#cause i don't remember how long ive had that jar
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espytalks · 1 year ago
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didn't know jelly could mold, but here i am, eating a sandwich with a different (inferior) non-grape jam-like product cause apparently it can go bad.
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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months ago
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helloo i’m so sorry because i feel like you get this sort of ask all the time but i wanted some advice on how to come out or even if i should come out to my mom
for context- my parents were super into the right-evangelical church scene when i was really young. my dad is still that way, but my mom has shifted more to the middle road. it’s less middle road and more like “you live how you live, i’ll live how i live, i have bigger problems”. im an adult, but i currently live at home when im not at college and will continue to do so for quite a while. i hadn’t even really planned on coming out, because i know my dad would react badly and although i know she wouldn’t tell him, i dont want to stress her out more. i figured it would only come up if there was a long term girlfriend, but that really isn’t in the cards anyway because of my states increase in homophobic legislation
but recently at my parents church, there’s been an increase in casual homophobia/transphobia too, and the sermons are more often than not about avoiding “worldly beliefs” and “correcting” the idea that homosexuality is okay. i’ve always kinda known they were like this, but since i’m also somewhat spiritual/religious, it’s jarring and turns to guilt spirals really fast. because i live at home im expected to go, and if i don’t it upsets my mom and i really don’t like making her life harder. but last week i had a panic attack at work over the guilt spirals, and my mom is trying to figure out what’s causing it. we’re really close, so she knows when im avoiding something and she doesn’t believe any of the half truths ive given her so far. i don’t know how she’ll react though. she’s supportive of my aunt and her wife, and she kinda fought my grandma after she made a “at least she’s not gay” comment about me after i got my first boyfriend, but she’s also called bi and nonbinary people “confused” and has said stuff about traditional marriage being the expectation.
i don’t know if coming out would help, and i dont think i could handle the conversation going poorly. but i dont know what else to do
Hi! God, this sounds awful.
First, please remember that there is nothing to feel guilty for. You are absolutely perfect just the way you are.
When you said you don't know if you can handle the conversation going poorly, that made me nervous. So I'm wondering, is there a way to avoid going to church without coming out? Maybe say you have a lot of schoolwork to focus on? Even say you want to go to a different church? Because I'm thinking, if your parents get mad about that, at least they aren't upset about your identity, they're mad about a made-up reason.
I don't think coming out to your mom at some point is a horrible idea. But I think you should wait until you're out of the house and you have a more secure grasp on the fact that you are allowed to be unapologetically you.
Let me know what you think! Naming you church anon!
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1d1195 · 6 months ago
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a couple years back i made a playlist called ‘songs i want played at my funeral’ and it was just songs i was really into at the moment but my mom somehow saw it and she was maaaaddddd😂 NO I GET IT THERE ARE JUST SOME SONGS THAT WHEN YOU HEAR THEM AT A WEDDING ITS LIKE YOUR HEART STOPS WORKING IDK WHAT THAT IS
went out with my oldest brother to run some errands today and i made us listen to 1D in the car nwbdjejwh it’s a hit with everyone, no matter who they are, he had the time of his life even if he would never admit it🤣
i’m glad you liked it !! i sat down and really listened to the lyrics and it was just so cute and sweet
hidden writer is so real of you lol. you’re literally changing lives out here and then living a normal life behind the screen, humble queen🙂‍↕️ you’re like our super hero (i laughed at u telling him u took a writing class when you didn’t just as an excuse, you’re so funny for that) i think it’s really therapeutic to have something just for yourself like this, idk but i really like to keep things to myself, as much as i love my family and friends and all that. even if it’s something small (or a hit tumblr blog in your case)
I LOVE NORMAL PEOPLE !!!!! i bought the book a couple of years ago when i was traveling and one time my sister picked it up and was like “i couldn’t even get past the first few pages, it was too confusing!” 😭😭 not for everyone i guess, but i really enjoyed both the book and the show.
SAW THAT YOU LIKE MADELINE MILLER AND GREEK MYTH STUFF ??? TWIN !!!! i read the song of achilles and jwhdidjwhaks i was in LOVE with it, ive been meaning to get to circe for soooo long but idk i just haven’t, gonna get that one on the next bookstore trip hopefully 🤞
i got Love & Other Words, The Book of Goose (saw something abt this online, super psyched for it), A Certain Hunger (cannibalism i think?? fun!!😃), and a Mary Oliver poetry book !! i have this obsession with reading deep, serious, (sometimes dark n sad) books because the writing is just sooooooo good !!! and i just always go back to them, they’re my favorites, but ive realized i have to balance that out with a cute, soft, easygoing romance afterwards cause i can only handle so much😭😭 even if it’s just a cute fic i need to remind myself there’s still happiness somewhere🤣🤣
HOPE YOUR HAVE THE GREATEST DAY EVER SAMMMM MWAHHH😚✨
~🎶
THAT'S SO FUNNY regarding the funeral playlist 😭😭
OF COURSE HE HAD THE TIME OF HIS LIFE. I do that to my bf all the time. I tell him "this song is a bop. Do you remember who wrote all the bops?" And he'll be like *sigh* "Louis..." it's my favorite thing in the world. He doesn't need to admit he had a good time, it's an internal thing that he needs to feel and nothing more 💕 ask him what his favorite song was and report back. I have my bf take 1D quizzes from Buzzfeed all the time 😂
I never thought about how much I keep from him and other people I love, but really it's just this blog. A HIT 😭😭 You're so sweet 💕
I LOVE Greek Myth stuff. I've read Elektra, Galatea (short story by Madeline Miller, didn't love it tbh, but anyway), Ariadne (Theseus is a D-BAG idk why I was surprised but still), I also have A Thousand Ships on my shelf as well as Pandora's Jar (which is actually looking more like a book describing all the greek myths in terms of why men suck and women get blamed for it anyway). I liked Circe more I think--been a while since I read it so I don't remember why, but I did. SO good.
PLEASE tell me what you think of Love & Other Words. I just got it back from my sister, I was rereading parts of it--it is my favorite of theirs so far 💕
I'm intrigued by The Book of Goose! Let me know what you think! I think I would skip A Certain Hunger personally, but I can't say it didn't reel me in a little. That's cool you picked up a poetry book. I'm not very into poetry--I think my brain is broken for higher order thinking. I can only do fluffy stories these days and historical fiction. But yeah. I think that's pretty cool you like the deep serious stuff! Nothing wrong with that! It's probably very thought provoking and I can't wait to hear your reviews! 💕
LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
xoxo
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Modern Monsters: IV
"You're just a fucking monster...what do you know?"
"You're ideas are recycled, just like you. Just DIE already"
"Haha! He can't, remember?"
Frank gently closed the laptop, sitting back and rubbing his eyes.
He shouldn't be reading the comments. He knew that.
Young Maria had warned him. He had succumbed to human curiosity. Only natural.
He rose from the chair, his head barely brushing the ceiling. He had taken to shaving his head, the hair growing in patchy and wild around his many scars. Shaving just made sense. He'd gone to the barber the first time, in the nearby town. Upon seeing him enter, the shop went quiet. He was accustomed to this. He tried to shrink himself, hunching in against his shoulders, dropping his head, bending his knees. No use. His appearance, no matter how small he made himself, was jarring. The dark hair, perpetually greasy, standing up in strange shapes around scars thick and ropey on his scalp made it worse.
The men seated in the row of chairs, lively and chatting a moment ago sat silent, staring.
A very thin man in the last chair quietly folded the newspaper he was reading and stood up. His arms almost looked too long for his body, his nose long and sharp. He looked accustomed to stares and whispers himself. He cleared his throat.
"You'll be wanting a hair cut, I take it? Best to sit on the bench out back I think, more room, y'know?"
Frank nodded, and walked through the small shop, ducking under the ceiling fans. One of the men by the window slapped his thigh with the magazine he was holding, a rail thin woman with impossible breasts barely netted in cotton on the cover.
He stood up and tossed the magazine aside.
"Smells like death in here." He grumbled and stomped toward the door, making the bell above it dance discordantly as he stormed out. The thin man shook his head but made no comment.
He cut and shaved Frank's hair that day, with a kind and gentle hand. He hadn't spoken much, what was there to say? But the kindness spoke volumes. He did, however, explain the benefits of a straight razor over the cheap plastic disposables at the store. "It'd do you best, given the scarring. Easier to maneuver. I can sell you what you need, best to be practicing on a peach first though, don't want to skin your own hide."
And that was that. Frank appreciated the humanity, but showing him how to do it himself ensured he wouldn't be back. Commerce over benevolence, it seemed.
Frank shook his head at the memory and planted his big hands on the table, trying to stretch.
His legs ached, and he found perverse pleasure in the ache. He was alive, that ache said. His aching legs still held him, when they should have failed ages ago. They had no reason to work at all. The various pains in his body, evidence of glorious life. No matter his feelings toward his Father. (Creator?) He was grateful to be alive.
The thinking though. He could sometimes do with less of that. He felt guilty for feeling this way but his mind simply would not let him rest.
He only wanted to help. He remembered how it felt to be so lost in the beginning, so confused. So, so angry. The anger had been his downfall. Causing him to hurt those he loved. Eventually he took himself away, far from mankind, with nothing but books for company and he spent years learning that anger and how to subdue and overcome.
He had watched time pass in the world around him, trees grow and die, animals, once plentiful grow rare and sometimes extinct. Watching man spread himself thin over the world, and deep into the wilds. Finding him. Marveling at him. Calling him Bigfoot and Yeti. Groups of them hunting him, misunderstanding the furs he wore for protection. Then, inevitably, he was found. When they realized he could speak, intelligently, that he could think and understand, they were both in awe and horrified. He was herded back to civility with promises of education and welcoming companionship.
He was admired and indulged for a time. Interviewed by pretty women with big eyes and eager mouths, speaking platitudes and complimenting his beautiful mind and strong body. "You could pick me up with one finger!" One woman exclaimed, stroking his arm and gazing hungrily at him. Like she would devour him and leave no scraps for the vultures. He knew what she wanted, and had no desire to give it. His mind had a lust for learning and nothing else. His body agreed.
He had met young Maria in that time. She wasn't like the rest. They talked. She listened. She provided information on how things were. Showed him the internet and how to use it. He loved her. She was compassionate and generous and asked nothing more than he wished to give.
She visited often, always leaving at dusk in her little car, waving as she drove off down the road, her tail lights fading slowly.
He would watch until they were gone, and turn inside, to the cursed computer and the internet. Typing in philosophical essays, and advice for humans to be kinder.
He amassed a following of the broken, and the newly healed. He became a steadfast friend and confidant to many who were experiencing change and upheaval.
He saved lives. He knew that. They told him.
But his mind, still would not quiet. The thoughts racing, seeing impending war and apocalypse at every turn and driving it along, the comments, hateful, sneaky, insidious.
"Just die already."
"Ha ha, He can't, remember?"
No. He couldn't. He'd live past their time, and he'd watch their children grow into the same. Just as he had always done.
"He is happy whom circumstances suit his temper; but he Is more excellent who suits his temper to any circumstance."
David Hume
-ADL
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imdoingwhateverisnext · 2 years ago
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"All Bleeding Stops...Eventually"
(probably needs further editing)
I don't remember the first time I heard this said in the Emergency Department, but as a young person, I thought it was cold, harsh, and rather insensitive. After a decade or two of seeing the most horrific things, working through them, and "processing" them all, I absolutely LOVE this quote.
As an analogy, I might say, imagine spending a perceived near eternity on a tiny boat, ALONE with a large hole in it. You may have a radio that works sometimes, but no one you can really talk to. You have a Dixie cup, a mason jar, or coffee mug. Maybe all you have is your balled up shirt, bra or pants, and you are constantly emptying the water out of the boat in the best way you possibly can. Maybe there is a person that was in your boat but is no longer there, and you are grieving the loss of him or her. The water is always too deep for your boat to stay safely afloat and you are wet, exhausted and without anyone to talk to about it; every day. Ultimately this will stop. It has to, and on some level you know this. I have heard of similar less detailed analogies, like putting band-aids on arterial bleeds. It is a similar concept. If you don't have the proper equipment, knowledge or resources, you are basically screwed. You will either come up with some better idea on how to stay afloat, get rescued, or you will exhaust yourself to the point of letting go. When your boat sinks, you are left floating and treading until you can no longer. Maybe it will be the sharks that relieve you from your suffering (I have heard the bites are nearly painless initially as they happen so fast). Either way, "something has to give", so to speak. After an exhausting battle, sometimes it may be better to float and tread gently than spend every waking moment emptying water from your sinking boat.
One evening early in my (so called) career, I worked on a trauma victim, a 72 year old man with no lower face from a shotgun blast. He survived despite the fact that all of the tools we needed to keep him alive were absent. Everything we did took too long. He seemed like a lost cause by all accounts. He lost so much blood it smelled throughout the hospital, and he probably should have been dead. No matter what we did wrong, he was going to live. For whatever reason I cannot explain this fully.
I worked on a trauma case of a 27 year old girl who was hit by a truck while walking at dusk (near dark) with her friend. When she arrived to us by ambulance, she had no large intact bones. This was at first obvious during the multiple attempts to intubate her, because the entire front of her face moved in and out during the process (which is not supposed to happen). Attempts to start IV's were unsuccessful; her arms and legs had no firmness or skeletal structure. We were left with just basically boneless skin and muscle.
She had left an imprint of her face in the front of the truck that impacted her (according to accounts from the paramedics). She appeared to be bruised, yet fully pristine and intact from the outside, generally speaking. Our equipment was working, we had all of the tools we needed. We were all working as best as we could and we had adequate staffing for the situation.
Though there was so much emotion and obvious trauma on that night, what sticks out in my mind to this day, was the feeling that it seemed the only person in peace, was the accident victim. She was the only person going to rest, for a long time. Nearly everyone else would be scarred from this situation. She just looked like a sleeping angel with soft rubber-like arms and a broken/bruised face.
Of the traumatized others left behind, was the completely sober man who hit her. He was driving the speed limit at night on his way to work and rounded a curve. She was in the road slightly and her friend was in the grass. He didn't see her until it was too late. The friend with whom she was walking and talking recalled how she looked beside her and was suddenly was walking alone, just after a truck passed by. She was confused. It happened that fast, and she didn't know for a few minutes where her friend was. The remainder of the traumatized were (I am certain her family), paramedics, emergency workers, firemen, police, doctors, nurses, and ER staff. For all of the work that was done, that we did, it was heartbreaking and devastating that we could not save this young woman.
I still know exactly where she was hit, the spray paint in the road lasted for months after the investigation. I never pass this part of town without thinking about her. I have several places in this town like this. I don't know if paramedics and EMS workers feel the same about scenes they work, but after many years, I realize how many traumatic memories I drive around to avoid on a daily basis; the day care fire, my aunt's apartment, the scene of the crash of my friend from high school. The list is almost limitless. Avoidance and compartmentalization have helped me. Although some days it is just easier not to leave the house at all.
Feeling out of control and unable to help or save someone is the most helpless of all feelings. I have been somehow involved in enough tragic scenarios in which I finally ultimately realized, the outcome of this situation is out of my hands. I was fighting against something or someone I could not and still cannot fully explain. It is a feeling I have gotten a lot in my life. Most of the time the feeling was of peaceful acceptance after a long and frustrating fight. It was as if someone said to me internally, "It's okay, no matter what you do, this one is mine. Feel free to fight more if you want." It was as if the chaos of life, God or the Universe dictated who lived and who died, and that was it. I had no choice in the matter, which felt futile and pointless at times. In some ways though, it was like a kind, "throwing in of the towel" from a manager/coach who knows you did your best.
This is not a kind of thing easily accepted by some trained medical professionals, when saving lives is part of your job description. If a person dies on "your watch", it is your fault. You did something wrong, you didn't do enough, there wasn't enough staff, the staff were not properly trained, or there wasn't enough ancillary support. Maybe patient transport was delayed, or maybe it was a political or funding issue. For someone like me, it was always my fault. I didn't do a good enough job. Those feelings linger, sometimes for years. Sometimes for decades. However, every now and then I would get that welcomed feeling of peaceful acceptance.
Performing CPR on a friend who doesn't survive is a terrible situation that would wreck some people. One incident like this could destroy the mind of a person. I have detailed this particular story in another one of my writings so I won't describe it here just now, but it is ONE trauma that hasn't left my mind yet. I doubt it ever will.
The losses in these cases are heartbreaking, horrific and catastrophic. The effects of even one of these types of incidents can be mentally, emotionally and sometimes even physically devastating. These events are often not even recognized as trauma until the "adrenaline" wears off. It took me years to realize after seeing and dealing with so many traumas, that they can leave permanent wounds.
In all of the departments I have worked in, emotional or psychological trauma to workers from patient incidents was not something ever really spoken of. There was always another bloody, sometimes gross, possibly life threatening thing waiting in the waiting room, or rolling in on the next ambulance. We had rooms to clean, supplies to restock, and we had to be ready for the next one. We didn't have time to mentally deal with any one case. It was always on to the next thing, every time. I suppose this is how I deal with things now. I do whatever is next.
We were the ones who ran towards disaster, blood, gore, and trauma. It was almost an unspoken rule, we couldn't complain about any of it. We were ALL dealing with the sight and experience of terrible things. Not all of us the same incidents, but all terrible at some point. So we would tell jokes, prank each other, and compartmentalize the trauma. I personally still love dark humor. We ignored, suppressed and did other types of (often unhealthy) things in our spare time to deflect, negate, or drown the unwanted feelings and memories.
Laughter, to this day is my favorite coping mechanism. People wonder how I can just shut a part of my brain down and watch stand up comedy. I don't have a good answer for this; except I have been doing it for so many years. It has helped me through a lot of ugly thoughts and kept me "mostly normal", considering the circumstances.
I am just one individual with some skills, but so much of life, I have learned, is out of my control. Some days it felt as though the harder I fought, the harder life has kicked me right in my ass! Fighting alone indefinitely is not reasonable, apparently. So, I fight less now, but I can still scrap with the best of them (occasionally).
I look back on everything and think to myself, how did I even do it? Could I do it again? Would I ever want to? What could I do differently that might have made things better? Honestly, I don't even have answers for these questions. I am slowly coming to terms with memories, traumas, and negativity from all of these things. Mild changes in my mindset and philosophy over the years has helped me somewhat.
It is good to know that all bleeding stops eventually. It is a comfortable thought and fact that gives me peace when I am struggling (too hard or for too long).
***PROBABLY NEEDS MORE EDITING***
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the-dreaming-angel · 5 years ago
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Saving Bucky barnes chapter 5
Strange reached and turn ur head and see the blood in your ear he says you either have as busted eardrum or a pretty bad concussion. Come in let's get you 2 taken care of. Strange shows you 2 what looks like a sick bay. you lay bucky on the examination table and wince at the pain your side. strange says u get on the other table. you stumble and fall on your butt you look up 2 strange he then picks you up and carries you through the gold ring to the hospital. you say strange put me down im hurt and bleeding ill get blood on your cape he says you been shot this is how im keeping pressure on it and carry you at the same time. I got my hand firmly on the wound so you wont bleed on me. You say what about bucky I don't want to leave him for 2 long in case he wakes up. im worried he won't remember and will try 2 leave i dont know if he will be the winter Soldier or bucky. Strange says Wong is watching him and no one but us can come into any of the rooms just the foyer so he will be safe. Right about that time he sits you down and hands you a heavy rag he says hold this on it. I dont know why you like to worry more about the Sargent then your own well being your not immortal just cursed . You take your jacket off the pull up your shirt. You fold the rag double and place it on the wound. strange turns around with shears and says oh well that's easier. Your irises turn a deep red as you say very seriously no one cuts my jacket ever. Strange chuckles and sets the shears down. he says im just going to put some gauze and tape on it cause I know you will heal he pulls out the bullet applies the bandage and then wraps your waist tightly and tapes it. He takes the eye check thingy to check your eyes for signs of a concussion but u remind him it dosen't work on you. You try to get up but strange says no your staying put. You need to take care of your Self the sargent is fine. you say I think im gonna be sick he quickly grabs a trash can. which you promptly empty your Stomach contents into .
Strange says. I may have underestimated how bad of a concussion you have. He quickly scoops you up but not without protests from you about he needs to focus on bucky and not you. You finally convince strange to set you in a dark room so you can rest. He says not 2 sleep that you need your brain to heal. Strange goes 2 checks on bucky. You suddenly hear a group of people walking down the hallway. Shit you curse and hide as you hear the people talking 2 a nurse you recognize them as hydra agents they look like the same agents from the tower. one checks in the room your in instead of killing him you just sneak out in your glamour . Strange catches u in the hallway (becase he can see through the glamour). you say we have 2 get 2 him now! I don't know how they knew i was here but if they know im here they know he isant being watched. Strange takes you back 2 bucky he is still out you can hear him his heart slowly beat. You whisper come back 2 me James I can't lose you, I'll snap and no one will be safe if I lose my heart.... You drift off laying on buckys shoulder listening to his heartbeat slowly continue on. Strange wakes you up later saying ur not supposed 2 falls asleep you rub your eyes and say strange I'm nocturnal I sleep during the day im sure im fine is there anything u can do 2 get bucky 2 wake up? It's then you notice the room is silent except for strange's heartbeat your eyes grow wide and you look at bucky . his chest isant rising as it's supposed when he breathes any more. you shake him bucky! Bucky please wake up! You scream strange do something!!! His heart isant beating! He isant breathing! You begin to panic what happened strange! Just about the time your about 2 threaten the Dr who is trying 2 use the time stone. you are jarred back into reality by a very cold bucket of water on you and strange and bucky calling your name. You look up bucky through water dripping into your eyes you jump up and hold him tight as you can without hurting him you say I thought I lost you. Thank heaven it was just a bad dream. You hold him tight listening 2 his heartbeat. You ask strange if it's safe 2 go back 2 the tower he. Replied yes but you not going anywhere. Bucky chimes in
y/n your heart stopped I don't know if it was a bad dream. I thought i was going loose you. strange thinks you need 2 heal so u need to stay here. strange walks in with an entire bag of A+ he says down this and your free 2 go or u can get it in an iv, either way, u need it because u lost a good amount. You reply My meds are for that they have all the minerals and stuff in a tablet so i don't have 2 do that. you push the bag away not wanting it . Bull shit! Bucky yells y/n drink it or u will have it in an iv. Strange says ill get bucky 2 hold u down. Buck answers in Russian да. you say fine! You grab the bags and walk into another room and come back a few seconds later then say now can i go home? Strange says yes so you teleport back. As you arrive cap says good ur suited up mission time you look 2 bucky and giggle and says well lets get back on the plane then. The look on buckys face is priceless you get on your tipe toes and say softly this time i promise not 2 have a fit and down the plane. He says will u get my ear plugs from my room please and i will get your meds from bruce? You say ok and poof off bruce is in the lab when bucky walks in he says im here 2 get y/ns meds ? Bruce chuckles and hands him a white foam cup and says do not drink it. he also hands him a bottle of pills and says incase your gone for a few days which bucky puts in his cargo pocket and snaps close. Bruce hands him a small medicne cup with several different pills. You show up right as buck walks into the kitchen he says great i i found u here he hands u the cup and pill cup. You hand him his ear plugs and say put them in now so i know their in he puts them in and kisses you on the top of your head and says softly спасибо, ангел (thank you angel ) now take your pills so i know you got your meds. You take the pills and teleport the two of you to the roof and wait. You say before you load the plane "bucky i want you to hear this new song ! " he says we gota get loaded jarvis can play it on the plane ok ? You say slightly deflated sure ... he starts getting all the gear ready for what ever yall are going 2 need steve usually told you what exact details you were going u thought about the charger 2 buckys ear buds was left on the counter you telelported back and grabbed it and teleported back you also grabbed some other equitment so incase you needed it. You helped get every ones gear in place. Thor and loki were always second 2 load the plane after about 5 mins the plane was taking off and you asked jarvis 2 play the song you had found earlier it was called perfect by Ed sheeran. Bucky chuckled and said i heard this the other day and thought of you and how you love slow dancing. Heard cap stand up he told you 2 it was just another mission to retive intel on a project hydra was trying to recreate the super soldier program. Cap thought it might have bucky's file in it and that if they could get the file they could figure out how to deactivate buckys trigger words . The base was in the english countryside it was not going 2 be easy getting in but you were going in alone . Bucky chimed in about u going in alone but you reminded him what happened last time he stood watch and you werent having that happen again. Cap said try not to kill every one this is supposed 2 be a stealth operation. You chuckled and said i make no promises cap...
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fire-bear · 7 years ago
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I'd like 6 and 8 with USUK! Also, I don't know why you think I would suggest sexy Santa for 17. It's funnier if Alfred is dressed up as old, fat Santa and Arthur still finds him incredibly sexy :D
This is #6. #8 is up next so I’ll get it written soon. Hopefully.
Tinselitis
Someone had decorated the ER, Alfred noticed through hispain. There was tinsel on the walls, high enough to not cause ahazard. Small Christmas trees had been put on the reception desk. Thereceptionists themselves were wearing Santa hats: Alfred had a suddenvision of the decorator getting carried away and placing the hats ontheir heads without them noticing. He was unable to keep back a snortof laughter.
“Stop that,” said Matthew, jostling him byway of a reprimand. Alfred winced and Matthew grimaced. “Sor-”
“Not your fault,” Alfred said through grittedteeth. “Can we please just sit down somewhere?”
“Right.” Matthew deposited him onto one ofthe chairs in the little rows. “Let me just go talk to thereceptionists to find out how long we’ll have to wait.”
“Okay.”
Matthew disappeared and Alfred finally let himself pullfaces at the pain which shot through him whenever he shifted. Hewasn’t sure he could feel his ankle – or his foot, for that matter.All that was there was a throbbing mess. Alfred was too scared tolook down at it but he hoped it wasn’t too bad. It was, after all,Christmas Day. He wanted to go home for dinner!
“Hey, Al,” said Matthew and Alfred satupright, surprised that he’d been drifting off, head resting againstthe back of the chair. Looking around, he found that his brother wasaccompanied by a nurse pushing a wheelchair.
“Aw, man!” said Alfred. “Do I reallyneed to?”
“Yup,” Matthew replied, unsympathetically.“I’ve filled in the form and the nurse has got you a bed. Comeon.”
With gentle hands and a lot of counts to three, Matthewmanaged to help Alfred onto one leg before he dropped him into thewheelchair. Alfred almost protested but the cheerful nurse spoke.“Great! Let’s get you fixed up, hm?”
“Thanks… uh?” said Alfred, leaning his headback so he could look up at the man. He seemed to be upside down fromhis vantage point.
“Feliciano,” said the nurse. “Pleased tomeet you. Have you been having a good Christmas? Before having tocome here, I mean.”
“Yeah! I mean, have you seen the snow?”
“From the windows, yes!” Feliciano said,excitedly.
“It’s awesome. A white Christmas, dude! How oftendo we get one of them?” He cut off with a hiss as the wheelchairbumped into a set of swinging doors.
“Oh, sorry!” exclaimed Feliciano. He didn’tsound contrite but Alfred didn’t mind since his bubbly personalitywas better than having some scary person looking after him. “I’llgive you something for that,” Feliciano continued, “when weget to the bed. Then Doctor Kirkland will come have a look at you.”
“Cool,” said Alfred.
Feliciano continued on his way through the hospital,passing by people with other broken limbs or people who seemed to beunconscious. Alfred shivered as he noticed them and hoped they’d beable to have a good Christmas once they’d gotten better. Finally,they arrived at a bed beside one whose curtains had been pulledaround it. There was voices from beyond it and Alfred tried not tolisten.
“Right,” Feliciano said once he’d pushed thewheelchair around until it was facing outwards. “Let’s get youonto the bed and get some painkillers into you.”
With some manoeuvring, they managed it, though Alfredjarred his leg at one point. He yelped in pain and screwed up hisface as his vision darkened briefly. Thankfully, he stayed consciousand his arm was soon hooked up to an IV. He watched the liquiddripping.
Once Feliciano had bustled away with a happy grin,Matthew sat down on the chair beside his bed. “I can’t believeI’m in the ER with you. Today.”
“Sorry, Mattie.”
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
“Yup. Never doing that again,” Alfred assuredhim.
Matthew snorted. “I’ll believe that when I seeit,” he said. “I’m fairly sure I remember a younger versionof you doing the exact same thing with similar consequences.”
“Oh, come on,Mattie. Don’t go dredging up the past like that! Not cool!”
“It’s not my fault you’re doomed to repeateverything, whether it’s good for you or not.”
“Mattie,”Alfred whined, though not as loudly as normal. It took him a momentto work out what was wrong with his voice and realised that he wasfeeling… reallygood. The pain was completely gone. He kind of felt a little…floaty. Alfred tried not to grin and ended up grinning at his brotherregardless. Matthew raised an eyebrow; when Alfred didn’t respond orreact, he frowned.
“Al?”
“The painkillers are working,” Alfredinformed him, seeing as he seemed to be confused.
“Ah,” said Matthew, his own grin slowlyforming. “So it’s going to be just like last time.”
“Huh?”
At that point, a doctor swept into their area andgrabbed the clipboard off the end of his bed. Alfred had to blink afew times to get his eyes to focus. It wasn’t that his vision hadgone blurry. Somehow, his vision had gone… wavy. As if he was lostat sea and bobbing around.
Finally, he was ableto make the man out – and almost fainted from shock. The doctor wasstraight up hot. Messyblond hair, like he’d been running his hand through it. Thickeyebrows. Legs which went on forever. Brilliant, bright green eyes.Like… like emeralds! Or very shiny parts of the ocean or water. Thebest bit, though, were the glasses.
A year or so ago, Alfred had gotten laser eye surgery.It meant that he could actually get lab goggles on his face withouthaving everything digging into him. He had rejoiced! But, since then,for some reason, people with glasses really did it for him. It wasstupid and strange – but the fact that this hot doctor was made allthe hotter with those specs had him gasping in surprise. The doctorlooked up at him and tilted his head before shrugging a shoulder andspeaking.
With an English accent, the hottest of all accents.
“Hello, MisterJones,” he said. “I’m Doctor Kirkland.” He glanced atAlfred’s ankle. “I see your Christmas has been a bit toomerry, hm?”
“It’s been awesome,” Alfred replied, still alittle awestruck. “And it just got more awesome.”
Kirkland raised an eyebrow. “I see.” Heglanced at Matthew and Alfred pouted at the loss of his attention.“Well, I’m just going to take a look at your ankle. How are thepainkillers treating you? If you start to feel ill, we’ll have tochange to a different kind, so let us know.”
“If I feel ill, you’ll come running?” askedAlfred, desperate to have Kirkland’s eyes on him.
He rejoiced as Kirkland glanced up, evidently bemused.“Or one of the nurses, most likely Feli.”
“Feli?”
“Feliciano.”
“Ah.” Why had Kirkland shortened Feliciano’sname? Were they dating? Maybe Alfred should flirt with Kirkland tokeep his attention. “Ah,” he repeated, thinking of theabsolute best way to flirt. “Doctor, doctor!”
Surprised, Kirkland blinked at him. “Yes?”
“If I go into cardiac arrest, will you give memouth-to-mouth?” Alfred grinned at Kirkland, hoping that madehis interest clear.
Frowning, Kirkland looked down at Alfred’s ankle,across the bed to Matthew who was stifling giggles, and back toAlfred. “It’s highly unlikely that you’ll go into cardiacarrest-”
“I will if you stay around for long!” Alfreddeclared.
“Oh…” Kirkland stared at him blankly for amoment before his cheeks suddenly turned pink. He shook his head. “Ishe always like this?” he asked Matthew.
“He gets a little… goofy, I suppose, when he’son strong enough painkillers,” Matthew told him.
“I see.”
“Didja not like that?” Alfred asked, feelingdownheartened as Kirkland resolutely went back to gently inspectingwhat he could see above Alfred’s boot. “I can tell you betterjokes, if you’d like?”
“Will that make you feel better?” Kirklandasked, absently.
“Yeah. Though, it’d make me feel better if I couldstare into those gorgeous eyes of yours.”
Matthew snorted. Kirkland straightened, keeping hiseyes down. “I’ll need to remove his boot and sock,” he saidto Matthew.
“Ah! No! Don’t ignore me!” Alfred cried witha pout.
Kirkland chuckled. “I can hardly do that, can I?Now, Mister Jones, you’ll have to keep as still as possible while Iremove this.”
“You can remove more than just the one, y'know,”said Alfred, winking at him.
Shaking his head, Kirkland began to untie the boot. “Ionly need to see this ankle, Mister Jones.”
“Dontcha wanna see more of me?”
Carefully, Kirkland began to slide the boot off,keeping Alfred’s foot as still as possible. “I’m not sure quitewhat you mean by that.” Setting the shoe aside, Kirkland peeledAlfred’s thermal sock away.
“Both.”
“Both what?” asked Kirkland, sending Alfred aconfused frown.
“Well, do you want to see me on a date with you?And do you want to see me, naked, on your be-”
“Al!” cried Matthew, knocking Alfred’s trainof thought completely off its tracks. “Stop!”
Blinking, Alfred looked between Matthew and Kirkland.“Huh?”
Cheeks pink, Kirkland continued prodding at Alfred’sankle. Little jolts of pain were quickly snuffed out by thepainkillers. “Well,” said Kirkland, “it’s swollenquite a bit so I’m of the opinion that it’s broken. We’ll have to getyou booked in for an x-ray to make sure before I can set it, ifthat’s the case.”
“Will it take long?” asked Matthew.
“No. Hopefully, it shouldn’t be too long.”Kirkland turned to Alfred. “I hope you’ve learnt to be a bitmore careful… Actually, how did you break your leg?”
“I was on the roof,” said Alfred, withoutthinking. Kirkland’s eyebrows raised, obviously incredulous. Alfredpaused, knowing how silly he’d been to end up in the ER. But hewanted Kirkland to be impressed… “There was a cat,” hesettled on saying.
“A cat?”
“A kitten, I think. It was on the roof while wewere playing in the snow. Mewing. It was so cute and I just hadto go rescue it. I’m always rescuing animals so I’m an expert-”
Matthew suddenly barked out a loud laugh. “Don’tlet him fool you, Doctor. He was playing in the snow with my son,making snowmen and having snowball fights but they left a large pileunder the roof-”
“Mattie!” Alfred cried, aghast.
“-and Al here decided that sledding off the roofwas a good idea.”
“Oh, dear,” said Kirkland, his lips twitchingas he tried to stop himself smiling.
“But, by that point, my son had gotten tired andwas more wary about the idea. So Al decided to show him there wasnothing to worry about. His friend, Ivan, told him that ‘snow issoft’.”
“Oh, no,” said Kirkland, grimacing. Hepursed his lips, as if to keep himself from laughing.
“To demonstrate, Al jumped – feet first – intothe snow drift. This is the end result.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate.”
“It’s not the first time he’s jumped off a roof,”Matthew continued, apparently warming up to his subject matter.Before Alfred could stop him, he forged on with the story when henoticed Kirkland’s interested expression. “When we were kids, hewanted to be a superhero so bad. He jumped off the roof of thislittle shed thing onto a trampoline so he could 'fly’. So, no, he’sprobably not learned his lesson.”
Kirkland finally cracked and laughed, his face lightingup completely. Alfred’s heart entirely melted and he almost didn’twant to stop it. But he couldn’t not say the most perfect line.
“Have you got a defibrillator? 'Cause I think youjust made my heart skip a beat.”
The laughter stopped with a surprised gasp. Kirklandstared at Alfred for a second, eyes wide, cheeks getting redder bythe second. Then he glanced at Matthew, gave them a weak smile andsaid, “I’ll get someone to take you to the radiologist.”
It was half an hour before Alfred was takenthere; they had splinted his ankle to keep it still but it began tothrob during the scan. Once he was returned to the bed, they gave himmore painkillers. He waited for someone to come tell him what washappening with nurses popping in to attach things to the clipboard ormake sure he was comfortable. At one point, Matthew got thirsty andwent away to find something to drink.
And that was when Kirkland reappeared.
“Hello again, Mister Jones. How are you feeling?”
“All the better for seeing you,” answeredAlfred with a wink. He still felt a little out of it; flirting withthe gorgeous man seemed like a great idea, especially when he gavehim a surprised and bemused smile.
“Let’s see what we need to do to get you home,Mister Jones.”
“Alfred,” he replied.
“Hm?” said Kirkland, looking a littleconcerned.
“You can call me Alfred.”
“I see.” Kirkland lifted the clipboard andquickly flipped through the pieces of paper. “Well, Alfred, itlooks as if it’s a pretty bad break. I’m going to have to realign thebones before I put a cast on it. Then you can go back to enjoyingyour Christmas day.”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?” Alfredasked, pouting at the doctor.
Dr. Kirkland paused. “What do you mean? I alreadytold you that I’m Doctor Kirkland…” The doctor walked aroundthe bed, reaching up for his stethoscope. “Maybe thosepainkillers are too strong…” he murmured to himself.
“No,” Alfred insisted. “I knowyour doctor name. I wanna know your real name.”
Bemused again, Kirkland said, “And you don’t thinkmy 'doctor’ name is my 'real’ name?”
“Doc,” Alfred whined, pouting as muchas possible.
His doctor laughed. “My name is Arthur. And I’llbe right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“’M'not stupid,” Alfred insisted.
“Says the man who jumped off a roof.”
Alfred grinned. When Arthur turned to walk off, Alfredquickly said, “Doctor, doctor!”
Pausing at the foot of the bed, Arthur turned his headto look over the top of his glasses at him. Alfred could tell that hewas trying to look unimpressed – but failing. His mouth had curvedup at one side so that he was half-smiling. Or smirking. Either way,he looked sexy as hell. “Hm?” he said.
“Do you have an inhaler? 'Cause you take my breathaway.”
Arthur rolled his eyes but his smile grew. “Getsome rest, Alfred. You’ve had a long day.”
Alfred thought about that and he suddenly realised howtired he was. He yawned and quickly nodded. “Sure thing, doc,”he mumbled and closed his eyes.
A little while later, he was woken by hisbrother. “Come on, Al,” he said. “The doctor has toset your bones.”
“I don’t want to wake you while I’m in the middleof this,” Arthur added from his other side.
“Okay,” Alfred said, tiredly. Hazy memoriescaught up with his brain and, with the befuddling drugs having mostlyrun their course, Alfred felt himself blushing. Had he really beenflirting with this sexy doctor? God, he must have sounded so stupid.But… He remembered Arthur’s smile and wondered if it had actuallyworked.
“I’m just going to give you something to numb yourankle. I’ll set the bones and then we’ll get the cast onto you.”Arthur gestured behind him and Alfred blinked, his eyes focussing onFeliciano who stood nearby with two halves of a huge, white boot. Thenurse gave him a cheery wave: Alfred waved back.
“Right,” he said, eyes lowering to look atArthur. The doctor was looking right at him and their eyes met. Theyheld each other’s gaze for a moment before Arthur wrenched his gazedownwards and to what he was doing.
It was amazing to watch Arthur work. His slim, delicatefingers danced across Alfred’s ankle. The needle of the syringedarted in and out with ease: Alfred barely felt the prick. ThenArthur was carefully, gently touching his ankle and foot, easing itaround until it was in the correct position. Never had Alfred sowished he’d never been giving the drugs to stop his pain – hewanted to be able to feel Arthur’s hands on him. Once that had allbeen done, Feliciano helped to put the cast on. Finally, they bothstepped away and Alfred now had a boot which he couldn’t take off. Hegrimaced as both he and Matthew listened to what Arthur had to sayabout his proper care, handing a prescription over to Matthew so hecould pick up more painkillers for him. Feliciano disappeared duringthe speech and returned with some crutches. He showed Alfred how towork them and handed them over.
“We’ll just get you discharged,” Arthur said,“and you can be on your way.”
“Wait! Doc. You can’t just cart me out like that,”Alfred pleaded.
“What-?”
“You needta sign my cast!”
Arthur stared at him in surprise. “I’m not goingto sign your cast,” he told him. “It’s only just set!”
“Al,” said Matthew, a warning in his tone.
“Oh, please! I wanna remember to send yousomething as a thank you,” Alfred added as he quickly racked hisbrain for something to say to encourage him to do it. He wanted to beable to look at it and remember the man; he may not know him verywell but he liked him a lot and didn’t want this last exchange to befinal.
“We don’t have a pen that will wor-” Arthurbegan.
“I do!” exclaimed Feliciano, bringing amarker out of his shirt pocket. Arthur stared at him.
“Why do you have that here? Those are supposed tobe-”
“I thought you could use it for something,Arthur,” said Feliciano, smiling wide.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed, clearly suspicious. “Feli…”
“Can you?” Alfred asked, practicallypleading.
Sighing, Arthur took the pen. “Oh, fine.” Hepopped the lid off the pen and, quick as a flash, bent over Alfred’scast. Alfred could barely contain his excitement, practicallyvibrating as Arthur’s hand curved over his ankle. When he finished,Arthur straightened, caught Alfred’s gaze, glanced away, looked back– and smiled at him. “Have a good Christmas, Alfred,” hesaid. And, after handing Feliciano the pen, he walked off at a briskpace.
Grinning, Feliciano said, “I’ll just get thedischarge papers sorted out.”
Once the nurse was gone, Alfred turned to Matthew, eyeswide. “I can’t see it – what’d he write!”
Matthew stood (he looked rather amused), scurriedaround the bed and stared down at it. He laughed again, eyesscrunching up behind his glasses from the force of it. “I can’tbelieve you!” he cried.
“What? What?!”
“It says, 'I do know CPR’ – and then he’swritten his number!”
Alfred was glad he was in the hospital because he felta little faint from the shock. Thankfully, that didn’t happen: hegrinned and searched his pocket for his phone, demanding Matthew readoff the number.
To Sexy Artie
Im definitly gonna need that when I get 2 c u again!
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