirdness about the perception of nurses in general. We're angels, we're heroes, we do stuff that no one else could, we're caregivers, we're nurturers, we're miracle workers, we're the people in the hospital who do "the real work*," this work is our calling, and this work is exclusively wiping butts and hand out pills. And by the way, wiping butts is degrading work. That's why we're angels. A guy shook my hand in the grocery store today because I told him I was a nurse. That's wild. Fun to be a mean girl angel cop hero.

(*untrue. you could not pay me a billion dollars to do the work doctors, surgeons, PTs/OTs, lab techs, social workers, pharmacists, and a thousand other specialized and often much less visible professions do.)

[amsgrey]

Deja Vu II

Part I

Okay so, I have been researching more and trying to get things at least somewhat accurate before I wrote part two. In the first part, I wrote TBI, with further research, what I was actually trying to write is an Anoxic brain Injury (still technically a TBI). The whole idea there is when the brain is starved of oxygen critical functions are impacted and there can be a whole bunch of differing symptoms after it. OBVIOUSLY, I am NOT a medical professional, so take everything with a big ol' grain of salt. I am thinking of writing some more parts to this but purely when I have time bc adult life sucks. I kept the ending open but also al actual end, unlike the first part. Hope it is somewhat enjoyable.

WARNINGS: Medical stay, seizures, talk of needles + medical procedures, hospitals, Will and Jay being their usually angsty selves, poor writing and zero editing

"Will?"

Abrams looked between the Halsteads, not sure what his place was. Everyone remembered when Pat Halstead passed, mostly because the Halstead brawl was talked about for weeks. Will Halstead was known for causing headaches for plenty of people around Med, he was the topic of gossip all through the building.

Abrams was saved by the bell - literally. His pager started beeping, excusing him from the brewing storm between the brothers.

"I'll put in for the tests," He tossed over his shoulder, disappearing into the stream of medical workers.

"Will." Jay snapped, glowering at his brother.

Will scrubbed a hand down his face, "Abrams needs to run more tests."

"More tests?" Jay pressed, "What just happened, Will?"

Will shook his head, looking at his younger brother he knew, telling Jay how bad this might be, would destroy him. Jay hated hospitals, hated medical things in general. Will couldn't look him in the eye and plant the same fear he had gnawing at him.

"I don't know, Jay," Will sighed, "I'm not a neurologist."

Jay didn't want to accept his answer, but Will didn't give him much of a chance. He turned back to your hospital room, forcing a smile as he entered.

"What was that about?" You asked, exactly where they left you.

"Just more tests," Will smiled. He stopped at the top of your bed, checking you over with doctor's eyes. You could always tell when he flipped between Big Brother and Doctor because Big Brother Will wore his emotions. Doctor Will was better at keeping his poker face like he was now.

Will's eyes flittered around the monitors before settling back on yours. His eyes softened, the slight furrow in his brow disappearing and a smile pulling on his lips again.

"You feeling alright?"

You nodded, "I'm just tired."

Will nodded, he reached out and brushed the hair off your forehead, "Get some sleep, yeah? We'll be here the whole time."

Jay reached out and squeezed your hand, before pulling up the blanket and tucking you in.

A few hours later, you were sitting up in your hospital bed while a Neurology Tech attached electrodes to your scalp. Jay had left for home, for a shower and clean clothes. He promised he would bring back your blanket and pillow and some other stuff to make you more comfortable, seeming Will said it would be okay.

While he was gone, Will sat at the end of the bed, holding your hand through the Electrode placement. After the Tech finished, you were attached to a monitor with wires upon wires, all differing colours. The tech apologized for the cap that sat over all the leads, promising it wasn’t too bad.

“it’s a new fashion trend,” you joked, smiling at the tech, “Nuero floor chic.”

The tech laughed, continuing her work. When she was done, she walked you through what she had done. Explaining the placement and the leads, and how it all worked.

"This is your personal EEG," She explained, gesturing to the boxy machine on wheels that your wires were attached to, "Try to keep it close."

She explained a few more things, then promised to return in a little while. In her absence, Dr. Abrams stopped through again. He looked over the techs work, mumbling to himself and making medical comments only Will understood.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

You had already taken a nap, so you weren't as tired as you had been.

"Sick of sitting," You said, stretching your legs and accidentally nudging Will in the process. Will playfully batted at your feet, feigning offence.

Abrams pulled at the EEG machine on wheels, testing how the wheels glided, "If you are feeling up for it, you can go for a small walk."

You lit up, "I can?"

"If you take it slow," Abrams ordered, "And Will is by your side."

Will nodded, "Are you feeling up for it?"

"Yes."

Will helped you detangle yourself from the blanket, letting you adjust to being fully upright for the first time that day. Your feet dangled over the bed as you took a moment to compose your spinning head. Will pulled a pair of socks over your bare feet, muttering something about keeping your toes warm. He held your arm as you stood up, supporting your weight as your body adjusted again.

"You alright?"

"Mmm," You responded, focused on staying upright.

"Okay," Will wrapped an arm around your waist, "One step at a time, we'll try to make it to the nurse's station and back."

It was slow going. With every step you took, it felt like the world was twisting, like walking through an earthquake. Will's arms hovered around you, only holding you up when you needed the support. He was so steady in his support, his warm presence keeping you grounded and calm.

Two steps outside of your room, Jay bounded up with your pillow and blanket tucked under his arm.

"They're upright," He commented, "Nice hair, too."

He reached out and pretended to ruffle your hair, careful to avoid touching the wires around your head. You reached out to smack his hand, but missed drastically.

You frowned at Jay, frustration barely contained, "Sshut. uphh."

The words sounded fumbled through your gritted teeth. Abrams had mentioned how you needed to take things slow and Will tried to tell you that it might be frustrating at first, but you weren’t expecting to feel such anger. It was gnawing away at you. A week ago you were dancing around with Makayla, wrangling her for a weekend while Kim and Adam worked. You had run around, danced, sung, every little thing that made Makayla happy. Not you hardly knew how to move your feet, could hardly tell what direction was up.

The anger grew and held firm in your head, making itself known with its red cloud fogging your mind.

Will grabbed your hand, "You okay?"

"Hmm."

Your vision blurred, everything swaying and twisting as you fell forward.

Will was faster than Jay was, for once. He saw the signs a mile away, already braced for when you would fall. He held you to his chest, lowering both of you to the ground and cradling your head as your body started to convulse.

Jay immediately dropped what he was carrying, falling to his knees by your side. Jay looked up at Will trying to ask silently what to do, but the eldest Halstead had gone full doctor mode.

"Need some help over here!" Will shouted, calling for the nurse's assistance.

"I need you to breathe,” Will spoke with such certainty, like he was treating any other patient.

“You’re okay,” Will kept repeating, “Just breathe, I’ve got you.”

Jay was ushered out of the way by the nurses, who crowded in with monitors and equipment to help Dr Halstead. All Jay could do was watch helplessly.

Jay held his breath as the medical team got you off the ground and transferred you back to the hospital bed. The leads they had removed that morning were reattached, placed on your ashen skin.

Dr Abrams rushed into the room and ordered Will to get out of his way, the forced politeness gone now the situation was emergent. Will stepped back, somewhat dubiously, letting Abrams run his team.

“How did you do that?” Jay asked when will stood by his side, the pair of them watching as Abrams and the team worked.

With a dose of meds, the convulsions stopped, but the team checked over the leads and kept working.

“Do what?” Will asked, turning to look at his brother. Jay had grown pale, the fear and anxiety he felt spelt out across his features. His eyes kept darting from you to the heart monitor screen like it was going to flatline.

“Stay so calm?” Jay whispered, taking a deep breath for the first time in the last few minutes. The nurses placed a mask over your face, securing it behind your head and then leaving the Halsteads and Abrams in the room.

“Jay…” Will tried to find a way to explain it, how he could just shut off his fear in that moment to help you. But he couldn’t find the words.

“She’s stable,” Abrams spoke in the silence that had formed, “From now on, we’ll keep giving them diazepam to keep them relaxed. No more strolls, even if it is supervised.”

Will nodded, taking it in.

Abrams was mostly speaking to Will, Jay was by your side, focused solely on you. He held your hand, careful to avoid the IV that was in the back of it. He watched you breathe, every-time you exhaled, he watched the mask fog up. He listened to the quiet puffs and the melodic beeping. You were okay. He kept trying to force himself to remember that. You were okay.

“Hopefully we can get this under control. In the meantime, we’ll keep monitoring, keep on with the EEG testing for the next few hours. Hopefully we’ll learn more.”

Will nodded, clapping Abrams on the back, “Thanks, Sam.”

The big brother in him wanted to press for answers, but the doctor in him knew that sometimes Doctors didn’t have the answers. If Abrams knew, he would share.

Will did a check over you and the monitors with his eyes, again. Then looked over to Jay, who looked completely deflated. It was no secret that Jay hated hospitals and medical treatment in general, especially needles. Spending time in hospitals usually gave him the creeps and he would always say to Will, “I don’t know how you do it, man.”

But Jay hadn’t complained even once. Not when he was watching the IV get put in your hand, or while you were attached to countless machines. Will knew it was because he felt hopeless. The same look that he wore at their dads bedside he wore now. Will stood and stared for a while, the memory playing in his mind in time with real life. This was different. You weren’t on life support like your father had been, things were different. That didn’t change the memories Will had of his dads last moments plaguing his mind.

“I stayed calm because i had too,” Will finally spoke. Jay looked up, watching his brother cross his arms over his chest and take a deep breath.

“I had to stay calm, for her.”

Jay shook his head, “I just froze, Will. And you-“

“Trained for years to react in medical emergency situations, spent years working the ER,” Will interrupted.

“Jay,” Will reached over the bed and gave jays shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I do this every day. I know how to tune out the emotions and focus on medical stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Will sat on one of the chairs, mirroring Jay across the bed, “Listen. I could never get used to being shot at, could never be shot at and react how you do. Because I’m not trained, I’m not good at that. You aren’t a doctor Jay, stop beating yourself up over something that was a basic human reaction.”

Jay didn't answer, letting silence fall over the room. Neither one of the brothers was up for a conversation, mostly just consumed with their own thoughts as they watched you sleep.

You had stirred a few times in the coming hours but mostly stayed sleeping. Will told Jay that it was a combination of the medication and the stress of recent events catching up with you. In his words, it was nothing to worry about.

"Hey," A soft voice called from the door, Will and Jay stood to greet Hailey as she stepped into the room.

Will and Jay had been off work since you had gotten worse, staying by your side or close by ever since. Both Voight and Goodwin understood, giving them all the time they needed.

"I brought some supplies," Hailey joked, handing food over to the brothers, "And I stopped by home and Wills, got some clothes."

"Thanks, Hailey."

"Yeah, Of course." Hailey stood by Jay, taking his hand for his comfort. "How's she doing?"

Will relayed the events of the day, the incident in the hall and all the things that had happened since. Things were moving fast, more tests and hopeful treatment plans were being talked about.

"It'll be okay," Will finished, mostly trying to convince Jay more than himself. He knew the look on Abram's face, knew that everything was far from okay.

Will told Jay to go back to work after a week, promising him that sitting by your side was a one-man job. Will had spoken to Goodwin, who agreed to let him take his occurred PTO for as long as he needed. So for the three weeks you were in the hospital he stayed by your side. You weren't used to having Will there every single minute of every single day, but you didn't mind it too much. Mostly he helped you go on walks or watched over you like a personal nurse. You knew that he and Jay were worried, but the overprotective brother act was suffocating at times. During the last week of your stay, you managed to convince him to let you have more space - that when he left the room you wouldn't make a break for it like Jay would. He agreed hesitantly, mostly hanging around from lunch until you fell asleep at night. You complained to Jay when he visited every day, but you were thankful he was there.

On the last few days of your time in the hospital, you were more independent, nothing like what you were before the accident, but more than before. You could walk small distances unsupported and some of your fine motor skills came back. The PT had told you it was common after TBI's for patients to lose control of their movements and motor skills, she promised that you would get better as time went on.

Dr Abrams had spoken to Will and Jay about Rehabilitation centres, there were a few in the city that focused on TBI rehabilitation but Will had been dragging his feet. Jay wanted to do what was best for you, even if it meant you might have to stay in a rehab facility. Will had a sour taste in his mouth over it all.

"Come in," Goodwin called from inside her office.

Will pushed open the door, greeting Sharon and Peter.

"What can I help you with, Doctor Halstead?" Sharon asked after Peter had left.

Will explained his plan, reviewing all the details he had sorted out. When he finished, Sharon was nodding in approval.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I am," Will was sure nothing could change his mind now.

"Okay then, I will talk to Dr Archer, and see how we can help," Goodwin bid Will the best, letting him continue on his way.

Will met Jay right outside your room, almost running straight into him.

"Will," Jay grabbed his brother's arm, "We need to talk about the rehab facility-"

"Yeah," Will nodded, "I know, i have a plan."

Will ushed Jay back into the room. He gestured to Jay to a chair and took a seat at the end of your bed. You were expecting him to stop by, sitting up properly on the bed expecting some kind of serious conversation from the eldest Halstead.

"What is it, doc?" You joked.

Will smiled, reaching out and holding your hand, "I have spoken to Dr Abrams and Sharon Goodwin and I have decided that we won't be trying to find a rehab facility."

Jay sighed, he had been arguing with Will about this for the better part of the week. "Will-"

"I think you should stay with me," Will told you directly, "I've taken a leave of absence, I think you should be home and recovering."

You looked to Jay, who was just as surprised. Jay hardly got caught off guard by Will, right now he had never been more surprised.

"Are you sure?" Jay broke the silence that settled over the room.

"If that is what you want?"

You could feel the joy blooming in your chest, a wide smile breaking across your face, "Yes. Please, yes."

Will mirrored your grin, pulling you into a tight hug and kissing your forehead. At times like this, you were reminded how much Will and Jay became like parents to you after your father's death. Although it was painful for all of you, you didn't have a good relationship with your father. He was never caring or affectionate, he never came to your sports games or awards, that was all Jay and Will. They stepped up and took care of you, they always have and promised they always would. You were so drained from the last few days of tests and the week in the hospital that you felt like you might burst into tears.

Will could sense your fragile state, staying sitting by your side and holding your hand. Jay got to his feet and pulled you into a hug too, then clapped Will on the back. 

“So when am I allowed out?” You pressed, hoping to be home and somewhere familiar. 

“Slow your roll,” Jay laughed, “There's still things that need to be organized.” 

You let out a loud dramatic sigh, “I hate it here,” You whined. 

Will wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him and playfully messing up your hair, “It won't be too much longer, promise.” 

“Pinky promise?” You raised your finger, dramatically pouting. 

Will indulged you, linking his pinky through yours and giving you a serious stare, “Pinky promise.”

taglist: @halstead-severide-fan

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Jay Halstead x Reader Oneshot

Synopsis: Jay and reader are together, and reader works at Med in ED with Will. Reader has a lot of anxiety because Jay is a cop, thinking every cop that is brought in may be Jay.

TW: anxiety/panic attacks is a main theme in this, also some mention of blood and doctor-y stuff because reader works at Med in ED

Requested by: @sorry-i-spaced

Thank you so much! This was fun to write!

Any other oneshot requests, please DM me! :)

“We got a Stevenson!” A paramedic called out as they rolled into the ED. You and several other doctors sprung into action, running toward where the paramedics were coming in. ‘Stevenson’ was the code name for a cop, to let Med know who it was, no matter if they were in uniform, plainclothes, or undercover.

“(Y/N)! Rhodes! Trauma three!” Maggie’s voice called from the desk. Working in the ED was no walk in the park, especially in the middle of Chicago. You made your way quickly to where Maggie pointed you, picking up the pace as they wheeled in a man who was surrounded by cops. You pushed through the crowd and into the room, seeing the man on the gurney with three bullet holes in him. You helped get him moved over, then assessed the damage, Dr. Rhodes right behind you to help.

“Three bullet wounds, center mass. I’m assuming this is the perpetrator, not our Stevenson?” You spoke out loud. Some of the officers outside the room confirmed your thoughts.

Your heart was already pumping from the adrenaline as you worked on the man, but you couldn’t help it as it beat faster, hoping the officer shot wasn’t Jay Halstead. It made you especially nervous when the officers outside the room talked amongst one another, saying the man shot was a detective. Bile started to rise in your throat, but you were pulled back by the monitors beeping rapidly. You took immediate action as you snapped out of your anxiety for just a few moments.

You finally stabilized the man enough to take him to surgery, letting the nurses and techs take him with Dr. Rhodes. You backed away, looking around the room at the mess that had been made. For a moment, you stood in silence, looking around at the blood and various instruments that were around the room, as well as the blood on your gloves and scrubs.

Blood. You saw it every day, and yet, you couldn’t help but get a nauseous at the sight. You thought maybe that detective, who was fighting for his life, was bleeding out. That maybe it was the man you loved. Maybe he was in the other room, clinging to life, and here you were, trying to save the man who shot him. The notion made you sick to your stomach. You ripped off your bloody gloves and left them in the room, quickly moving to the nearest bathroom to empty your stomach of your breakfast. You panted in between heaves, gripping the toilet for dear life as you trembled at the thought of Jay dying and you saving the man who killed him.

You and Jay had met through Will, one of your coworkers and closest friends at Chicago Med. Will and Jay were brothers, and both had taken a liking to you at first, but you ultimately decided that romance with a doctor at the same hospital as you would be too complicated. You never expected the anxiety that came with beings cop’s girlfriend, though. You’d been prone to anxiety in the past, but it ramped up when you started getting serious with Jay. You had episodes like this a lot, no matter what cop came in. It had never been Jay in the past, but it only took one bullet in the wrong spot for him to die.

When the nausea passed, you slowly pushed yourself to your feet, though still unsteady as your head spin. You flushed, washed your hands and face, then made your way to the locker rooms to change out of your scrubs and into a fresh pair. When you re-emerged, you were met with Will, who gently pulled you aside before anyone else could see you. “Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Will already knew the answer to that. He was the only one who knew the full story about these episodes you had at work. Although Jay knew some of it, especially about your anxiety, he didn’t know the full picture, and you’d sworn Will into secrecy over it.

“Will, it wasn’t him, was it?”

“No, (Y/N), Jay is fine. I talked to him just a little bit ago. He is investigating this with Intelligence. He might still be here. He was looking for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, but nodded. You were relieved, but needed to see for yourself. You walked with Will back to where he’d last seen Jay, your stomach settling down as you saw him standing with Detective Lindsay, talking to Maggie. You walked over, leaning on the counter with a hum beside him, hand reaching out to rest atop his on the counter.

Jay smiled when he saw you, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “Hey, was looking for you earlier. That perp going to make it?”

Instantly, your anxiety faded away, as if it was never there in the first place. Jay had that effect on you, especially when he was upright and acting like himself. “It’s touch and go, I think,” you said with a soft sigh. “We did what we could. Rhodes took him to surgery prolly about a half hour ago. If he does make it, it’ll be a hard and long road.”

Jay hummed and looked up at Will, who had taken a place behind the counter with Maggie. “And what about the detective?”

“He’ll make it,” Will replied. “Barring complications, he should be back on the job within a few weeks.”

“That’s good,” Jay replied, shifting his gaze back to you, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. “Hey, don’t look so down. We’ve got this.”

Your eyes met his, not realizing you’d looked upset. You smiled at him, nodding. “I know,” you replied. “It just must be hard that it’s one of your own, yaknow?”

“The risks we take,” he said with a small shrug. His statement was so nonchalant, which you didn’t like. You had to force yourself to focus on anything else to keep your rising anxiety at bay. Jay and Erin left soon after, and you shuddered, but moved back to work, checking on some other patients.

— —

“Stevenson incoming!” Maggie’s voice called out. You froze, looking up from the computer you had been typing at, swallowing hard. Your mouth ran dry, as stats were called by the paramedics. “Male, mid-thirties, stabbed multiple times.” You stood quickly, but Maggie didn’t assign you to it. You probably wouldn’t have been much help anyways, seeing as you were on the verge of an attack.

A firm hand was placed on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality as you gasped, looking behind you to see Will. “Come on,” he said softly, nodding to you. “It’s okay, come on.”

You let out a shaky breath, walking with Will out to the small break room. He got you coffee, which you took whether you liked it or not. It was something to pull you back into reality. “I-I’m sorry, I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Will said, shaking his head. “I get the same feeling every time, but Jay just texted me that we are meeting for lunch, so it can’t be him.”

“I shouldn’t feel so much relief from this,” you said, putting your hands to your face, wiping away some tears that had started to escape. “Someone is hurt, yaknow? But I… I’m so terrified of something happening.”

“Have you talked to anyone about this? Maybe Dr. Charles can help.”

“No, no,” you said, sighing heavily, sniffling and wiping your face. “I talked to therapists all throughout middle and high school. None of them even understood me. As far as I know, I’m just messed up mentally.”

“(Y/N),” Will sighed. “We’re all messed up mentally. We’re doctors.” He shook his head again, reaching over to put a hand on your arm. “Look, maybe you just need to find the right person. Besides, we know more about mental health and the brain now than we did then. There may be new tactics to help you cope, even if we can’t cure it.”

You were thankful for Will, nodding at his suggestions. “Maybe,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your face with your hands again, then coming back to down the coffee. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” he replied, nodding. “You’re not alone, alright?”

“Thanks,” you repeated. Just then, Will’s pager rang and he had to go, but he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head as he pulled you into a gentle embrace. As quick as he was beside you, he was gone, and you sank back down to the chair, looking at your empty coffee mug with despair. Maybe you’d never get better.

— —

The past few weeks had been filled with more and more scares. There was a serial killer on the loose who was targeting cops. Your body was racked with constant anxiety every time a Stevenson was brought into the ED. The only time you weren’t was when you were assisting with a surgery, so you stayed with Dr. Rhodes most of the time to ensure you were in surgery. It was better that way for the patients and for you.

The surgery you’d just assisted in finishing was a tough one. It was a kid who had fallen on a pair of scissors the wrong way. However, Dr. Rhodes was like magic, and your own hands remained calm and steady as you fell into a zen-like trance. You weren’t thinking of anything else but the surgery at hand. The anatomy and biology of the body lying below you. It was the only time and place you’d felt at peace, despite the circumstances surrounding the incident.

As you scrubbed out, washing your hands and arms, someone came into the room. “(Y/N)…” Will’s voice rang, a hand coming to your shoulder.

“Hey,” you said softly as you turned off the water and dried your hands. “What’s up?” Your mind was still calm, but when you looked up to Will, you could tell something was off.

“Don’t freak out on me, alright?”

“Will…?” You searched his face for the answer as he squeezed your shoulders with his hands.

“Just, promise.”

“Uh… I… okay…?”

“Okay,” he said with a sigh, knowing that was good enough. “Look, Jay was brought in, but-“

“What?!” You didn’t let him finish before trying to push past him to find Jay.

Will kept you in place. “No, no, (Y/N), stop, it’s okay.”

“This is NOT okay, Will! How are you so calm?!” The bile had begun to rise in your throat as you feared the worst. Tears jumped to your eyes and you had to see him. You had to know Jay was alright, even if he wasn’t.

“Hey, hey, look at me. It’s Will. Look at me!” You looked back up to Will, his hands squeezing your shoulders again to pull you back, shaking you a little. “Look, see, I’m right here. Let me finish before you break down, at least.”

You scoffed, a small scoff to hide the soft laugh of that last remark. Although you were on the verge of an attack, that pulled you back from the edge a bit, making you shake your head. “Just tell me then!”

“Jay just had a gash on his arm from a piece of metal he ran across. He just ran into a piece of metal. His sergeant sent him, just to make sure it was good. He is not shot. He is not hurt badly. He is coherent and walking around. He needed a few stitches, but that’s all.”

You searched Will’s face for any sign of him playing down the injury, but you knew Will wouldn’t lie to you. You let out a breath, wiping your face. “No, I still have to see him though because… if I don’t, I’ll never recover from this feeling.”

“I know,” Will replied. “Come on, he’s in five. But you know if you go in there like this, you’re going to have to come clean?”

“I need to see him,” you affirmed as Will walked you downstairs to where Jay was.

When you got there, you walked in and pushed the curtain back over the door to ensure you had privacy. You nearly broke down as you saw Jay, his shirt off, a bandage on his upper arm. Whether from anxiety or relief, you had no idea. The emotions pulling you in different directions was crippling, and you just stood there, trembling as tears streaked down your cheeks.

Jay looked over you as you stood, frozen in time, hot tears racing down and dripping off your chin. He got up quickly, his soft voice finally hitting your ears. “Hey, hey, (Y/N), what’s the matter?”

As he caught you between his arms, you started to sob, nearly collapsing into his chest. “Fuck, Jay!”

Jay was surprised, but caught you with ease, holding you close to his bare chest. “What did I do this time?” He teased, trying to make you feel better.

You were barely in the mood as you took a fist to his chest, hitting him softly. “Don’t even joke, it’s not fair!”

Jay turned more serious, pulling back to look at you as you sobbed. “Hey… hey, just tell me what’s going on.” You couldn’t muster any more words, wiping your face with your hands. Jay pulled you over, sitting on the bed and pulling you to sit beside him. “(Y/N)?”

“I have… I have this… this intense fear,” you finally spoke, soft words only coming out with your breaths. “This intense… burning fear… all the time… that…” You swallowed hard, leaning into his shoulder on his uninjured arm.

“That what?” Jay prompted after a moment of silence.

“That you’re going to come in here and die!” You sobbed out, moving to cling to him again, arms around his torso. “Jay, every time a cop comes in here, I can’t take it! Anxiety and panic takes me over! I-I can’t! I love you so much, and I can’t lose you!”

“Hey, hey baby, you won’t lose me. You won’t.” Jay held you tightly against his chest once again, kissing your head. “Hey, come here, look at me.” He pulled back, letting you sit up and then gently taking your chin in his fingers. He tenderly pulled your chin up, then leaned down to meet you, planting a soft kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he let out a breath. “Nothing will ever take me away from you… Nothing. Ever.”

With that, your emotions finally leveled out. You swallowed hard and reached up to cup his face, looking over his freckles. You smiled a little as your eyes met his. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he replied, matching your smile and leaning down to kiss you again.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Curtis Everett

Summary: Curtis decides to take the next step and ask if you're willing to meet offline.

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: None that I can tell. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 2

Curtis flops into his office chair after telling Steve to get Bucky back here. He should be upset because Bucky was wasting time getting a fancy coffee when he knew Curtis would be finishing up the code today. Instead, he takes the opportunity to grab his phone and chat with you.

Snowpiercer85: I hope you're having a better day today.

Unsurprisingly it takes a few minutes for you to respond.

HeartMonitor3000: better now that we're chatting.

Curtis feels his cheeks heat up.

Snow: Is that asshole student still on your floor?

Heart: sadly, yes. But at least we've only gotta deal with him for another month.

Snow: Oh?

Heart: that's when his rotation ends. a few of us are planning a small celebration once he's gone.

Curtis chuckles at that. He figures working as a nurse like you do is stressful enough but having some upstart med student whose parents made a big donation definitely made it worse.

Snow: By the way, been missing you on the server. Too tired to play?

Heart: no. I gotta get my computer fixed.

Snow: What's wrong with it?

Heart: I don't know, that's why I need to take it in.

Snow: You know I work in IT, right? What's going on with it?

Heart: the damn thing keeps freezing on me. I'll be in the middle of a game and suddenly everything just stops.

Snow: "Stops" as in "goes black"?

Heart: stops as in no sound, no mouse, no keys, nothing.

Curtis's heart leaps in his chest. This is an opportunity he's been looking for: a chance to meet you in person. He's wanted to meet you offline for months now but knows that it can be a touchy subject for a lot of reasons. He takes a few breaths to think about how to put it so he doesn't scare you off.

Snow: I've got some ideas what could be wrong but I'd need to look at it to be sure. Feel free to say "no" but, if you'd be willing to meet up at the library or something? Maybe even a park? Or the mall?

He tries to not take it to heart when you don't respond right away. You're a nurse. This is a potentially big deal. It's understandable you'd need time to answer him. Right? But after a few hours he's starting to lose hope and starts mentally berating himself for fucking things up. He's trying to work but he can't focus so he stuffs his phone into his pocket and goes for a walk around the building.

After a couple of laps he hears his phone ding. He checks and sees it's a message from you.

Heart: Tomorrow at the coffee shop across from the main library. 3PM.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! It's me Again! Firstly, I want to say thank you so much and I really enjoy/love it!

If it's okay to request could you do another part of this request (Elita One's twin sister w/ Sg Blackarachnia)?

The reactions/interactions of other Cons, Shockwave, Lockdown, Swindle (you can change/add Wasp or other cons, if you like);

Or reactions/interactions of Autobots (team Prime)?

(Takes place after reuniting with Optimus Prime, Autobots meeting Bot and their reactions/interactions to her)

also if it's okay to make a one of them as a separate request?

(Sorry if it's too much/complicated. Also take your time and thank you so much!)

She is back!!! Our Spider is back!!

I will be posting the second part to this request later on.

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister with SG! Blackarachnia's personality reaction to Shockwave, Lockdown, Swindle, and Wasp

SFW, Platonic, Hint of Romantic, Slight Angst, Cybertronian (techno organic) reader

TFA

As Megatron’s personal and only medic in the Decepticon army, Buddy sometimes had to travel where he went. From across the mountains to someone on the opposite end of the screen. That was how she got to know many mechs in the army.

“We are going out.”--Megatron

“We?”--Buddy

“You and I.”--Megatron

“Me? Sorry, not today My Lord. I have to work on the med bay.”--Buddy

“What needs to be done in the med bay?”--Megatron

“Not going to tell you because then you’re just going to get someone else to do it. And no one here can organize my stuff the right way. I was trying to fix Blitzwing’s servo, my tool kit was nowhere to be found. For about half an hour I was searching for it, and it was under your throne. Who puts stuff there?”—Buddy

“You have been stuck here for the last couple of cycles. I do think it is wise for you to get out and stretch your struts.”--Megatron

“You would love to see that wouldn’t you?”--Starscream

“Starscream!”--Megatron

“Wait what did he say?”--Buddy

“Nothing! We are going!���--Megatron

Megatron grabbing Buddy’s servo and leaving without a word.

When Buddy met Shockwave, it was through the main screen in the Decepticon HQ on Earth.

Shockwave had all her information from her Academy records. To say he was skeptical of Buddy’s position on the team was an understatement.

It wouldn’t be the first time the Decepticons would have a former Autobot change sides. No doubt Buddy would be the last one to do so either.

In this case, however, it nearly seemed too good to be true.

Shockwave going through going through Buddy’s file before the video meeting.

“Let’s see here… death certificates with no body found… former student at the Autobot Academy…several medical certifications, impressive… Special powers? Strange... Excellent marksmanship… Former protégé of some field tech, boring… Most likely to follow the Prime status? Unexpected but nothing more…what… had connections with Ultra Magnus?!”--Shockwave

It truly seemed too good to be true, but he kept quiet about his skepticism to himself. His first step was to get close to Buddy and try and get some information on them. Maybe find out if she is a mole or any potential blackmail material.

Shockwave was expecting someone sketchy trying to fill in the stereotypical Decepticon role or an Autobot with a poor, and or, offensive Con skit memorized.

Not someone who had their own unique style that would be associated with Decepticonism and who deeply cared for their comrades.

“Shockwave.”--Megatron

“Lord Megatron.”--Shockwave

“This is our newest chief medical officer on Earth, Buddy.”--Megatron

“Hello Shockwave, it is a pleasure to meet you.”--Buddy

“Erm—thank you Buddy, is it? Such a peculiar name.”--Shockwave

“Yes, it isn’t a common name or one that sparks any fear into the sparks of the enemy but, that is who I am. How has your day been?”--Buddy

“My what?”--Shockwave

“Oh, sorry was that not an appropriate question to ask?”--Buddy

“I—it has been a good day as of now.”--Shockwave

“That’s good to hear. We can’t have one of the Decepticon’s top spy’s in a rough shape can we?”--Buddy

“Top spy?”--Shockwave

“Yes! I have read a little bit about your work through the reports.”--Buddy

“You’ve read my reports?”--Shockwave

“You’ve read some of the reports?”--Megatron

“Of course! They are interesting to read. And it also doesn’t help when you leave some of the data pads out in the open My Lord. Especially around my work area.”--Buddy

“Don’t you have to go and reorganize the medbay’s newest supplies?”--Megatron

“Oh yes! Good-bye Shockwave! I do hope to get to know you better and that your work is truly—”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Megatron

“All right, all right I’m going. Bye!”--Buddy

Buddy walks out of the room.

“… She seems like a nice addition to the medical wing.”--Shockwave

“Yes…”--Megatron

“… I am not looking for a relationship now, My Megatron. Anyways Buddy is not my type.”--Shockwave

“…”--Megatron

Shockwave was left a bit confused after that interaction with Buddy. It only got worse once Buddy had willing gone to the screen to contact him.

“Hello Shockwave!”--Buddy

“Hello Buddy. Has something happened? This call was unscheduled.”--Shockwave

“I know but I wanted to talk to you.”--Buddy

“About what pray tell?”--Shockwave

“Anything.”--Buddy

“I’m not sure I am following…”--Shockwave

“Last call you seemed… well you seemed a little bit lonely. It cannot be easy keeping up the façade of being Longarm Prime all day, especially in front of the council, Ultra Magnus, and the entire Elite Guard.”--Buddy

“…It is not. But there are certain bots here that are a bit dimmer than the average bot. It makes things easier. One of the Prime’s has the IQ of a bag of rusty bolts.”--Shockwave

“Is that so? Ouch! Do tell more.”--Buddy

“I believe one of the Autobots are on to me.”--Shockwave

“Are you sure? Do you need back up or something?”—Buddy

“No, not at the moment.”--Shockwave

“Good, you can never be too safe.”--Buddy

“Yes…”--Shockwave

Shockwave was in denial of the friendship that was forming through those calls. He didn’t need friends talking to his audial all day long!

It’s not like he looked forward to having those talks with Buddy.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

It’s not like the two of them have swapped personal com lines to further talk about personal things and away from the prying optics of other Cons that entered the room.

It isn’t until one late night he realizes how deep he is in.

Longarm listening to yet another boring presentation with the other Primes, trying not to stab Sentinel’s big chin with a pen. His mind slowly wondering what Buddy is going to talk about this time when he tells them about Sentinel’s big chin.

He freezes.

Oh.

Oh no…

He has a friend.

He has a good friend now.

How does one keep a good friendship like this from falling into pieces in the face of a war?!

A little while later Shockwave starts searching up ‘Ways to keep good friend’ on Bing.

Blurr opening the door, giving Shockwave just enough time to go back into Longarm form.

“I know there is a spy here Longarm! I can feel it—what are you looking up?”--Blurr

“Umm… engex bottles.”--Longarm

“…”--Blurr

“…”—Longarm

“Oh really! What years are you looking at? I personally think—”—Blurr

Longarm/Shockwave sagging in a bit of relief from the scare.

Swindle and Lockdown met Buddy at a weapons meet.

Megatron had invited Buddy to meet his arms dealer and favorite mercenary, Swindle and Lockdown. Buddy didn’t get much information on the two, being that they were on the borderline sections of potentially ‘sell outs.’

“Lord Megatron, is there any more things I need to know about these two mechs?”--Buddy

“Lockdown will not speak out of line. He is more interested in getting the latest gadgets for his collections.”--Megatron

“Mod collector, got it. And this ‘Swindle’?”--Buddy

“Any price he tries to get you to buy is a terrible one. Leave the bargaining to me.”--Megatron

“And when you mean bargaining, you mean peacefully or using intimidation?”--Buddy

“Yes.”--Megatron

“You are impossible sometimes.”--Buddy

“Only for you.”--Megatron

“What?”--Buddy

“Here’s our stop.”--Megatron

Swindle had been told beforehand that Megatron was bringing someone else to meet him. The new medical chief, from what he understood.

He thought about displaying a couple more weapons for this new Con, maybe get them to buy something.

Swindle placing a big cannon on the table.

“That’s a bad idea Swindle.”--Lockdown

“Oh hush! You don’t know what he is like.”--Swindle

“First, she. Second, I did my homework.”--Lockdown

“But they could have a fascination in cannons once they see this beauty.”—Swindle

“Like I said, I did my homework. I heard around that the medic isn’t too found in weapons.”--Lockdown

“If that is true, then why would she even want to go to a weapons meet with Megatron?”--Swindle

“I don’t know—Speaking of which, look who’s here.”--Lockdown

Megatron landing on top of the platform with huge mechanical spider coming off of his back as they both transformed.

“I thought you said Earth spiders didn’t get that big!”--Swindle

“That’s the chief medical officer, numb nuts.”--Lockdown

The two Cons were not expecting Buddy.

Well, more Swindle, after all, Lockdown did do his homework.

Lockdown kept to himself while politely introducing himself to Buddy. She politely responded back with a small smile.

Swindle kept on showing the weapons to Megatron as the other two made small talk about modifications.

“Hey Buddy!”--Swindle

Lockdown mouthing ‘no’.

Megatron wondering what this was about.

Swindle wrapping an arm around Buddy.

Megatron’s optics are staring at it like it did a capital offense.

“What do you think of these bad boys? I’m sure that there is something here that has caught your attention.”--Swindle

“Oh? Sorry I’m just here to visit, I’m not interested in buying.”--Buddy

“Oh please, I’m sure we can work something out. You’re the new chief medical officer, right? How about I show you some of the tools I—”--Swindle

Lockdown coughing.

“Lockdown and I got at another exchange. Top notch and… and…”--Swindle

“Umm, Swindle are you feeling, okay? You’re looking a little bit queasy?”--Buddy

Swindle just now noticing the Death Glare Megatron was giving him, specifically at the arm still wrapped around Buddy’s frame.

Swindle quickly dropping it.

“How about this, Buddy. I give you these tools, for… free. For free, and you tell everyone at the base about the great deals you got here!”--Swindle

“I mean, I could—”--Buddy

“That’s wonderful! Here they are and here are the weapons you purchased Megatron!”—Swindle

Megatron still glaring but nodding.

“Oh! Okay, Bye Swindle and thank you for the tools. I’ll be sure to tell everyone back on base.”--Buddy

“Anytime Buddy!”--Swindle

“Good-bye Lockdown. I hope you have a good time finding those new mods!”--Buddy

“Much obliged Buddy, bye.”--Lockdown

Megatron and Buddy transforming, Buddy getting on Megatron’s back as he zooms out of there.

“… Did you soil yourself?”--Lockdown

“N-no!”--Swindle

Swindle brushed him aside and continued organizing his stuff in his chassis.

Lockdown just wondered if one day he might see Buddy again. It was nice to have someone else besides Swindle to talk to sometimes.

Buddy met Wasp under less pleasurable circumstances.

Buddy had been taking a break from the stuffy base one night and decided to take a walk on one of the islands nearby.

They had been walking around the area when they heard noises.

Like rapid little pede steps.

It couldn’t have been the Dinobots. Their steps were a kin to a mini earthquake.

It was someone else.

Quickly, she webbed herself to a nearby tree and watched.

A small green mech appeared from the brush.

He looked scared.

But what could have scared him?

Sure, Grimlock and the others were a bit much but if they were after the mech then Buddy would have heard them.

No, someone or something else was after the small guy.

“Wasp!”--Optimus

Buddy freezing.

“Wasp, I know you’re out there! Come out with your servos up!”--Sentinel

Wasp making more whinnying noises.

Buddy quickly snapped out of it and webs him up into the tree with her.

“Ah--”--Wasp

“Shh! Don’t scream, I’m here to help. But I can’t help you if you continue to scream, okay?”--Buddy

Wasp nodding slowly.

It was Optimus and Sentinel.

As much as Buddy wanted to know what was going on with both parties, her attention was on the shaky mech that looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

Wasp didn’t know what to think at that moment, but right now this bot was helping him get away from the Elite Guard so he decided to play along.

The Autobots suddenly came out of the brush.

Buddy and Wasp froze seeing them from their hiding place.

Wasp was already looking for a way out when he saw his savior start to shake.

At first, he thought it was out of anger and that they were going to pull out their weapon and start shooting up the place.

Until he saw her optics.

Big, wide, shaky, filled to the brim with fear.

He had seen those optics before. Those were his optics sometimes.

What had those Autobots had done to this Con to get a reaction like this?

Buddy thought that she had finally come to terms with everything that had happened, especially when Optimus showed up.

Seeing Sentinel there sent another wave of flashbacks her way. It was too much; it was too much. She knew that she should have been listening in on the conversation, it could drop some important information for the team.

But the flashes of Elita’s smile, Sentinel’s antics, and Optimus’s laughter filled her senses like no tomorrow.

Buddy was in such a shaky state she didn’t know it until the little green mech held her servo gently. Like one would do to their kid if something was scaring them.

He was trying to calm her down.

She slowly stopped the shaking as the Autobot’s left the area. After a bit more of waiting, the two climbed down the tree.

“Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that. I was the one trying to help you and you ended up helping me.”--Buddy

“Wasp is glad you okay. Nice lady bot scaring Wasp a bit.”--Wasp

“Again, sorry about that… Wasp? Is that your name?”--Buddy

“Yes. This is Wasp.”--Wasp

“Well, I’m Buddy. You have some scratches on you. I have a med kit with me, I can fix those up right now if you want.”--Buddy

Wasp looking at Buddy hesitantly before nodding.

Buddy getting to work.

“You are doing such a good job at staying still Wasp. Most of my patients like to move a lot. You’re doing so much better than they are right now.”--Buddy

“Wasp doing good job?”--Wasp

“Yes, yes you are Wasp.”--Buddy

“Buddy bot too nice to Wasp.”--Wasp

“No one can be too nice Wasp. It’s just that sometimes… sometimes empathy can get lost in wars like this.”--Buddy

“Wasp don’t like Autobots.”--Wasp

“I feel you Wasp…”--Buddy

“…Autobots hurt Buddy bot? Hurt Buddy bot bad?”--Wasp

“…Yeah, you could say that…”--Buddy

“…Autobots hurt Wasp too.”--Wasp

“I’m sorry to hear that Wasp…”--Buddy

“Wasp sorry for Buddy bot…”--Wasp

“Welp, I finished fixing those scratches and dents.”--Buddy

“Thank you!”--Wasp

“…Would you like to come with me to the Decepticons? That way you’d be safe from the Autobots.”--Buddy

Wasp pausing not sure what to answer.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer that right away. That’d be selfish of me to expect that from you right now. This is my private channel, if you need me, just call me.”--Buddy

Wasp in amazement simply nodding.

“You take care okay, Wasp.”--Buddy

“Bye Buddy bot!”--Wasp

[daflangstlairde-art]

attached, severed (you're here, you're not), word count: 4,763

Work 2 of DFL's Whumptober 2024

Summary:

The Technodrome never wanted to let Donnie go of its own volition. Krang One quite literally had to pull him out. Something terrible lingers, not quite gone. (Alternatively, The Prison Dimension never wanted to let Leo go of its own volition. Mikey quite literally had to pull him out. Something terrible lingers, not quite gone.)

Okay, so, everything was a little woozy. Leo would be right back on his feet, like, tomorrow at most—sure, Krang One beat up pretty solid, after they’d already had a whole big time fighting, but they're tough! Mutants, huh? Couple of bruises, couple of strains, that sort of thing. Some cracks along his carapace, yeah, yeah, nothing lethal. 

But he was still bed-bound, mostly due to his fam’s worries. He didn't wanna worry them, because he will be okay, he was fine. It was really a very small price to pay for, y'know, saving the entire world. Heroes simply do this kinda thing. It's what they do. 

Anyway, point was: Leo was on pain meds and maybe kinda had just a little concussion. Just a tiny bit. 

So. He was dozing off. The lights in med bay were pleasantly low, and the beeping of the heart monitor and Donnie’s tapping around on his tech were pretty soothing. 

Leo was just focusing on resting. Feeling the way his plastron would gently rise and fall, as the air passed through his nostrils and throat and lungs and abdomen. Yeah, okay, the sensation had to pass through some obstacles, like bruised ribs or a bruised throat, but really, it was okay. Considering everything, it was okay. The bruises were already halfway faded after just a day or two of resting. Or however long it’s been. Not like he was all that conscious for it.

He still had all four limbs. He still had all three brothers alive. Earth kept spinning. Leo kept breathing in the faint smell of antiseptic and bandages. 

So, he didn't really care for a random tap-tap-beep from somewhere off to the side. Donnie was just moving around quietly, doing whatever Donnie did. It was sweet, the way he also fussed. Heck, Leo heard him shoo Mikey and Raph away to go make dinner. 

Leo’s eyes were closed, but he sorta just sensed the presence of his twin approach. Probably to fuss over him more, haha. Man was Leo lucky to have brothers who love him so much. Even when he was being a bit of a dunce. 

He loved them so much. So, so much. It was so much bigger than some bruises and sprains and whatnot. 

He swallowed and oh, he should drink some water. Tried to crack his eyes open. His eyelids stuck, and when they finally gave way to vision, they were heavy. Leo breathed. He blinked lightly, to clear up his sight. 

“Hey,” he said, voice a bit raspy, to the sight of his twin standing over him. Couldn't help but smile up at him. 

...

Donnie was... looking at him weird. A kind of... stare. Kinda like the way your sleep paralysis shadow man stares at you at 3 a.m. haha.

“Wha’s with th’ look?” Leo huffed in amusement. “Got somethin’ on m’ face?” 

Donnie stared. 

He wasn't... really saying anything. Or reacting. Ooor doing anything except keep his hands to his sides. That couldn't be good.

Leo’s mood wilted a little. 

Y'know, it’s fair, it made sense, that Donnie would be mad at him, actually. Or otherwise upset. Leo did kinda cause a whole apocalyptic event... and then almost got himself killed too... and right after he'd given Donnie the chance of a lifetime—to control a spaceship! Probably totally rained on his parade. Leo should ask him how that went later. He was sure it must've been totally badass. 

Maybe asking him now would help his mood...? It was understandable that everyone would be feeling... complicated, after the Krang stuff. But Leo wanted to make them feel happy. He wanted to help them as much as he could. 

“Hey you–” Leo started, and then blinked, trying to catch up with– okay, Donnie’s hand was at his throat. Alright. Maybe that's what he was concerned about. Him and Mikey did watch Leo get a little strangled and almost killed by the Krang-controlled-Raph, yikes. 

Leo tried to make his smile soft and reassuring as best as he could. 

“Hey, I’m alright,” he placated his twin. “I really am, I knew Raph wouldn't actually–” okay, well, he didn't know know, but he had hopes– 

–Donnie’s hands circled his throat. When Leo swallowed, he felt the tight press of it against his brother’s palms. 

“Pretty sure my throat is structurally sound, Dee, you don't have to check,” he joked, voice rasping. He just needed to drink some water. “Hey, can you–”

Donnie squeezed. 

“Okay, okay, keep your water, yeesh!” Leo reacted, sounding appropriately strangled. Except–

Except Donnie started squeezing much harder, and, okay, that was actually hurting–

“Donnie, hey–” Leo tried to speak around his constricted airway, hands lifting, placing them at Donnie’s wrists. “Bro, chill, loosen up a lit–” his words cut off entirely from the pressure, and okay, okay. Uh. 

Donnie was positively gripping his throat now, zero mercy. And sure, Leo could hold his breath for a hot minute, maybe a dozen or two, but his throat was bruised. And the sensation of the walls of his airway pressing against each other and the harsh jab of his larynx and–

Leo’s throat reflexively started spasming, and he gripped Donnie’s wrists in return, legs curling under the blanket. The pressure building in his head. 

Leo tried to jam his fingers between Donnie’s hands and his throat, the way he did with the Krang tentacle thing Raph used. To get just those precious few moments of air, to talk, because it worked with Raph, it had to work now–

But, well, Donnie isn't the Krang. Donnie is smarter. Donnie knows Leo’s affinity for blabbing and with the pressure pressure pressure at his throat, he was giving Leo zero leeway. 

Leo couldn't even yell for help. 

Instead, Leo’s jaw worked soundlessly, popped open with the building pressure, the pressure. It felt like his eyes were going to burst from his skull, and he was choking, now. Lungs spasming, the bottom of his throat convulsing and gurgling. Feet kicking uselessly, tangled under the blanket. 

Leo’s hands were weakly thumping against Donnie’s arms, desperate but never, never hard enough to actually hurt his brother. He was slamming his heels into the gurney to make noise, scrabbling for anything, he didn't have his panic button, anything to grab onto, anything to do, he can't BREATHE–

Lungs convulsing, straining, aching–

“You don't get to escape that easily, little pest,” Donnie spat–

There was drool sliding down Leo’s chin now and hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. And he stared up, up into Donnie’s cold eyes, and past the confusion, he tried to plead, Donnie, Donnie it's me, it's Leo, Donnie it’s okay, please just calm down, you're hurting me bro– 

—

After all the stress of the Invasion, Raph only felt a little ridiculous when he finally BUSTEDthat door open. He’d just– he heard the heart monitor! And it was way too fast! Leo could be freaking out after a– a nightmare or something! Who the heck locked the med bay door anyway?! It was usually with a sensor, automatically opening when someone passed, why did someone need to lock–!

And at once, all that sheepishness was blasted away through the sight that greeted him.

In two strides Raph was by Donnie, grappling him and wrenching him away from Leo. 

Leo, who immediately gasped for air like he hasn't breathed in a week. But it was too thin, too weak. Immediately, Raph heard him start choking and coughing and spluttering. 

Meanwhile, Donnie broke away from his stupor, still in Raph’s tight hold. He didn't waste a moment to start thrashing and snarling and biting! To the point where Raph was struggling to hold him! Especially ‘cause he didn't wanna accidentally hurt Donnie! The guy still had his entire torso BANDAGED!!! 

(Raph’s had enough of hurting his family for a lifetime.)

“Donnie!” Raph cried, “Don, chill! What the heck is goin’ on–?!” sure, the twins bickered, but all of them bickered! It was never like this! 

“Let me go you PARASITE–” Donnie sneered at him, and, what??? What?! 

Leo was still gasping and choking, and, and– a-and Raph couldn't handle this on his own, he, he–

“MIKEY!” Raph yelled, “DAD! HELP! SOMETHIN’ IS GOING ON A-AND RAPH CAN'T–” 

Donnie fighting in his arms, clawing at his arms, Leo’s awful awful desperate gasps–

—

“Hold him, Raph!” Mikey’s voice raised against his will, “I think– I think he's infected–!” his hands (hurting, trembling, swathed in bandages) hovered uselessly. 

“INFECTED–?!” Raph’s voice cracked, still wrangling the feral Donnie.

“How?” Splinter’s head snapped towards them. He was taking care of calming Leo down, and the beeping of the heart monitor was still too fast.

“From the ship!” Mikey exclaimed. “It makes the most sense!” right??? Right?! 

Leo, in the middle of coughing and gasping, turned to gape at him. 

Oh. Right. They hadn't told Leo about the ship yet. 

...MORE IMPORTANT THINGS! 

Raph yelped as Donnie finally bit down on his forearm. And Mikey practically saw the word INFECTED slam in Raph’s poor panicking brain, and he wrenched his arm away–

No, no, no– 

Don't panic Mikey, THINK. 

He yanked open a cupboard and then a second and a third–

“DAD!” Mikey yelled because his hands, they were useless right now, he couldn't do it himself–! 

“To me!” Splinter exclaimed and Mikey tossed him the syringe and the bottle. 

“YOU CANNOT DEFEAT THE KRANG, WE ARE INFINITE–” 

And in a few swift moves Donnie collapsed, knocked out by the tranquilizer liquid thingie. 

Splinter drew the needle out of his neck in order to catch him, so he didn't crack his skull on the floor.

They all, collectively, sagged in relief. Heavy breathing filling the room. The loudest of which was Leo’s, labored and struggling. Raph held his arm, where a little bit of blood trickled. 

“O...kaayy,” Splinter drew out. Cleared his throat. “Good thinking, Orange. Uh. Do weee... have... a second bed maybbeeee–?” 

Raph sighed, already moving. “I’ll get it–” 

“Uh, you're bleeding and might be infected, I’ll get it,” Mikey snarked. 

“...Mike, your hands–” Raph hesitated. 

“Can handle a bed on wheels, Raph,” Mikey deadpanned. And then softened up a little, “Do us all a favor and take care of that dang wound,” 

“Yes,” Splinter agrees. “We don't want a second case of this,” 

Or third, rather, but Mikey prided himself on being emotionally intelligent, so he kept that comment buried deep, deep down, and moved along to bring out the second hospital bed. 

—

Donnie is... well. April supposed his reaction was fair enough. 

She’s the one that took charge of driving while the others took care of each other in the back, so she couldn't see that much of it. But she saw enough. 

While she was... okay, sore and sticky with sweat and tired as hell, and probably gonna bruise ugly; she was, objectively, not that bad compared to some others in their group. She was a human, sure, but she knew how to take care of herself, and Splints and Casey Two really helped. They themselves were about in the same boat as her.

The guys? Yeah, they were mutants or whatever, but man. 

Raph’s eye was jacked up, and there was a whole hole in his shell, and his left hand was shaking. Mikey’s both hands were crawling with some worrying mystic nonsense, and through his manic-delighted laughter, she'd caught something about a portal. Leo was... well. Leo, apparently, cracked a quip and dropped unconscious. April thought that spoke volumes about his current state. It ain't easy to knock these thick-headed turtles out.

Donnie’s right hand was also shaking. That was the least concerning part about him. 

His back was... eugh, Casey was taking care of it in the back while April kept her eyes on the road. But she'd seen it for a few moments, when the construct of his battle shell dissipated to make way for treatment. 

It was bad. 

So bad. It was gross. Skin pulled and stretched and torn, like the worst amalgamation of flaccid stretch marks and bloody cuts. Like prosciutto made of dead flesh. April has never seen skin be torn by being pulled apart. Like ripped fabric, but all loose and mangled and eugh. That stuff only happens in horror movies!!! 

She shuddered, clenching her jaw. Trying hard not to gag, because it would not help. Stay strong, O’Neil. 

Maybe it would've been better if Donnie acted normal. And he did! ...For a few moments. After they'd (apparently, somehow, they hadn't shared the details yet) saved Leo, and informed everyone else about this through the comms, Donnie sounded fine! He sounded just as vibrant and relieved and elated as everyone else! 

But in the few minutes it took for Sister Squad to free the Turtle Tank and drive it to Staten Island to pick ‘em up... 

Maybe it was an adrenaline crash. She turned the wheel again, waited for the garage door to open. Entered into the Lair. 

Maybe it was just a simple adrenaline crash. Everyone was visibly exhausted. Raph was swaying on his feet and Mikey was trembling and Splinter was basically limping. 

“Commander–”

“Got it,” April immediately joined Casey’s side to help him lift Leo. He needed a lot more than just emergency first aid, though he seemed stable. “Dee, wanna–” she turned to ask–

Donnie... just stared. 

He just stared. 

This. This is what was worrying her. 

Maybe it was an adrenaline crash. Maybe a shutdown. Maybe processing everything was just too much for him at the moment. 

She was trying really hard to not judge how he was just staring. 

At Leo. 

“...Ooor not, nevermind,” April said quietly. 

Maybe... maybe it was grief. Or something. They did have that whole “twin” thing after all. So. 

“Casey, uh–” April turned back to the guy as they started moving Leo to med bay. “Donnie...?” 

“Not great, but he'll live,” Casey said quietly, picking up where she trailed off. “There was leftover matter, but I couldn't tell if it was dead Donnie flesh bits or dead Krang flesh bits. Just... a lot of dead flesh,”

April shuddered. Gross. Casey, however, kept speaking like the grossness of it didn’t affect him.

“I had to wrap him quickly to stop the bleeding, but I think I’ll need to cut off more of that skin, he'll definitely need stitches in some places but hopefully no grafting–” he spoke briskly, getting onto the task of filling her in on everyone’s condition. As they brought Leo in to med bay, she prepared herself to assist Future Boy with medical treatment. 

Thank fuck for Casey Jones, huh? They always seemed to save the situ at the most critical times. Bless.

They started hooking Leo to an IV drip and a heart monitor and stabilizing him, a flurry of movement. April doing her best to follow through on whatever instructions Casey handed out—man, he was definitely experienced with this, the way he worked fast but efficient and calm. 

And to her even bigger relief, Donnie joined in. He seemed to be in a daze, disoriented maybe, but he started pulling up scanners and data on some monitors in the room. 

His hands kept... kinda lagging. His face remained... well. Well. It's like his face simply wasn't a part of the rest of his system, just slapped on top. 

But, well. He was helping them. So. 

Maybe it was okay. 

...April would just... pull him aside, once Casey’s done with him too. Donnie was definitely not in a talking mood right now, but leading him through some grounding, maybe some comfort, it might help. Get him to drink water, get his headphones on, that sort of thing. 

Oh, and then she should also do that for the rest of the fam too. 

With an action plan in mind, April O’Neil focused on the task at hand.

—

There was something wrong with Leo, Donnie was sure of it. And he was sure it happened while he was in the Prison Dimension. 

He just didn't know what. 

It was fine mere moments ago! It was fine during his altercation with Raph dearest! It was fine. 

It was not fine anymore. 

But no matter how much Donnie stared at Leo, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He didn't stop staring at Leo’s prone form in the Tank, in fact. And all he had as proof at the moment was this wriggling, invasive pulse of something's wrong, something's wrong, something is seriously wrong.

Something was so, so wrong with his brother. 

Donnie couldn't help but feel a... revulsion, looking at him. Something that made him curl his hands into fists, nails pressing in. 

He felt like if he stopped looking at Leo for even a smidge of a moment, he would... he would... he didn't know. Donnie didn't know. And he hated it. 

He felt like Leo would snap up and lunge at him. Or their brothers. He felt like Leo would die on the spot. He felt like– he didn't know. 

All he could do was stare. 

He didn't register anything else. It was only this. It was only this. 

Buried in his shell, this bone-deep conviction that something was disgustingly wrong, and the moment he took his eyes off of Leo, it would all surface with a bang. 

He wanted–

He needed–

Donnie needed to know. 

So he stared. He watched, he observed, he waited. 

When they brought Leo home, he took advantage of the moment. While O’Neil and Jones took care of the... remnants of violence on Leonardo, Donnie did one of the things he did best: he collected data. 

It was simple: just a scan whilst the other two hurriedly patched up wounds. And when that scan showed nothing out of the ordinary—a second one. And when that yielded no more results—a third one. 

And when Leo’s injuries were taken care of, when everyone’s injuries were taken care of–

(Skin flesh living snipping away from his back–

No, no, no, they would live. They would live, they would triumph.)

–Donnie simply sat and watched. 

For a bit, Raphael and Michelangelo and the rest were with him. For a bit, everyone took care of each other. Then–

Oh who cares?! 

It was waiting, it was injuries, it didn't matter. None of it mattered! It all fell into a blur. 

Until, finally, finally. 

Donatello knew. 

It was as easy as locking the medical bay’s entrance. It was as easy as a few steps to his “brother”’s body, laying on the hospital bed, bruised and cut and ruined and wrong wrong wrong. 

That was not Leonardo. 

Donatello knew. It. 

He knew it the way he knew his own heartbeat. 

That... thing, inside that body, was not his brother. 

He saw it. He saw its true nature, the way its skin wriggled. Tendrils under the surface, eating away at the insides and taking their place.

It was something so ugly, so heinous, so repugnant that it was difficult for the mind to conceptualize and therefore circled right back around to awe-inspiring. 

It was as easy as his hands around its disgusting little throat. 

It spoke to him in his brother’s voice, the wretched thing. How dare, how dare it use his brother’s voice, his smile. 

Donatello wanted to rip it apart. It was a nuisance, a parasite, a pest. Lowly and disgusting and undeserving of its breath HOW DARE IT BE FREE HOW DARE IT LIVE–

—

Donnie woke up sore and dazed. 

“Wh... huh...?” he muttered, swallowing dry, trying to blink for the sake of his vision clearing. What... did he fall asleep...? 

He lifted his arm to–

He– couldn't lift his arm. Huh. That's... odd...

Donnie blinked, everything a bit blurry at the edges. A little cotton-y. He felt a bit nauseated, to be quite frank. Not a pleasant thing to wake up to. 

There was... noise. Speech. Somebody was saying something. To him. 

“What...” he muttered again, lifting his arm– nope. Right. Right right right, he... couldn't do that. Hm. 

Did he get kidnapped by the government? 

...Mmm, no, no. There was the beeping of a heart monitor, the smell of antiseptic, yes. But he's always had sensitive senses. Beyond that, he could hear... papá’s shows? Breathing in the same room, as well. He could smell home. Raph was here. 

Raph smelled like... hm. Something sharp, tangy, sort of unstable. But warm. 

Worry, concern? Perhaps hesitation? Meh, Donnie has never been good at parsing emotions. 

“Donnie? ...You with us?” floated in his older brother’s voice.

“Mm,” Donnie affirmed, trying to look around more properly. Yes, the medical bay. Yes, Raph, alongside Mikey. 

...Hm. That's... odd. Why was Donnie strapped down on a gurney, exactly? 

“Wha...” he vocalized, staring down at the restraints. He didn't even know they had those. Maybe The Fam simply used a couple of belts. 

“Heeeyyy buuuddd, how... are you feeling?” Raph approached, with a careful smile.

“Confused, disoriented even,” Donnie stated. “Uh. Nauseated. Do I... do I have a concussion?” he tried blinking, squinting.

“...You could... say that,” Raph said, trying to be gentle in an off-putting manner.

“Boy you were infected!” Mikey delicately informed him and–

And.

Donnie’s brain blue-screened as it loaded the history of what he'd done.

Oh, dear Cain. 

What has he done? 

The way he’d stared at and spoken to Leo, contemptuous, inimical, disgusted. Murderous. 

The way his palms had wrapped around his very own twin’s already bruised throat, feeling the fragile pulse under, the pulse he’d scrambled to preserve. Head deluded by thoughts and visions of parasites, of wriggling little things under the skin, hidden and revolting and deadly. 

The way he’d squeezed–

A single tear rolled down his face, soaking into the bed sheet of the gurney. 

“BUT WE FIXED IT!” Raph was quick to exclaim, worry cranked right up at Donnie’s absolute stupor, the horror no doubt glinting off the whites of his eyes. “We, we–!”

“CJ and Barry cut it all off!!! You're totally clean, Dee!” Mikey attempted with increased cheer. 

But all Donnie could think was no, no, no, how could he do this? Is this how Raph felt? How could this happen? 

What had he done? 

“Donnie, hey, hey, it's okay, you gotta breathe,” Raph reached out a hand, forehead scrunched in anxiety. Donnie flinched back, but it's like it wasn't him. He could hear the rapid alarm of his electrocardiogram, but he could not connect it to the existence of the heart beating within his ribcage.

It's like he wasn't himself. 

How could he possibly recognize if he's not himself? 

His older brother was talking to him, but it was all static, it was all ringing. It was sinking into a squirming-squelching-living nightmare, repugnant and alive and all-encompassing oh unholy Lorecraft– 

Shouts, a clattering– 

Red and green turned away from his face, and, and– 

Replaced by green and red and blue, blue, blue. Standing over him, smiling. Green skin and red markings, white eyes and red bruises, blue mask, blue bruises, colors of the flesh of the flesh the flesh– 

“Heeyyy bro,” a jarring moment, a smile, how could he be smiling? “Wanna help me calm down real quick? I’m feeling a lil’ panicky here,” 

Something inside Donnie reached out, fell into line at that. His hand shot up–

–no, it didn't, they were restrained, the hands he'd used to– 

Lighter green. Unlatching the restraints.

“Leo–!”

“You said he's fine now, so chiiilll it's fiiine! Donnie would never hurt me,” 

Donatello never would, but how could he possibly be sure he’s Donatello? 

Hand freed. He jerks them back close to himself, pushed himself away. 

“Hey, hey, naw don't do that, or I might get sad,” pouting, silly, like it's all fine and not horror-inducing. “Mikey, could you get a glass of water, and Raph– yeah the blanket–” 

“His headphones too–?”

“Oh great idea, yeah, totes– Dee? Donnie-dee? Wanna show me how to breathe, huh? I can't get my numbers straight,” Leo’s eyes back to him, smiling, smiling. 

The image of his beatific smile as Donnie’s hands strangled him to death– 

The way he’d smiled at Raph as he was being STRANGLED TO DEATH–

Why was he SMILING?! 

There was something wrapped around Donnie’s lungs and squeezing, and his brain screamed KRANG KRANG KRANG–

“Donnie, focus on me,” Leo snapped his fingers in front of his face and Donnie wanted to bite him, Leo knew how much that irritated him–!

Wait, why the flippity pancakes was Leo OUT OF BED?! 

The panic, jittery and sharp and ringing, was suddenly replaced by anger, jittery and sharp and ringing.

“Why,” Donnie hissed, and his suddenly narrowed focus picked up on Mikey stiffening several feet away. Leo, smiling, calm, subtly moved to cover it. 

“Why wh–”

“WHY ARE YOU OUT OF BED.” Donnie seethed, high-pitched, hands on Leo’s shoulders. Shaking him a bit. Leo was smiling and it felt surreal.

Leo was smiling the entire time Donnie was strangling him to death. 

Leonardo, his beaten and bruised brother, his brother wrapped in bandages– the idiot, he must've torn something getting up to reach Donnie because he was bleeding through said bandages–

Leonardo, his brother who’d dished out serene reassurances before throwing himself into a death trap– 

–was just smiling at him. 

God, he hadn’t even fought back. 

He didn't even fight back. 

“Why didn't you fight back?” Donnie’s voice broke over whatever Leo had been saying. “Why, why did you– I-I w-was going to kill you–” horror, oh horror. 

“What?” Leo blinked, and he turned as Raph walked back in, yet Donnie had mind only for one thing and it was his stupid, stupid twin. 

“Why didn't you fight back? Leo, why didn't you do anything?” Donnie spoke in desperation. He needed to know. It would ruin him, but he needed it. Just like the stream of information from Technodrome, the knowledge was cursed and horrifying, and yet he needed to know. “I could have killed you are you listening to me? Leonardo you could have DIED–” 

“Hey,” Leo, bleeding, supposed to be resting, smiling, was putting a weighted blanket over Donnie’s shoulders. He offered Donnie his noise-canceling headphones, and Mikey was finally handing over that water he’s been holding for minutes now, hands shaking. Leo was looking him in the eyes, and saying “It wasn't your fault, bro,”

Donnie stared back at him, shaking with the shock of– of– frankly? Of everything. There was a parasite in his brain, apparently, right after the Invasion, so it was all crashing on top of him in the worst way possible. 

“Took you guys long enough,” Leo had said, had smiled and laughed and hugged them, like it was fine, but it wasn't, it. Wasn’t. 

There was absolutely no conceivable way for Leo to have known Mikey could rip apart reality itself. There was no conceivable way he’d known there was any way out. 

And the Krang were hateful, hateful things. Donnie would know. 

So Donnie stared at his twin, smiling and saying something to Mikey that made their little brother crack a laugh. Donnie held a glass of water in one hand and noise-canceling headphones in the other, given to him by his twin Leonardo, Leonardo whom he’d strangled with those very hands. 

“I’m so sorry,” broke out of Donnie, crushed and angry and disbelieving and sad and loving and grieving and ecstatic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” Leo said, easy, “Hey, it’s okay, it wasn't your fault,” he opened his arms and Donnie put the items aside to drag Leo into a hug. Leo oofed and laughed, and a tension dropped from Raph’s shoulders as well. 

“You're okay Marsh-Tello,” Leo said, teasing and lighthearted, rubbing the back of Donnie’s neck instead of his bandaged shell. “It wasn't your fault, mkay? It was those big dumb aliens, and we got it all off. It wasn't your fault,” he reassured Donnie, Donnie, as if Leo wasn't the hurt one, as if Leo wasn't the one who’d nearly died several times. What a moron, apparently caring for others even at the end of his own rope, what a dummy. 

Donnie just shook his head, holding the idiot closer. He reminded himself to not hold him too closely, because Leo was still littered with injuries, including cracks in his shell and his inner ribs. And now Donnie knew, if he wasn't careful, Leo wouldn't even eek in pain about it. 

His twin. His idiot. Gah.

Donnie squeezed his eyes shut and held him close. 

[real-raincode-takes]

jobs I think the cast would have if they weren’t detectives:

-yuma: author. he has some gripping monologues, and detective novels are one of his likes. with how prone to trouble he is, he’d have a lot of good situations to draw from to write stuff

-shinigami: housewife. but she’d sell illegally harvested corpses to med students on the side to make $$$

-yakou: he’d probably stay at the bar but that’s lame. maybe like a firefighter cause he loves helping people and he’d think it would help him win ladies (it does)

-fubuki: adventurer!!!!!! she was also so good as a waitress. she would love the rainforest café or some sort of themed restaurant

-halara: a vet. I think they could tolerate injured animals because they wanna help them. and that pays good enough for their tastes

-desuhiko: business major who becomes a salaryman. still plays music on the side, but it’s been hard to get gigs since the allegations….

-vivia: barista. librarian. something low effort. does in fact regularly fight in underground rings and one of his coworkers sees him but no one else believes them

-aphex: 🏀🏀🏀🏀

-zilch (real): some sort of wildlife preserve or zoo thing

-zilch (fake): CEO of animal testing and cruelty

-pucci: unemployed. she gets into discourse on tumblr and TikTok all day and lives like Portland polycule. okay fine she’d be a classical musician

-melami: model! I could see her posing for a tanning mag or some harajuku stuff

-zange: retired, part time grocery store clerk who always regales you with excessively long stories and complains about the high tech self checkout

.

[elslittlestories]

Modern AU!

Just a quick thingy I did a few weeks ago cause I wanted to draw the bad batch as if I could walk past them in the street 🤪

Rambling about it under the cut ⬇️

Crosshair. Always three steps behind so he can pretend he's not with them but if anyone tries to mess with his brothers, they won't know what's coming 🤜💢 He's a neat freak, his white shirts are always pristine ✨

Echo has prosthetic legs but doesn't alway wear them. 🦽 I gave him an audio implant in place of his neural headpiece, because why not? And he's wearing Fives' dog tags 🥺

Wrecker is your classic gym bro 💪 and rocks the pink t-shirt like no one. He tends to wear his dog tags apparent because people react differently to his scare and blind eye when he does so. He's Echo's designated driver. He knows every good spots for food take away!

Hunter is either wearing a flannel or a plain t-shirt. Nothing fancy. You rarely see him without a backpack or satchel or anything to carry around the important stuff no one else think about, like water and snacks and a med kit. He makes dad jokes. Bad ones.

Tech wears anything that fits and doesn't smell too bad. As long as it's got pockets for all his stuff: various tools and pieces for his current project, external battery, flash drives and who knows what more... He got himself some connected glasses that he's improved, so most of the time he's looking at the stuff in his goggles rather than the actual world around him.

[otaku553]

Ok a few questions...

1st - the little reaction character you draw for every ask is so cute have u learnt to draw or just an amateur? I mean I hardly am able to draw such quick sketches my work takes days to complete

2nd - your major is so much superior and brainy it hurts my brain ( as a med student I find tech people really brainy) and currently I am trying to do some research on Ai in med how shd I approach that ? At an under grad level where I am hardly having any independent clinical practice and any good knowledge on Ai? I mean I do try studying it but I won't ever be at par with proper Ai studies at tech institutes. Pls help.

1) As you might have guessed from my STEM academic background, art is mostly a hobby for me and I’ve never actually been professionally trained or taken lessons for it :) most of what I know comes from YouTube videos and books and stuff, accumulated over,,,,, I think 13 years now of drawing?? I’m lucky my parents really encouraged me to draw and kept nurturing that interest in me when I was young, haha

These quick sketches are actually all done on my notes app and are only so quick because going fast was the only way to get the nice line weight I wanted so I trained it up so I could do these in a minute or less :) if you dig up my oldest ask response doodles though you can definitely see where I started from haha

2) If you’re looking into the basics of machine learning theory at the undergrad level, Caltech has the entire introductory course available for free on YouTube! I don’t know if it’s the best way to learn but it’s pretty alright from what I remember? What you need will depends a lot on the scope of what research you’re doing, I think. AI in the loosest sense is a thing of data organization and prediction based on some funky math stuff. If you need help actually implementing it you might need some other online tutorial but since most of these models are already prebuilt on things like PyTorch and matlab you generally don’t actually need to thoroughly know the math background for it I think. (I think especially matlab has nice documentation so it’s especially easy to do your first implementation of models there but uhh take that with a grain of salt)

Otherwise, if you’re specifically researching the ways it interfaces with medicine, I’d recommend going to Google scholar and searching up academic journals and articles about it. If the jargon is a bit much, you can look up articles elsewhere like in the general news and then look at the articles from there. If you have a mentor for research, as well, I would definitely recommend asking them for literature to review. Happy researching!

[dangraccoon]

Catching Up

Day 9 ~ bruises ~

Wrecker

Word Count: 739 Content: sedative, bruises, bacta, talking to the dead, Tech's goggles, mentions of and references to Plan 99 and Tech's death, grief, Wrecker being the glue that holds Hunter together between season 2 and 3

In his entire life, Wrecker had never felt so alone, yet it was rare that he found time to himself. He’d sat so still on his bunk for so long after Hunter had fallen asleep just making sure he’d be okay and stay asleep. 

His oldest brother hadn’t slept for nearly a week, and after two days of reasoning, arguing, nagging, and–eventually–begging, Hunter had agreed to take a sedative. 

He slowly eased himself from the bunk, cringing as it creaked beneath him, but Hunter didn’t stir. Wrecker sighed his relief as he stepped as quietly as he could out of the bunkroom.

He walked up to check on the NaviComputer. Finding it was alright and nothing needed to be adjusted, he wandered somewhat aimlessly around the ship. 

He pulled out their med kit. It was still disorganized from the last time they’d needed it. He still wasn’t used to it; Omega always straightened it out any time they used it. He organized it, placing each item in its place again. The last item was a tub of bacta gel. 

Setting the kit aside, Wrecker took the gel to the refresher. He took a deep breath, staring at himself in the mirror as he pulled his shirt off. Bruises practically covered him, various purples, greens, and yellows blotting out most of his rough, scarred skin.

He winced as he poked at a particularly dark one, then opened the tub, and started to apply it to the worst of them. He remembered each one. 

The particularly angry bounty hunter that threw Hunter, and how he’d caught him just before they both stumbled over a ledge. The cave ceiling he’d held up until Hunter could slip out. The old base full of B1s that hadn’t gotten the memo about the end of the war. 

By the time he’d smoothed a thin layer over them, he could feel the medicine working, and could feel the side effects washing over him. Wrecker was tired. Usually, when he fell asleep, Hunter would monitor the comms channels endlessly. Wrecker watched him for a while after he’d woken up once. It was trancelike, the way his older brother would sit at the console, eyes flashing from channel to channel, and occasionally sparing a split-second glance at the yellow lenses.

Wrecker made his way to them now. Lowering himself into the chair, he took the goggles in hand. 

“Been a while since… since I got to update ya,” he said quietly to them. “It’s been three months– nah, four I think. Still haven’t found her. It- it feels like we’re so close, but this Hemlock guy… he covers his tracks.”

He stared at the goggles in his hands, wishing that… well, wishing that he wasn’t holding them. That he’d still be forbidden from touching them because “no, you’ll break them, Wrecker” and “I don’t want to clean ration crumbs off of them”. He wished that at least the holorecorder on them would be activated remotely. 

Wrecker sighed. “Echo’s been lookin’, but he’s busy fightin’ the Empire with Rex, too. Gettin’ clones out and keepin’ ‘em safe. Pretty sure he’s got somethin’ goin’ on with the senator, too. I’m proud’a him. Still miss ‘im though.” He glanced down the hallway, trying to listen as best he could. A soft snore reached his ears and he continued. “Hunter’s been– Maker, he’s been a mess. Not eatin’, barely ever sleeps. Finally got ‘im to take some meds. Doesn’ even talk much ‘less it’s to make deals.”

Wrecker’s shoulder twinged and he rolled it. “You use’ta tell us our age would catch up with us,” he chuckled. “I think I’m startin’ to get it. Stuff feels heavier. It’s gettin’ harder to keep Hunter outta trouble, too. Always pickin’ fights, runnin’ in without lookin’, tryin’ just find any trace’a her.”

He sat quietly, as if he was listening to one of Tech’s rambles about their accelerated aging or taking risks. 

“Miss you. Wish you were–” he sniffed. “Wish I coulda pulled you up. ‘M sorry.”

He groaned slightly as he rose from the seat, setting the goggles back on their ledge, adjusting them until they were just so.

He made his way back to the cockpit, slouching into the copilot’s chair. He watched hyperspace streak past in the viewport, unable to stop himself from remembering the first time they’d jumped just after graduation, and unable to stop the tears streaking down his face.

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Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @Padawancat97 @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[saturnsorbits]

Spent the whole afternoon at A&E and now all I can think about is Hospital AU Bakusquad…

Kirishima is in paediatrics.

A giant of a man, who everyone assumes (or hopes) is a physio or maybe even cardiology, but is most often seen with his hair in odd pigtails or butterfly clips, the tattoos on his forearms partially coloured in with bold felt tip. His mega-watt smile and calm, protective demeanour has both kids and parents seeking out his warmth and it isn’t uncommon to hear calls asking when ‘Dr Ei’ is going to be back on the ward. His office is littered with drawings from his patients and thank you cards from their parents - and it isn’t uncommon to see the odd scrawled phone number appear on the edge of a post it note that has somehow found its way into the pocket of his scrubs or coat.

Kaminari is a radiology tech.

He specialised because he thought he’d have a higher chance of seeing tits in his day-to-day work life, but stayed when he discovered his unexpected talent of reading radiographs. He’s got an eye for it, a weird knack that has his final year professor outright refusing to let him pivot to midwifery or plastics. He doesn’t mind so much these days. He’s the life of the department, with an easy going charisma that lures his, often anxious, patients back to relative calm and a manner that makes him more than approachable. ‘Ask Kaminari’ are often the first words spoken in front of a grainy X-Ray, his name the first on patients lips who have been seen by him before.

Mina is a specialist paramedic.

Trained to the highest level alongside Bakugo in med school, Mina decided surgery was just a little too detached for her liking - choosing instead to be the front line for those in an emergency. She likes the rush, the adrenaline filled afternoons that rely on her quick thinking and flawless bedside manner, but she also likes the breaks. Some of her favourite rides are booked appointments ferrying over the resident old dear for her routine CT scan and she’s a favourite amongst the frequent riders. The urgent care staff love her, knowing that they’re getting the best possible hand off when they see her bubblegum curls bounce through the doors, gloved hands gripping the stretcher as she reels off seamless histories and reassurances.

Sero is in orthopedics.

Having undergone his own elbow arthroplasty as a young adult, he knew exactly what he wanted to specialise in even before he started his first year of rotations. By his graduation, he had co-published a series of papers, pioneering a new innovative surgical fix for adolescent joint restoration that involved a veterinary technique using medical grade fishing wire. Despite this, he is humble to his core and steadfastly patient focuses where others may have sought out further research possibilities. His youthful demeanour makes him popular, despite his shyness, oh, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s absolutely smoking hot (and oblivious) either.

Bakugo is an ER Doctor.

It was certain that Bakugo was going far. Graduating top of his class, it was a sure thing that he would become one of the leading surgeons of his generation… Only for him to join the emergency department instead. Longing for a challenge, there are no safer hands in the department than his. Called in for the more harrowing and difficult cases, what he lacks in bedside manner is made up for easily in skill. He is blunt in demeanour and easy to anger, but ask any of the nurses in A&E and they’ll tell you all of that vanishes as soon as a child walks through the door. He has a cult following among the staff, nurses who long to crack his impenetrable shell and get to the gooey stuff they know is underneath and who can blame them? They’ve seen him shirtless in the overnight rooms.

[detectivereads]

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures Vol 3 by CRC Payne & Starbite

5/5

This post is for Fan entertainment, I’m not being paid.

Now this is probably one of my favorite cover art (althrough I do like volume 1 food fight.)

Ok this volume compared to volume 2 this one was rather skinny. But hey a new Batfam book I am ok with that.

Right off the bat (ha!) Chapter one was funny to read, even superheroes can have fun in a friendly game of paintball assassin. However, they must do it without Bruce finding out. This chapter was crazy on how resourceful each of the kids and a few of the adults are.

Ch 2. shows not to mess with Barbra and her mad tech skills. By doing routine stuff making sure that the Batfam and Wayne family are ok online. Babs finds something most interesting on a dating site. Jason is looking for his partner in crime, which I thought was really sweet and it was adorable when Babs started to lightly tease but she also reassures him that it’s ok.

In the later chapters I saw why Alfred has given a lifelong ban to Bruce from the kitchen. Bruce is too easily distracted and sets a pan on fire while reading and talking to Clark.

Later both Red Hood and Orphan were teaching Signal or trying to break a habit that he has been doing. Signals have been using doors instead of crashing through windows or walls to stop the bad guys. While both Red Hood and Orphan have made valid arguments about the merits of going through the window, bit Signal also turns the lesson back on them about the element of surprise, if you normally going through a window or wall to often the bad guy would be expecting them.

Now from the original broody comics I know both Tim and Damin are the closest, but one chapter has them comes to terms, that it took a lot for Tim to go from Robin to Red Robin. He loved being Robin. While Damin had to deal with his upbringing and being the newest Robin, he has a lot to live up too. Damin has heard how great Tim is and is trying to be the best Robin in his own way.

Yes, little Damin has insecurities, because he thinks he has some big shoes to fill on being the next Robin. Sometimes it’s nice to step back and look at a different perspective, that Damin may seem to be this confident person but deep down, he is still a kid. (With a sword.)

The last chapter that I like to read is the one where Harley gets hurt, and Pamela comes to see her (yes I love these two!) poor Harley is on powerful pain meds that puts her to sleep. Now this leave Pamela and Spoiler and Orphan together, which they get some bonding time. Pam teaches them how to care for plants properly.

This volume is just a hodge-podge of coziness, they do have some seriousness in here, but I think its really balance.

But I did really like the one on one that Tim and Damin did, and I would like to see more of that in future chapters. Don’t get me wrong, I like the cozy crime fighting family, but I know that the Batfam has their rough patches.

[macgyvermedical]

I really wish more clinicians (basically anyone in the medical field) would read Improvised Medicine by Kenneth V. Iserson.

I say this because there’s so many low tech interventions that have been studied that are not in medical use in high-resource areas that really should be.

High resource med has its place, but generally that place is in very specific situations when the low tech stuff has been exhausted and the high tech stuff is all that could possibly do the job.

What I am saying is a medium-sized hospital should not have 4 CT scanners and descend into chaos when one of them needs repaired.

[all-pacas]

DIAGNOSTIC OLYMPICS, SEASON 1, EPISODES 15-END

part one, part two

Hi! I was curious about who on House (besides House) gets the most diagnoses right. Other folks have already run a tally (it's Chase), but I was curious how other factors would influence the tally — whose ideas get run with, who manages treatment, who screws up… So I thought I'd keep score.

1 point for getting the answer. This is almost always going to be House.

.5 points for Valuable Contribution — stuff that isn't the final answer, but either is thought to be the final answer or is valuable to the solving of the case. Stuff like "noticing something on the MRI" doesn't count; things like "figuring out how to treat" does.

-.5 to -1 for Mistakes — stuff that delays or prevents diagnoses, injuring or killing patients, etc.

HEAVY DIAGNOSES: Cushing’s

+1 House: Figures out it’s Cushing’s. Another episode more about Vogler than medicine.

+0 Chase: Is super gross and awful about the patient all episode, complains non-stop, and is in his Peak Rat Era, but he still works his ass off and doesn’t let it show when in the room with the patient. Probably because he's more worried about getting fired, but. Compare to Foreman in the Rabies episode, who dismissed and refused to look at the patient. It's not a high bar.

ROLE MODEL DIAGNOSES: Epstein-Barr

+1 House: everyone is super busy with drama, but House figures out the case in his spare time. COINCIDENCE STRIKES AGAIN: Chase, for the third time, accidentally says the right diagnosis immediately, only to be shot down because it made no sense at the time. This time he points out he got it right, but House is also right that when he said it it was dumb.

BABIES AND BATHWATER DIAGNOSES: Lung cancer

+1 Team: The patient is diagnosed very quickly; the conflict of the episode is much more about keeping both her and her baby alive. Which, uh. -5 Vogler: Crossing from interfering jerk into “actively killing people,” his stunt with the C-section killed the patient. He could have pulled her from the trial without stopping the delivery. Hope the husband sues!

KIDS DIAGNOSES: Pregnancy

+1 House: Realizes the patient is pregnant, and from there it all falls into place. +.5 Chase: Despite House doing his best to punish him all episode, he comes up with a way to scan the patient without a CT. This is also the second time he’s figured out how to do something with “old fashioned” tech — first x-raying the ham worms in the pilot, and now using an ultrasound to scan a brain. Did he go to med school in the 1950s?

LOVE HURTS DIAGNOSES: Infection under jaw

+1 House: Figures it out fairly quickly once he realizes the tic-tacs are a clue. -.5 Chase: Hiding his knowledge of the patient being into S&M was very much a good move when it comes to workplace bullying, but could have led to delays in treatment/diagnosis. Luckily, not five minutes later, the truth is revealed anyway. -5 COOL POINTS: Chase attempting to dom the patient was terrifying. Why do we give him shit for kissing the 9 year old when this is so much more cringe? +1 Annette: Cares about Harvey, does everything she can to help him, doesn't give up trying to help and support him. Nice to see her portrayed as a caring person and not just Sexy Dom Lady.

THREE STORIES DIAGNOSES: N/A. But also, -5 to House's backstory doctors.

HONEYMOON DIAGNOSES: Intermittent porphyria

+1 House: As is usual for season finales, it is not so much about the medicine. Mark Warner is sick, no one has any idea or good guesses, and the fellows mostly exist in the background for House’s development with Stacy.

FINAL S1 TALLY:

HOUSE: 16.5 TEAM: 4 FOREMAN: 1 CHASE: 2.5 CAMERON: 2.5

Foreman's low score surprised me, but he tends to swing from "being really brilliant" to "being very unprofessional." He does well, but also gets demerits for his mistakes. He gets the most focus and character development, and that's only going to continue next season; I'm pretty sure he's going to pull ahead of the pack at some point.

Cameron essentially tying for second surprised me, because I remember her pulling a lot of dramatic stunts (spoilers, she doesn't start S2 strong), but she actually doesn't make a lot of mistakes that pull her score down. Sort of a "slow and steady" approach. She also, so far, is the only one to come up with a diagnoses (Wilson's Disease) on her own (even if House was only a second behind her).

Chase managed to guess the right diagnoses three times. He doesn't get credit, because they were guesses and he didn't seriously try to prove or fight for them, but it is interesting accidental foreshadowing. I do think Foreman was originally intended to be "House's successor," but there really is a decent case to be made, even in S1, that Chase has a shot.

Not much to say about House; his score is always going to be the highest, particularly in episodes more focused on character drama than "solving the mystery."